The Prodigal Laird by Vanda Vadas

Author:Vanda Vadas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Escape Publishing

Chapter 11

Later, when it was midafternoon, Annabel followed Thomas and his mother into their turf-roofed stone house. Roderick stood to one side of the small open hearth. Between the three of them, and young Thomas, they’d completed a list of long-neglected chores and repairs in and around the home.

Elspeth, a comely woman with dark, earth-coloured hair, went immediately to her husband. She bent her petite frame over his and kissed him on the forehead.

Broc was by no means ready to leave his bed, where he lay bandaged and recovering from the beating he’d suffered at the hands of the Redcoat deserters. He fidgeted and winced in pain from the slightest movement.

‘Be still, my love,’ said Elspeth. ‘Ribs will mend and bruises will soon fade. In time yer strength will return.’

‘The sooner the better,’ he grumbled. ‘I’m done with lying here like a damned invalid.’ He gestured to Annabel and Roderick with the flicker of a sidelong glance. ‘’Tis nae right that the laird do backbreaking work on his tenant’s farm. Nor should his new bride have to scrub our clothes or sweep our floors!’

He’d spoken in an agitated whisper but the one-roomed cottage made it impossible not to hear his every word.

Annabel glanced at Roderick. News of their proxy marriage had spread before he’d known anything about it. She expected he’d set the cottars straight, denouncing any truth to the legality of their marital union; that he intended to find someone else to take his place as Laird of Clan MacLeod.

To her surprise, he said, ‘Don’t upset yourself, Broc. ’Tis my duty and my pleasure to have assisted a fellow clansman. I’ll be doing likewise for other tenants. Besides, the physical work did me the world of good.’ He held up his palms. ‘My life in London has softened these hands and reduced my flesh to flab.’

Annabel openly stared at Roderick. He’d revealed nothing of his plans to return to England, or that she meant no more to him than his guest at Finvreck. She could only assume he remained sensitive to Broc and Elspeth’s recent ordeal. It would be no boost to their confidence in knowing the laird preferred his life and political career in London. Why add to their burden of worrying who would protect them from the Sassenach Redcoats?

Broc placed a hand over his heart. ‘I cannae thank ye both enough for caring for our wee Thomas and for what ye’ve done for us here today.’ To Annabel, he said, ‘Yer father and his men were our saving grace. I owe him a debt. If there’s anything I can do to repay such kindness, then all he need do is ask. Will ye tell him that for me?’

Annabel didn’t know when she’d next see her father, but if agreeing to Broc’s request brought him peace of mind, then she’d gladly oblige his request. ‘I will.’

‘Had yer father nae intervened when the Redcoats—’

‘Husband,’ interrupted Elspeth. She shook her head, placed a finger over her lips and nodded towards their son.

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