“James, you finally joined the living?”
He wouldn’t take offense for his words weren’t spoken in jest. “For a few minutes, at least. I wanted to hear Sean’s news.”
“Aye, Sean, what is your news?” Grey folded his arms over his chest and sat back.
James became suspicious then for his laird was never casual when news was being imparted. He was definitely up to something.
“I, ah, came to seek aid, Grey. I’ve several sheep missing and … other livestock.” Sean averted his gaze and smoothed his hand over the wood of the table.
“What need you of me?” Grey asked.
“I need someone to come help me find the culprits. They’ve taken a decent number and I’ve no one to search …” Sean snatched his cup from the table and sipped it slowly.
James knew he was lying through his teeth. For one thing, Sean’s wife, Frances recently birthed a bairn and Sean would never leave her so soon. Secondly, if his livestock was truly missing, he had a good amount of clan followers to aid him. If he couldn’t spare anyone, he’d send a missive requesting aid, and not come himself.
Their scheme wasn’t lost on him. James hid the grin that twitched at his lips. He waited for Grey’s retort, wondering how his laird would get out of sending someone.
“I, ah, can’t send anyone now, Sean. Donal wants me to join him when Alexander returns, for he went to Edinburgh. He said he wanted a meeting called of the council and it’s set in a fortnight. There’s not enough time to get to your land and back before I must take to the meeting.”
James raised a brow at that because he knew the king had only just been at Donal’s keep and would’ve met with the council when he was there. With patience, James continued to keep silent, knowing his name would be brought into the conversation.
“None of my men have the tracking skills of the Gunns.” Sean refilled his cup and appeared anxious.
“What about James?”
And there it was. Both he and Sean shot a glance to their laird.
“Do you deem I’m that gullible?”
Grey laughed aloud. “Cosh, he’s on to us.”
“Well, what say you? Will you come?” Sean set his cup down and didn’t have a humorous gaze on his face as his laird had.
“What else have I to do?” James said, seriously.
Grey stood, pushing his chair out a few feet from the table. “Then it’s settled. You’ll go with Sean.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Morning fog blanketed the fields adjacent to the Hume keep. James stopped and looked at the old castle’s walls and sighed. He hadn’t expected to be on Hume land again, at least for some time. He knew he caused a lax pace on the journey and that his friend was eager to return. James hadn’t been on a horse in some time as it was. Never would he admit how difficult the trek was for him. Nor would he ask Sean to take the frequent rests he needed. He was grateful Sean hadn’t mentioned or jested with him about the delay.
The horse he rode wasn’t familiar with him, but by the time he reached Sean’s keep, the horse settled into a smoother gait. He missed Oran, because his horse had been trained well and he didn’t need such a heavy hand.
It seemed forever since they’d left on their errand for the king to Wales. Much had happened since then. James shook the thought away for he didn’t want to think of her.
“All’s well, Angus?”
The stable lad, Angus, came running toward them. “Aye, all’s well. Laird, I’ll see to your horses. Benson awaits ye in the hall.”
James dismounted his horse and gave the reins over to the overzealous lad. Angus was proud of his position even though many would not be. He boasted that even if he had to shovel manure, he was proud to serve his laird. The lad was dedicated, he’d give him that.
James followed Sean to the hall, and wondered why Benson, the commander-in-arms waited inside. Usually he awaited Sean by the gate, and foretold his news while Sean made his way through the courtyard.
“What’s going on? Trouble?” James looked at the high steps of Sean’s keep and grimaced. He used the wall and the stick his father gave him to take the stairs and made quick work of his ascent.
“I hope not.”
James heard nary a sound when he entered the massive hall. They stopped upon seeing Benson. He stood near the table, rocking a bundle of coverings in his arms.
James bellowed in laughter at the sight of the burly guardsman holding the wee bairn and the babe let out a fierce wail.
“Now see what ye done?” Benson marched to him and thrust the babe in his arms.
James had no choice but to accept the screeching bundle. He awkwardly held the babe and scowled at Benson for putting him in such a position. It had been a while since he held such a small bairn.
“I just got ‘em to sleep, for he won’t rest for milady. I was giving her a break from his fussing.” Benson kept his scowl affixed on his face and muttered curses.
The bairn continued to wail and Benson pulled Sean near the door where it was quieter, to give his report.
James held the bairn up and smiled for he looked akin to his father with his brown eyes and dark wisps of hair.
“Ah, lad, you’re angry at the world? Aye, that makes two of us. We’re in good company, you and me.”
The babe stared at him and seemed to settle. James needed to get off his feet, so he sat at the table and set the babe against his chest. He felt the babe relax and surmised he was settling back to sleep.
Benson finished his report and grinned at him. “You have the touch, James. I shall see you later, Laird.” He hastened from the hall.
Sean snatched two cups and a flagon of ale on his way to the table. “It appears my lad likes to be around men. He’s already showing signs of being a great warrior. Frances has had a hard time settling him down.”
James grinned. “So I heard. He has a good cry. What did ye name him? Grey never told me.”
“James.” Sean filled a cup with ale and set it in front of him. “I expect you to be his champion and look after him his whole life.”
He didn’t know why he got emotional, but his friend’s words greatly affected him. “I am honored. Of course I will. Here, take the wee James.”
Sean shook his head. “Nay, he’s content. Let him be for now. Hold on to him until he wakes.”
“Did ye plant a good sapling for him?” James kept his hand under the bairn’s bottom so he wouldn’t slide down his chest. The babe curled into a ball and seemed to be comfortable.
“Aye, of course. I want my lad to be strong.”
James liked their tradition of planning a tree for the bairns when they were born. If a tree was weak and the leaves sparse and falling, so would the bairn be weak. If the tree were resilient and bountiful with leaves, so the child would thrive. Although he wasn’t much a believer in superstitions, he didn’t like to test the fates.
At that moment, Frances entered the hall and approached. Her wide smile faltered the nearer she got to him.
“Oh, James …” She held his face with her hands, and he closed his eyes with the gentleness of her caress. “You’re unwell. I can see it in your eyes. I shall call Muriel.”
He’d gazed at her and saw that she looked healthy and well since giving birth. “Nay, I’m well. Truly, milady. I’ve no need of a healer.”
“You don’t look well. We shall feed you then and I will have cook make a feast.”
James swore whenever someone wanted to help, they resorted to feeding him. But that wasn’t what he needed or wanted. He needed her. “There’s no need, milady. I’m not hungry.”
“Nonsense.” She kept her voice low and touched her son’s head with a gentle stroke. “I’ve never seen him so content.” She took a seat next to him.
“Where was the cattle taken from?” James asked, and tried to hide the grin that came upon him. For he knew there was no missing cattle, and he wanted to catch Sean in the web of his deceit, even though he and Grey practically admitted their trickery.