Page 31 of Laird of Secrets
“The roof leaks,” MacGregor said.
“We will fetch buckets if it rains,” she said.
“The walls are crumbling. Do not lean against the back wall during a heavy rainstorm, I warn you.”
“I never lean, nor would I allow my students to do so.”
“There may be mice underfoot.”
“I will get a cat,” she said.
“Then I will find one for you,” he answered, and sighed. “I believe you will fend for yourself in Glen Kinloch, despite all.”
“I will.” She smiled. He returned it, suddenly, a heartwarming grin. For a moment she felt as if she saw only him, and he saw only her. Quickly she looked away, blushing. “I must hurry. The students are waiting.”
“Ah, there is Mrs. Beaton,” the reverend said. “I must speak to her about her daughter’s wedding service. Please excuse me.” He smiled at Fiona. “Since the Laird owns the school, he should introduce you.”
“Thank you, Reverend.” She smiled as he left. “Now that I know the way here, tomorrow I will arrive earlier. I did not know they would all be here before me.”
“You would have to rise very early to be here first,” Kinloch said, “since most of your students will be up before dawn to do the milking and chores before they head to school. Come meet them.”
He touched her elbow again, and again she felt that keen inner tug. She sensed the strength and calm in the man, too, though he was a smuggler and a scoundrel. She set her chin high, determined to let nothing—and no man—distract her from her work here, and walked toward the group waiting for her.
Chapter 7
Dougal nodded, satisfied and oddly proud as he watched Fiona MacCarran greet each person in the schoolyard. She repeated their names as he introduced her and spoke to them in deft, good Gaelic, winning over even those suspicious of outsiders and Lowlanders. Everyone seemed more at ease after speaking with her.
“This is Pol MacDonald,” Dougal continued as they made their way through the group, “and my young cousin Jamie MacGregor. And here is another MacGregor—Andrew, Ranald’s son.” He indicated the lads, tall and small, standing together. Knowing Miss MacCarran would recognize Andrew from their first encounter, he prayed she would not let on.
She smiled as if she had never seen Andrew before, while the boy blushed furiously. Jamie, just seven, his thatch of red-gold hair bright as a setting sun, straightened his narrow shoulders and shook his teacher’s hand. And Pol MacDonald, with a trace of new blond whiskers along his jaw, was so nervous that his voice cracked as he spoke to the new teacher.
Dougal was pleased to see how Miss MacCarran took time for each person, pausing to chat with Pol’s father, a farmer with a rough manner and a kind nature; and Ranald’s sturdy wife, Effie; then Fergus’s daughter Muriel, her hair as fiery as her son Jamie’s. Shy Helen MacDonald, Pol’s cousin, welcomed the new dominie quietly, pushing her twelve-year-old daughter, Annabel, forward, who was as timid as her mother, both of them delicate, blonde, and fairy-like in appearance.
Then Pol’s sister Mairi MacDonald and her friend Lilias Beaton came forward smiling. Both girls were among the older students in the class, and Dougal knew that Lilias was engaged to a young man in the next glen. Hugh MacIan had been discussing the upcoming wedding with the girl and her mother.
As they made their rounds through the small crowd clustered in front of the schoolhouse, Miss MacCarran glanced up at Dougal. “So boys and girls are together in this school? Genders are often separated in other glen schools, with classes on alternating days or scheduled for mornings and afternoons.”
“We have so few students just now that Reverend MacIan thought it best to combine them in one class. It is not easy for them to find time for lessons, as they have chores at home. Many are kin, and used to being together.” Seeing Lucy standing nearby with Jamie, Dougal beckoned her to come forward.
“And who is this?” Miss MacCarran smiled down at her.
“My niece, Lucy MacGregor. Lucy, this is your new teacher.”
Lucy looked up at Miss MacCarran very sweetly, brown eyes sparkling, dark hair gleaming after a good brushing. He was pleased, and a bit relieved, to see that she had decided to nicely comply.
“Good morning, Miss MacCarran. Welcome to Glen Kinloch,” Lucy said in English.
“Thank you, Lucy. Your English is very good.”
“Aye, it is. So I do not need to go to school. I can speak Gaelic and English, and I can read a little. Uncle Dougal taught me.”
“She is a quick study,” Dougal explained, as Fiona MacCarran looked at him in surprise. “Away with you, lass—go inside with the others. A little reading is a fine thing, but you still need schooling.” Lucy scowled at her uncle and then ran toward the schoolhouse.
“I expected more students this morning,” Miss MacCarran said, looking about.
“I suspect some families are waiting to see what the others say. They will want to be sure that the lessons will be worth the time the children are away from their chores. I suppose they also wonder if you will stay. Previous dominies have not remained here for long.”
“I will stay. I gave my word.”
