“Ye say this here lass is to be the land steward, and ye are returning to Argyll?” Bernard took a large swallow of ale, wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, and burped.
“Aye. I have my own clan to run. We have been fortunate to keep most of our land and our clansmen. ’Twas not easy. My da and his da before him worked hard.”
“So ye dinnae lose yer land after Culloden? I thought the MacNeils were Jacobites.”
“Aye, in that we were, but we dinnae come under the notice of the English once the rebellion was crushed.” Seeing the look on the man’s face, Evan hurried on, “We were all for independence, but my grandda made the wise choice to work with the Sassanach. ’Twas not a popular position, in truth, but once it was over, it hadn’t seemed too smart to make things worse. We lost a lot of men in Culloden, and my grandda was determined to keep the clan together as best he could.”
“Aye, old MacDuff—the last MacDuff’s grandda—did much the same. Lost a lot of men, and then a bulk of land, but managed to hang on. ’Twas the Sassenach’s idea to crush the Scottish, mostly the Highlanders, but a few managed to endure.” Bernard held his mug up. “Here’s to the survivors.”
Both men drank the rest of their ale while Katie and Maureen watched them. Katie seemed amused at their conversation, but Maureen studied her da carefully, almost as if wishing the visit to be over and the two of them on their way.
Bernard slammed his mug down. “Now I have a problem for ye to deal with.”
Young Maureen groaned. “Nay, Da. Dinnae bring it up now.”
“I will be bringing it up, lass. I told ye if ye continued with yer behavior, I would have the laird deal with ye.”
Evan didn’t care for the sound of that statement. As laird in his own clan, he had the responsibility to settle many matters. Issues between parent and child were oftentimes the hardest. He glanced over at Katie, who shrugged. No doubt she had handled such matters herself after her da had passed on.
He sighed and finished his drink. “What is it, MacDuff?” Evan leaned back in his chair.
“The lass here has been sneaking out, seeing Fenton’s boy, Kevin. I told the lad to stay away from her, but I caught them and gave the lad a thrashing.”
“A thrashing indeed, my laird. He gave Kevin a broken nose, and I think his arm is broken too.” Maureen’s wide hazel eyes were rimmed with tears. Katie immediately moved to the lass and put her arm around her shoulders.
Evan eyed MacDuff. “What are yer objections to the lad?”
“Fenton’s a drinker. Beats his wife. Overworks his bairns. A mean son of a bitch—”
“Da!” Maureen rose, her face red.
“Well, he is. And there’s nothing else to be said about it.”
Katie cleared her throat and stole a glance at Evan. He was more than happy to have her take this issue. He never did like family petitions for help. “Yes, Mistress Stirling?”
“May I speak, my laird?”
He dipped his head. “Indeed.” Let her make an enemy of either the da or the lass. Whatever he said, someone would be unhappy.
“How old are ye, Maureen?”
“I’ve seen sixteen summers.”
Katie nodded. “Aye. Old enough to know yer mind, that’s for sure.” She turned to MacDuff. “Is yer only objection about the lad his da?”
MacDuff crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Aye. Like breeds like. I’ll not have my daughter treated the way poor Mrs. MacDuff is.”
Evan was quite impressed with the man’s attitude. Too many men didn’t care what sort of man their lasses married, as long as they were out of his house and eating someone else’s food. He opened his mouth to say something like that, and Katie waved at him to be quiet.
Verra daring the lass was. She believed it was permissible to wave her laird away like some pestering insect? Before he could open his mouth, she continued, “I agree that oftentimes a mon will behave toward his family like the mon who raised him. But that is not always true.”
The stubborn man didn’t answer her but kept glaring in her direction. Hopefully, Evan would not have to save the lass from a thrashing.
“Mr. MacDuff, here is what I propose. Spend some time with the lad. Watch how he treats his horse, how he handles problems that vex him. Most of all, see how he treats Maureen. Since they’ve been hiding from ye, ye have no way of knowing what his feelings truly are. Ye can certainly judge a mon by how he acts, aye?”
Grudgingly, Bernard nodded. “Aye. ’Tis true. I
’ve been so worried that she would run off with the lad that I’ve only been watching her.”