Page 27 of The Thief (Castle Blackstone #3)

Seabhagnead Castle, Scotland

1424

“Ah, Shamus, there she is.”

Seabhagnead Castle, Ian’s four-storied edifice carved out of sandstone and granite, surrounded by concave, ten- foot-thick battlements and a lovely ditch, stood proud against vibrant heather and a flame-colored sunset, overlooking Loch Eriboll. To the south of it a rather impressive village was taking shape.

Oh, the keep wasn’t as grand as he’d first envisioned it but then, times had gotten a good bit harder after he had confronted Albany and resigned his position. His clan was now dependent on what they could garner from the sea, be it fish or plunder, but that was life. And then there was the ransom.

The moment he’d returned from Stirling he’d sent missives to every chieftain in the land, telling them what he knew about their king. It had taken the chieftains thirteen years to collect the necessary coins which twelve chieftains, Ian among them, had just brought to London, where they secured the release of their king. Finally.

Now, after three arduous months, he was home. He could sit by his hearth dressed in naught but his breachen feile , play with his children, and tup the bloody stuffing out of his beautiful ladywife. Kits in a Basket, here he comes.

With tupping on his mind as it had been for the last week, Ian asked his brother, “So, will you be seeing Maggie now that you’re home?”

His brother huffed. “You know what Maggie is, Ian.”

“Aye, a winsome wench in need of a husband and father for her three wee babes.”

Shamus snorted. “Nay. She’s a death wish. The woman has had three husbands in as many years. No thank you.”

“But the children?”

Shamus swung a fist and caught Ian’s upper arm. “If you’re so concerned about the children, take them in under your roof. None, least of all Katie, will ever notice.”

Ian grinned as a distant trumpet announced their imminent arrival. He and Katie had proved prolific. Thirteen years married and eight bonnie babes.

God, life was good.

As the portcullis rose in welcome, he cuffed his brother back. “Maggie is still winsome, brother, and once they’ve had a taste of loving... ”

“Ack, I would be safer bedding down with yon flock.”

Grinning, Ian waved to those lined up before Seabhagnead’s stout front door, every inch of it cut from timber found on MacKay land.

In the bailey he slid from the saddle as offspring after offspring came running across the square bailey, shouting, “Da, Da!”

Squatting, he hugged each and every one. Tow-headed, dark-headed, flame-headed. All beautiful but more importantly, perfectly sound and normal. Not a fey among them.

Mhaire, just three--and in his opinion the loveliest of the lot for she so favored her mother--held out a bouquet of wilted wild flowers to him. “These are for you, Da!”

“They’re droopy, Mar,” his eldest, Wee Ian--who wasn’t so wee any longer--grumbled. “I told you not to pick ’em yesterday.”

“But I saw him coming yester morn!”

“Enough, you two,” Kate said as she approached, grinning from ear to ear. “Da loves them. Now everyone give him a kiss and then be gone so Mama has her chance.”

After his bairns did as they were told---intelligent wee dauties the lot of them, if he did say so himself—-Ian grabbed Kate by her fine hurdies and kissed her senseless. ‘Twasn’t until after she sighed contentedly that he thought about precisely what Mhaire had said. “ Katie, what did Mar mean by she saw me coming yester morn?”

Kate, ignoring the question, waved to the door. “Come, love. You and Shamus must be starved.”

Suspicious, he opened his mouth to ask again, but Kate squealed in alarm and took off at a run in the opposite direction. ’Twas then Ian spotted wee Brion, all of a year and a bit, and still on Kate’s teat, chasing after their gamely rooster, which no doubt meant Brion needed to give up said aforementioned teat in Ian’s none-too-humble opinion. Humph! ‘Twas a wonder the place functioned without him.

After his squire took Thor’s reins, Ian—-with a giggling child hanging off each leg--shouted to Shamus, “I really think you need give some thought to the widow.”

Shamus looked at him as if he was totally insane, then called to wee Robbie, “Want a ride?”

Child on his back and with a few more trailing behind, Shamus, laughing, disappeared into the keep.

At which point Katie rounded the corner with Brion in her arms, and Ian slowed to admire her still-lush shape and long, youthful stride. “You grow lovelier with each passing season, Katie.”

She blushed. “Go on with you. Sup is waiting as are your whelps. They’ve missed you and are most anxious to hear about your journey.”

What they were really interested in were the surprises he had for each of them in his saddle bags, but then he’d been the same at their ages. He waggled an eyebrow at her. “And their mama?”

“Oh aye, my lord.”

Once everyone was fed and the wee ones were abed, the adults settled on benches and pillows before the sandstone hearth, anxious for news of his journey and of their king.

“So he’s truly home?” Erik asked.

“Aye, truly, but in Perth.”

“What did Murdoch have to say?” Travis asked.

Their regent had high-tailed it like a deer. “He and his family were gone by the time we arrived.”

Kate asked, “When will he go to Scone to be crowned?”

Ian suspected it wouldn’t be long in coming, given the current tensions. “We’ll hear as soon as arrangement can be made. The man has waited a long time to be crowned, and I’m sure he wants the event to be worthy of a king.”

An hour later he had finished his tale to everyone’s satisfaction and looked at Kate. As if reading his mind, she winked then stretched and yawned in grand fashion. “Will you be joining me, my lord?”

Grinning, he scooped her into his arms. His poor Katie. She still worried about James, her reasoning being that despite all he’d endured James was still a Stewart to the bone, and lastly she still had nightmares about him although less specific than in the past.

Sequestered in their comfortable solar he found a hot fragrant bath awaiting him. An hour later they lay satiated in each other’s arms.

“Kate?”

“Hmm?”

He brushed her hair--now shot with silver at her temples--off her face. “What did Mar mean when she said she had seen me coming yesterday morn?”

Kate ran her fingers through the once-gold, now sandy, curls on his chest. “You know how you’re always saying Mar favors me? Well, she really favors me.”

Ian frowned. “You mean...?”

“Aye, love, she’s fey .”

“Oh.” After a moment he dared ask, “How so?”

Kate grinned. “Yesterday she awoke, climbed into our bed and gave me a kiss. A moment later she said, ‘Mama, Da’s coming home tomorrow and he’s bringing oranges and kits in a basket.’”