Page 69 of Stealing Sophie
The laird leftGlendoon soon after with no more word to her, Sophie noted. She shared a quiet supper with Mary, Roderick, and Padraig, and gently questioned them about Connor, about his past, still mysterious but coming together in her mind like an intriguing puzzle. The Murrays seemed unwilling to say much about how he had come to stay at Glendoon, though they did not hold back in praising Connor otherwise.
“He’s a good man, a fine laird,” Mary said. “Concerned about the welfare of his tenants. Just a few of us are on Glendoon lands now, but the tenants on Kinnoull lands still view him as their rightful laird, and pay their rents to him regardless.”
“So you have said, but I do not understand. Does Sir Henry look for payment?”
“Aye, so they must pay near double rents, y’see, and so the laird doesna want them to do it, for it is a hardship for them. But they revere him. He does not realize how much.” She glanced at her sons.
“Kinnoull has a strong sense of honor, and would not burden those good folk further,” Roderick added. “Even in this time of injustice, he dares to uphold freedom and supports rebellion. Scotland is a dangerous place for rebels, yet he will act on his beliefs. And he honors his word, once given.”
“I know,” Sophie said, nodding. “He did what my brother asked.”
“Though it was not easy for him—he did not care to frighten a woman, you see,” Padraig said. “He keeps to himself, does Kinnoull, but he will always keep his word.”
The MacPhersons, she learned as they talked, came from a long mixed line of noblemen and rogues. Sophie suspected Connor had the blood of both in his veins. According to the Murrays, though he had the upbringing of a gentleman he did not hesitate to borrow cattle or sheep from pastures if the need arose, or to protect livestock in other pastures from other thieves. He had the fierce Highland devotion to the Stuart cause and took risks to defend it. Like many Scotsmen, he believed James Stuart had the true claim to the Scottish throne, and his son Prince Charles after him. A chubby German prince on the English throne, Roderick explained, should not affect Scotland and its people. Yet he did. And like others, Connor MacPherson had the courage to protest, seeing his family and others suffer.
Padraig walked his mother home after supper, while Roderick promised to stay and watch the castle through the night. He did not know, he said, when Connor might return. Sophie said goodnight and went up the stairs, deeply tired.
Sleeping a little, she awoke to find herself still alone. Connor had not yet returned. She lay in the darkness, sensing the hours creep past, while she dozed and woke again. Was he safe, was he injured? Had he run afoul of the men looking for her?
Curling under the blankets, she felt lonely in the big bed without him there. She missed his strength, his wit, his kindness, even his gruffness and mysterious responses.
Only days ago, she had thought she would be better off without him. Now she was sure she wanted him here. But why—what would come of this, in the end? Foolishness, she told herself. Fancies. He did not truly want the marriage. She pummeled the pillow.
Later, drifting to sleep, she remembered the ghostly music and realized she had not heard that poignant sound for days. She missed that, too. It was part of Glendoon.
