Page 89 of Highland Queen

I laughed. “And to me.”

Macbeth smiled slightly. He looked at his worktable where I had neatly stacked all the correspondence. I’d had shelves moved into the chamber where I kept ledgers and essential missives. Ruling Scotland, it turned out, was not much different from ruling Moray. Scale was the only factor. After the initial shock at the confused state of things, I was beginning to make progress.

Macbeth exhaled a heavy sigh. “You have been doing everything.”

“Someone has to.”

“And things are…”

“Settling down. You’ll be delighted to know that cousin Bethoc is here. If you wanted any greater motivation to walk to Rome, I can’t think of another.”

To my surprise, he chuckled. “I’ll consider it. And Crinian?”

“He’s revisiting his dedication to his vocation. He is Abbott of Dunkeld once more. The mines and treasury are secure. Now that I’ve choked off the money we’ve been bleeding south, the southern lords are suddenly very eager to ally with us.”

“Thank you, Gruoch. These days have been very strange for me.”

I bit the inside of my cheek but said nothing. How many strange days had Macbeth caused me?

When I looked up, I realized Macbeth was studying me carefully. “Are your hands cold?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He eyed the papers on the table once more. “What can I do?”

I looked across the desk, selecting the messages I’d received from Thorfinn. I handed them to Macbeth. “Get well.”

He took the parchments from my hands. “Gruoch, I don’t deserve—”

“No, you don’t. So do us all a favor and come back to yourself. For now, I have to send some messages,” I said then strode out of the room.

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