‘Precisely.’
‘So. Do you have someone in mind?’
‘It might reassure you that I have Jamie’s welfare so much in mind that I am considering in one fell swoop to find him a mother and repair the rift between the Lochmores and McCrieffs.’
‘And they agree? I understood that there was always bad blood between the families.’
‘That is an understatement. We have a long and inglorious history of real and imagined causes for mutual resentment. Even the fact that my grandfather convinced old King George to grant him a dukedom and compounded that insult by keeping the clan name as title was another stick in that fire. I think the balance was partially redressed once my father’s rejection of a McCrieff bride was met with their rejection of my Aunt Morag as a suitable bride for Lord Aberwyld. But unlike his forebearers, McCrieff realises the contention between us affects the sheep and kelp trades in the area and, being substantially poorer, he can afford that far less than Lochmore. It is also interfering with other plans of mine and I cannot allow that, so now my father is dead I am testing the waters.’
‘One doesn’t test the waters with a man like McCrieff. If this is the case, no doubt he has already engaged lawyers to draw up the settlement papers.’
Benneit shrugged. It was close enough to the truth.
‘So I see this trip is in the nature of a last escape, Lochmore. Still, even if you’ve marked your bride, it will take time, this wooing and wedding business. Why not allow Joane to go with Jamie until you make other arrangements, either for Jamie or for yourself. If at any time you find her presence de trop, send her back to me.’
‘You talk about her as if she was a book or a piece of furniture. Take her up to the Highlands, send her down when you are through with her.’
‘Well, it will do her good, too. My niece Celia has become a tad too dependent on Joane. The poor girl barely had time to mourn.’
‘What happened to him? To Langdale?’
‘He broke his neck in a fall from a horse. Most unfortunate. Died in debt and the house and everything was entailed. She has a competence, but no more.’
‘Langdale fell from a horse? I thought the man was born on one.’
‘We are at our most arrogant where we are most comfortable. I dare say he appreciated finding his end in such a manner since he cared more for his horses than anything else, possibly even more than for poor Joane. In a year or so I shall find her another husband, but for the moment it could suit both our purposes for her to see to Jamie until you wed again. She is very good with children.’
‘I don’t care if she is the St Francis of children, I... Oh, never mind. But this is the very last time you interfere with me or with Jamie. Am I clear?’
‘I could hardly misunderstand. Really, Benneit, you used to be so much more polished—these years in the freezing north have stripped you of your charming veneer. Go fetch Joane and your little boy. And do have him put on his shoes. A future Duke running about barefoot is most improper.’
‘Look!’ Jamie bounced up and down in front of the wall.
Jo had to admit the map was magnificent. It was not a framed painting of a map, but painted directly on the wall, and it was, as Jamie had said, enormous.
‘My goodness! It is as big as the world itself!’ she concurred and Jamie laughed. He had his father’s laugh and it was strange to hear that deep rumble from the little child, but like his father’s it was infectious and she smiled. It was strange what one remembered, even after so long. Though the man in the drawing room hadn’t looked capable of laughter. Was he still in such pain over Bella’s death?
‘No, it isn’t, silly,’ Jamie replied, reaching up as high as he could. ‘It can’t be or there wouldn’t be room for everything that is, would there?’
‘That is most true! You are clever!’
‘I know. Papa says I’m cleverest of all the Lochmores, even him!’
‘Does he now? Though I suppose you have to be very clever to know someone is even cleverer than you.’
He frowned.
‘So is Papa cleverer than me or me than him?’
‘Well, you are both cleverer than I, so I certainly won’t be able to answer that question.’
Jamie stared up at her, his eyes surprisingly warm despite their dark colour. He had Bella’s eyes, thick lashed and slightly uptilted at the corner, but she could not tell yet if the rest of his face favoured his father’s sharper-cut lines and rough male appeal or Bella’s delicate beauty. Whatever the case, with two such impressive parents he would probably be a handsome young man.
‘I think you are very clever,’ he said seriously, as if still working through her answer. ‘You found Muck and I have been searching for days. I shall be an explorer, you know.’
‘You look like an explorer. You certainly have the feet of an explorer.’
He glanced at his feet in wonder.
‘I do?’
‘Oh, yes. I am good at seeing what people really are. Will you explore Muck?’
The wonder became a grin.
‘Papa says I explore muck too much. Mud muck, not this Muck.’ He pointed to the map. ‘You said we will find Foula.’
‘And so we shall. Shall we sail from Muck?’
‘No, from home. Do you know where my home is?’
She turned to search the map, tracing the road from Inveraray.
‘Here?’
‘A little more, no...’ He was straining to reach upwards and she picked him up. He stiffened for a moment and then adjusted to settle on her hip and poked one still-plump finger to the tip of a tiny spit of green surrounded by blue. The colour was a little faded there, as if it had been touched often. By Jamie or by a younger Benneit Lochmore?
‘Here.’
He was not very heavy, though he was taller than her four-year-old cousin, Philip. His arm curved around her neck as he leaned forward to show her the point of the map and his body was snug against hers. She often held her cousins’ children. It was part of what she did—Aunt Joane picked up and put down and fetched and fixed and...
And this was different.
She did not pick this boy up because he expected it of her, but because he didn’t expect it at all. She saw it the moment he was brought into the drawing room that morning by his elderly nurse and the scarred, red-haired giant. He was, like his father, an island, self-sufficient and inward-looking despite his cheerfulness. Six years ago she’d noticed the same quality in Benneit Lochmore—behind the smiling charm was something still and watchful and unreachable. It had made her uncomfortable around him, as if he could see past her own armour and read her secret, resentful thoughts.
‘You have pretty hair,’ Jamie said, his voice dreamy.
She almost dropped him, but his legs tightened around her waist.
‘I do?’
‘It is like the colour of the desert in my new book. Papa bought it in the great big book store and it is my favourite book and Papa reads it to me, but I can find words, too. I will explore the desert when I am big. There are camels! Do you know what a camel is?’
‘Tell me.’
‘It is like a horse because you ride it, but it has a hill on its back and