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James glared at his brother, remembering all too well the sharp pains that had gripped his belly and bowels, even after all these years. “’Twas a cruel prank.”

“I dinnae think ye would actually do it,” Malcolm exclaimed defensively.

“’Tis no excuse,” Aileen interjected, crossing her arms. “I stayed up half the night nursing yer brother, worried sick at the possible outcome. All that kept running through my mind were the rumors that Lady Sutherland disposed of her husband by brewing a potion from the leaves and mixing it with his ale.”

“And I hid under my bedcovers and wept, terrified that James was going to die,” Katherine recalled.

“Malcolm meant no harm,” the McKenna insisted. “He cried like a babe until he knew fer certain James had recovered.”

Hearing this for the first time, James turned in surprise toward his brother. Malcolm made a strangled sound of embarrassment and bowed his head. “I dinnae understand how such an innocent plant could cause so much chaos.”

“Ye were only a lad yerself.” The McKenna shook his head in sympathy. “Fortunately, James recovered without any lasting effects.”

Malcolm’s eyes grew amused. “Except fer an unnatural fear of mistletoe.”

Katherine giggled. James glared at his brother, but refused to give him the satisfaction of rising to the bait.

“’Tis best we forget that childhood incident and remember instead the legend of the plant,” the McKenna insisted.

“There’s a legend? I’ve never heard it,” Davina admitted. “I suppose it explains why people kiss beneath it?”

“Och, but there’s always a legend,” James muttered beneath his breath. “This is Scotland.”

Dismissing his attitude, Aileen turned to Davina.

“’Twas Frigga, the goddess of love and beauty, who first kissed all those who passed beneath the tree on which the mistletoe grew,” Aileen explained. “She then issued a decree that whenever anyone walks beneath the mistletoe, they shall have a token kiss and no harm would befall them.”

Davina cocked her head. “’Tis a most friendly decree. Most of the legends I know have vengeful gods and goddesses doing all sorts of ghastly things.”

“Ah, but there’s a good reason fer Frigga’s largesse,” Malcolm added. “The power of the plant saved her son, Balder.”

“With a kiss?” Davina questioned.

“Nay. According to the legend, Balder, god of the summer sun, had a terrible dream in which he died. Frigga, his mother, was alarmed when he told her of it and grieved mightily at the thought of losing her child. Even more important, if Balder died, so too would all life on earth,” Aileen said.

“Balder was her second son, wasn’t he?” James interjected, reaching for another drink. “Killed by his brother, Hadar.”

“Who was blind,” Aileen insisted. “He dinnae know what he was doing.”

James grunted. “Convenient.”

The McKenna waved his hand in the air. “Quiet, James. Let yer mother finish the story.”

James grunted again, but held his tongue.

“In an attempt to save Balder from the horrible fate of his dream, Frigga went to all the elements, animals, and plants on earth and begged them to spare her son.” A sparkle twinkled in Aileen’s eyes as she warmed to the telling of the tale. “They all agreed to leave Balder in peace, but his enemy, Loki, the god of evil, found the one plant that Frigga had forgotten to ask not to harm her beloved Balder—mistletoe.”

Davina’s brows arched knowingly. “I’ve a feeling this story does not end well.”

Aileen’s expression grew serious. “The gods attended an assembly where, being male and used to playing ridiculous games, they took turns in shooting arrows at Balder. All were in awe when they saw that nothing could harm him. Then the evil Loki handed Hadar, Balder’s blind brother, an arrow with a tip poisoned with mistletoe. He tricked Hadar into shooting the arrow and killing Balder.”

“Alas, poor Balder, killed by his brother,” James muttered.

“Tricked into killing his brother,” Malcolm corrected.

With a pointed stare, Aileen ignored her sons and continued. “For three days, the earth grew dark and the skies poured rain. Every living thing and all the elements tried to bring Balder back to life, but none were successful.

“Finally, he was revived by Frigga and the power of the mistletoe. Legend claims that the tears she shed fer her son during those terrible three days fell on the plant and turned the berries white.”