Page 45 of Laird of Secrets
“Of course. Is there a problem with the roof?”
“Och aye,” Ranald said. “Are you done with the school for the day?”
“Not yet. We will work for an hour or so after luncheon. Some of them have chores at home, so I give them afternoons free for those tasks.”
“And some only have tasks when the laird asks them to help him,” Fergus said, smiling politely, just as if he had not seen her only days ago facing smugglers and officers in the dark of night.
“Ah,” she said. “So the older lads help the laird—at night, in the hills?”
“Hills?” Ranald looked very innocent. Then she saw a twinkle in his eyes. “We sometimes bring casks and supplies around to others in need.”
“Of course. Though if the older lads will be occupied in the evenings, I would like to know about it.”
“Why?” Fergus asked, glancing at Ranald.
Oh, dear, she thought. They might worry that she would take that information to her brother. “Only so that I can understand why they are especially weary some mornings, or unable to finish their homework. That is all.”
“I see.” Ranald nodded. “My son Andrew, he is a good scholar?”
“Very bright and a fast learner,” she replied.
“And Jamie? He is my grandson,” Fergus said proudly. “A good lad.”
“He is a very smart lad, and quite willing to help others.”
“Andrew has his mother’s wit, not mine,” Ranald said. “I do not read English.”
“You speak it very well. And you are a clever man. Your son is like you.”
“That is true,” Ranald said, puffing proudly.
“Miss, you are a good teacher, I am thinking,” Fergus said. “What of Lucy? We are all her uncles, you know. And the laird will also want to know how she does.”
“She is extremely bright, though a bit spirited,” she said tactfully, while they chuckled. “I—I have not seen Kinloch for a while.”
“He has been busy with matters in the glen,” Fergus said.
“I am sure of it,” she answered, unable to keep the spice out of her tone.
Fergus huffed. “And wee Lucy, is she tormenting poor Jamie?”
“Sometimes, but I suspect it is a form of affection.”
“Huh. She does not want to be in school, that one. Jamie likes the lessons, though,” Ranald said.
“Sooner or later, they will all learn what they need to learn.”
“Miss MacCarran is a good dominie,” Fergus told Ranald. “Here, we must look at the roof.”
Fiona glanced up. “I noticed damp on the ceiling. I hope it is not a concern.”
“We will see,” Ranald said. “We have not always had a teacher here at the glen school, you know. Sometimes a traveling dominie came to the glen and stayed a season, going house to house so the bairns could learn letters and math at home. We learned that way, my brothers and I.”
Fergus shrugged. “We did not learn much. And John—he was our youngest brother, Miss, the father of the young laird—was more interested in learning than we three. He studied on his own, had a great interest in books and learning, wanting education for his tenants and his son, too. He wanted Dougal to go to university.”
“He attended for a bit,” Ranald said. “The needs of the glen brought him back.”
Fiona nodded, realizing why Kinloch seemed educated while claiming he was not. “A traveling dominie can be a good solution sometimes. If other children want to come to the Glen Kinloch school but are too far away, I will speak to Reverend MacIan about hiring a traveling dominie to tutor them at home.”
