Page 3 of A Two-Faced Laird
“Where is Father?” Edina asked, disappointed.
Her mother rolled her eyes. “At one of those interminable meetings with the Laird and his tenants,” she answered. “They will no doubt be there for hours yet!”
Edina laughed. “I remember.”
She cast her mind back to the days her father and Laird Findlay used to come out of the Great Hall, where the gatherings of the tenants were held, irritable and exhausted. She hoped it would not be like that today.
“But he is as well as ever,” Bettina told her. “Of course, he will be all the better for seeing his wee girl again, Edina.”
She folded her daughter into her embrace once more, but as soon as she let her go, Edina realised that her mother had begun to show one more facet of her love; one that she was not so keen on.
“Now, come on, tidy yourself up a bit.”
Her mother, reverting to her usual form, was brushing down the front of Edina’s practical travelling dress as she spoke. She had been on the road for hours, and it was creased into a thousand wrinkles, but Edina was tired and irritable, and batted her hand away peevishly.
“They know I have been travelling all day, Mother,” she muttered. “I am sure they will make a few allowances.”
Bettina McCarthy was about to make a spirited retort, but at that moment Lady Eleanor Findlay came out to meet them, smiling widely.
“It is so good to see you, Edina,” she cried, as she enveloped her in yet another great hug. “Did you have a good journey?”
“Thank you, Milady,” Edina replied, with a smile and a deferential curtsey. “It was as good as coach journeys usually are, I suppose!”
Her eyes were twinkling as she spoke, and Lady Findlay gave her a pat on the shoulder. “I know how you feel. Sometimes I wish we could fly from one place to the next! But you will be much better after a glass of wine and a warm bath. My husband has laid in a selection of excellent wine—well, so he tells me. Between you and me, lass, it is either red or white. That’s the only way I can tell the difference.”
Edina nodded in agreement, smiling. “Thank you for your concern. Actually, Milady,” she murmured confidentially, “I have spent quite a lot of time studying all aspects of wine cultivation, and I am still none the wiser!”
“Neither am I,” Lady Findlay confessed, laughing. “We could always drink ale, although I am told there is a new drink making its way to Scotland. It is called tea.”
“Oh, I have heard about that,” Edina’s mother said eagerly.
Since her mother and Lady Findlay seemed more interested in the riveting subject of dried leaves in hot water, Edina let her attention wander. She noticed that there were plenty of guards, although very few of them were doing any actual guarding. It seemed that most of their time was spent chatting with each other and play-fighting to impress the maidservants, who did the bulk of the work in running the castle.
One of the guards, a tall, red-headed young man, suddenly reminded her that she had not seen Lewis or Aidan. She began to actively look around for them, sure that one or both of them would be around somewhere. Neither was anywhere to be seen, however.
“Where is Lewis?” she asked Lady Findlay.
For a moment the woman looked disconcerted, then she said, “Lewis is at the meeting of the tenants with the Laird. I cannot keep track of him these days. If he is not supervising something, he is hunting, or visiting tenants, or has his nose buried in the account books. He cannot bear to be idle.”
“Oh, of course.”
Edina was disappointed, since she had expected to see him as soon as she entered the castle. Her longing to be reunited with him was too intense to ignore. Her feelings for Lewis had not changed after all these years they were apart. He was still her knight on a white horse.
However, he was the Laird’s son, and heir to the estate, so he was expected to shoulder a great deal of the responsibility of running it, and that was as it ought to be, she supposed. Still, Edina could not help feeling a little downhearted before consoling herself with the fact that she would see him at dinner, or so she hoped.
“And Aidan? Where is he?”
“Aidan has become a sailor,” her mother told her. “He left three years ago, and we rarely see him these days.”
Bettina gave Edina a warning look. Evidently, it was a touchy subject, and Lady Eleanor looked so sad that Edina was eager to talk about something else.
“That is a pity because I was hoping to meet him after all this time,” she said lightly, then sighed. “I am happy to be back where I belong. All I need now is a comfortable seat by the fire and a glass of something to warm my insides. Then, I will be completely content!”
Lady Eleanor put her arm around Edina’s shoulders. “I have ordered your favourite dishes to be prepared, and your old bedroom is ready, although it is now decorated to suit the tastes of a young lady. I hope you will like it. And although your old pony, Pegasus, has long since passed away, the Laird has chosen a few other lovely horses which he thinks will suit you. You only have to take your pick. I must say, it is wonderful to have you back, my dear.”
The Laird and Lady Findlay were very fond of Edina, since she was the only girl growing up in the castle at the time their two sons did. They had always treated her like a daughter, gifting her dresses and dolls. Her beauty and intelligence delighted them, and when she left for Inverness they all felt like the sun had set in the castle.
The ladies moved into a small parlour, one which Edina remembered well, since she had often been reprimanded forhiding behind and clambering over the furniture, some of which was quite valuable. She smiled as she looked at a little porcelain angel that was standing next to a candelabra on a table, and Lady Findley followed the direction of her gaze, laughing.
