“Are all Scots so gallant?” Rosanna said.
Ian laughed. “’Tis our way,” he said.
“Where is Skye?” Rosanna asked. “I must meet my cousin’s fiancée.”
“She is there waiting on yon table,” Duff said, pointing her out.
“Oh, my,” Rosanna said. “What a beautiful young woman she is. Duff, I can see why you are so smitten with her.”
“As can I,” Andrew said. “What I can’t see is why she should be smitten with you.”
Andrew’s jibe drew a laugh as Ian put mugs of ale on the bar in front of each of them.
Andrew reached into his pocket for money, but Ian held up his hand. “This is on the house,” he said. “Surely I can furnish a beer to m’ own cousins now, can’t I?”
“Cousins?” Andrew said. He looked at Duff. “Did I not go far enough in my genealogy research?”
“We aren’t cousins yet,” Ian said. “But when my Skye marries Duff, ’tis cousins-in-law we shall be.”
Andrew chuckled. “I suppose that is true, isn’t it?”
Skye returned to the bar then and was introduced to Andrew and Rosanna.
“’Tis most pleased I am to meet such famous theater people,” Skye said with a little curtsey as she greeted the pair.
“It is true that we strut and fret our brief hour upon the stage,” Andrew said. “But thus far, fame has eluded us.”
“He is being modest, Skye,” Duff said. “You should have seen the high esteem in which they were held by the people of Glasgow when I visited there to see their show.”
“The people of Glasgow were uncommonly kind,” Rosanna said. “Certainly they treated us with more deference than we deserve.”
“I think not,” Skye said. “I read of you in our newspaper. I have the article here.” Skye reached under the bar, then pulled out a newspaper that was carefully folded to display the article that held her interest.
She began to read:
Campbell’s Musical Saloon has occasioned many theatricals and musicales of note, but rarely have the boards been so crowned as to be trod by that magnificent pair of thespians, Andrew and Rosanna MacCallister. Brother and sister they, the MacCallisters, have long been the object of attention and admiration in New York. Should one be fortunate enough to attend a performance in which these two appear, they will indeed regard the evening of entertainment as time well spent.
She put the paper down. “If the paper writes that of you, then you are truly famous.”
“You read very well, young lady,” Andrew said. “You would make a fine thespian yourself.”
Skye blushed at the flattery.
At that moment Sheriff Angus Somerled came into the tavern and much of the laughter and conversation grew quiet as he stood just inside the door, perusing the place with dark and brooding eyes.
“Skye, lass, see if we can be of service to the sheriff,” Ian said quietly.
Skye approached the sheriff, then curtseyed. “Sheriff, may we serve you?” she asked.
Sheriff Somerled looked over at Duff, then pointed at him.
“Is it true that, last week, you fought with my sons for no reason?” he asked.
“That is not true,” Duff replied.
“How can you say it is not true when with my own eyes I saw the bruises you inflicted upon them?”
“I am not saying that I didn’t fight with them,” Duff said. “What I dispute is that I fought with them for no reason. I fought with them because they attacked me.”
“There are three of them and but one of you, yet they are the injured ones. Would you be tellin’ me, Duff MacCallister, that they attacked you first, and yet you bested the three of them? Because that I am not believing.”
“You should believe it, Sheriff, for Duff is speaking only the truth,” Ian said. “All who were here that night will bear witness to the fact that your sons attacked MacCallister.”
“Aye, Sheriff, ’tis true enough,” one of the other patrons said. “Your sons started the fight.”
The sheriff said nothing in direct reply, but a blood vessel in his temple began to throb, a visual display of his anger. He looked at Andrew and Rosanna.
“Are you the theater people I have heard about?” he asked.
“I don’t know if, or what you might have heard of us. But it is true that we are theater people,” Rosanna replied.
“Why dishonor yourselves by standing with one who is known to be a brigand?” Angus Somerled asked.
“Duff MacCallister is my cousin,” Andrew replied. “Were he at the gates of hell, I would stand by him.”
“You make claim that he is your cousin?”
“Aye, of the self-same blood as Falcon MacCallister, he who defeated your ancestor at Glen Fruin,” Andrew said, perfectly adopting the Scottish brogue.
“Ochh. It is worthless you are, the lot of ye,” Sheriff Somerled said as, spinning on his heel, he left the tavern.
“And it is good riddance to ye, Angus Somerled!” Ian McGregor called out after the sheriff left. It wasn’t loud enough for the sheriff to hear, but it was loud enough for all in the pub to hear, and they laughed out loud.
Two days later, Duff came to Glasgow to tell his cousins good-bye.
“We have had a wonderful visit,” Rosanna said. “Especially so since we met you and were able to reconnect our family after all these years. And how wonderful it was to meet Skye. She is such a delightful young lady. I am sure the two of you will be very happy.”
“Thank you, I am sure we will be as well. And I enjoyed meeting both of you,” Duff said. “It was an interesting experience, finding out what happened to those of my family who went to America.”
“You should come to America as well,” Andrew said. “Yes, come to America after you have married, and bring your bride with you.”
“Perhaps I will,” Duff said. “I would like to see America, and I would like Skye to see it with me.”
“But if you come, you should come to live, not just to visit,” Andrew said. “You would love it in America, and Americans would welcome you. We are that kind of people.”
“I have land here,” Duff said. “If I were to come to America, how would I live? I have no land there.”
“Land is easily acquired,” Andrew said. “We have so much land in America that we give it away. It is called homesteading. All you have to do is move onto a piece of unoccupied property, work it, and file a claim. Then it becomes yours.”
“Aye, that is an interesting proposition, but Skye still has her family here. I think it might be difficult to persuade her to undertake such an adventure.”
“Perhaps not as difficult as you may think,” Rosanna said. “Skye strikes me as a young woman with an adventurous spirit. She may want to come. But, whether you come to visit or to live, you must spend some time with us.”
Chapter Four
White Horse Pub
A large banner stretched across the top of the mirror behind the bar. The banner was festooned with flowers and bore the words:
CONGRATULATIONS TO
CAPTAIN DUFF TAVISH MACCALLISTER
AND SKYE MCGREGOR
Ever since he arrived at the pub earlier this evening, customers had been coming up to him, congratulating him on the fact that tomorrow he and Skye were to be married.
“’Tis the surprise to me that after twenty days of posting banns, not one person came up with a reason why a scallywag such as yourself is nae fit to marry with the lovely and sainted Skye McGregor,” one of the customers said.
“Here, here,” another called and all laughed.
“’Tis teasin’ you I am, Duff, for sure’n I can think of no one better to be the groom of our fair Skye. Lads, charge your glasses,” he called, holding his mug aloft.
The others rushed to have their own mugs and glasses refilled.