Devils Own (Clan MacAlpin 2)

Anya pulled back, taking in Elspeth’s face. “And you. ”

She returned Anya’s smile, accepting the lie for what it was. She knew lovely was a word that would never be used to describe her. But she’d long ago told herself that though she might be plain, she wasn’t decidedly ugly, and that was something indeed.

Elspeth held out her arm. “I heard you were back. I thought perhaps you wanted to go on one of our sojourns. ”

As girls, they’d whiled away countless hours on their walks, during which Elspeth would spin tales about ships in the distance, or imagine secret tragedies suffered by passersby. Sometimes she’d pretend they were on a dangerous trek across faraway lands.

“It’s been some time since our last expedition,” Anya said, linking elbows. “Where shall we venture today?”

They fell into step easily. Despite the playfulness of Anya’s words, Elspeth heard the strain in her voice.

“Mmm. ” Elspeth tapped a finger on her chin, eager to do what she could to see a true smile on her friend’s face. “Exotic Afrique? Perhaps a journey to ancient Carthage? Mayhap,” she added in a wicked whisper, “we’ll espy a Roman soldier on the road. ”

The errant image of Aidan flashed in her mind. Might they run into him on their walk? And how might he look in Roman helmet and breastplate? With that height and resonant voice, his bearing was decidedly gladiatorial.

There was a moment of quiet, in which their grins faded to contented smiles.

Anya patted her arm. “How I’ve longed to see you. ” There was a distinct note of melancholy in her voice.

“But you’ve been the one journeying, in truth. Living all the way in Argyll?” Elspeth squeezed her arm in excitement. “The trip alone must’ve been a grand adventure. ”

Anya shrugged. “Would that life turned out as we’d imagined as girls. ”

“What’s happened to make you feel so decrepit?” Elspeth cocked her head, as though if she looked hard enough, she could read Anya’s story on her face. “I see that you’re tired. I can guess that you’re sad. But the rest …” She shook her head thoughtfully. “The rest is a mystery. ” Her eyes grew playfully sharp. “Perhaps I’d know if you’d written me more faithfully. Your last letter was over a year ago. Uncommunicativeness is an unforgivable defect in any best friend. ”

“Uncommuni …” Anya patted her arm. “Truly, Elspeth. Where do you come up with these words?”

Elspeth steered them onto a path leading down to the shoreline. It was a clear day, and she hoped breathing the salt air might be invigorating for her friend. She might even spare a moment to contemplate swashbuckling, seafaring sorts of men. “You shan’t change the topic,” she said, as much to Anya as to herself. “And don’t tell me it’s because young Duncan—who, by the way, I’m desperate to meet—took too much of your time. Tell me truly how you are. ”

Anya sighed. “You had the right of it. I am tired. And relieved to be home. My husband was … a difficult patient. ”

“It must be a hardship, though. ” Elspeth stopped in her tracks, staring back up at the ruins of Dunnottar Castle, looming high on the mammoth seaside cliff top known as Dunnottar Rock. It’d been ravaged during the Civil Wars and then abandoned. The MacAlpin siblings had claimed it as their own, and thanks to three—now four—strapping sons, the townsfolk hadn’t the heart to challenge them. “You always loved finery, Anya. But now, to squat with your family in such a place, not knowing from day to day if someone might come and claim the castle from under you?” She sighed. “While your husband’s Stewart estates must’ve been grand indeed. It was always your dream to be a lady of such fortunes. ”

“Donald was merely a very distant cousin. But yes, our home was grand. Though, I confess, I find myself preferring it here. ” Anya paused, studying the jagged coastline. Veins of rich, green grass fanned down the cliffs toward the beach, a reminder of the tenacious farmland that clung to the eastern coast, refusing to be denied. Something in her eyes cleared. “Don’t you know, dear Elspeth, oak wainscoting and one’s own privy don’t make a home. And besides, Dunnottar has…”

“A peculiar charm?”

Brightening, Anya pulled them back into a walk. “Aye. Just that. ” Loosening her arisaid, she led them to a large flat rock, where she spread the wool out like a blanket. “Come bide a wee. All I’ve done since arriving home is answer questions about my son, and my husband, and my husband’s infirmities, and his military career, and his land holdings. ” She sat, growing stoic. “And my prospects. ” Anya set her shoulders, as though those prospects were something to be borne physically. “I’d hear instead how my bosom friend is faring. So tell me, Elspeth. How fare you?”

“I’m well. ” She shrugged, not much interested in talking about her own exceptionally mundane life. To do so would only be an exercise in fabricating some interesting tale where there was none to be found. It was enough of a strain to maintain a pleasant countenance among acquaintances; she had no wish to create such a charade around her oldest friend.

Anya pursed her lips. “That’s all you’ve to tell me? You’re well? We’ve known each other since we were girls hoisting our skirts and climbing to steal apples. I know when you’re not telling me something. Begin with your father. How is he?”

Elspeth settled onto the rock with a sigh. “I fear Da’s head is still in the clouds. ”

Anya’s eyes narrowed. “You’re holding something back, I think. Tell me you’re no longer living your life completely in service to him. ”

The words cut to her heart, though she feared the truth of them. “My life’s not so dire as all that. ” She forced a smile. “Father began a woolen business. ”

Anya sat next to her. “Well that’s a good thing. ”

“Not when he had to sell off everything in order to do it. ”

“Everything?”

Elspeth knew her friend really meant, Even your dowry? “Everything. Cattle, linens. All of it. For twenty head of sheep. ”

“I hope you fancy mutton. ”