Page 38 of An Allusive Love
“Me? Ye’ve no’ played chess with me since ye barely won the last time. Afraid of losing and ye canna tell me any different,” huffed Calum, then waved at Brodie. “Sit down and take yer punishment. I hear her coming.”
Brigid emerged from the staircase with a tray of tarts. To Brodie’s surprise, they were golden brown, several with minced apples oozing from the edges.
“It smells mouth-watering,” ventured Glynnis.
“And flaky,” added Lissie.
She carefully set down the tray and watched each family member gingerly choose a pastry. Brigid stood between Brodie and Calum, her hands twisting, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip.
Calum sniffed the warm shell and tentatively licked the warm spicy center oozing out. His blue eyes lit up with wonder. “The apples are verra tasty,” he exclaimed before sinking his teeth into the crust. “Mmm.”
Brodie’s eyes widened as his grandfather’s closed. He looked at his sister who had begun to smile, hope shining in her eyes. He bit into the dessert and chewed, then took another bite.
“Oh gracious,” exclaimed Peigi, “these are wonderful.”
His sister beamed. Was that a tear glistening in her eye? Could she be that happy over a tart? Or was it because she had bested her brother? He hated to admit defeat, but the pastry was delicious. He’d gladly have two.
“It’s light and buttery,” his mother said around a mouthful.
“The outer shell is just the right crispness and the apples are baked to perfection,” agreed his grandmother.
Brigid plopped down next to him, beaming. “Brodie?”
He nodded. “Ye’ve won, little sister.”
“Now ye have to ask Kirsty to marry ye,” she said.
Brodie was surprised. Not a hint of smugness in her tone. He opened his mouth to announce he’d already done so, when she leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“She’s my best friend in the world, and I’ve helped to make her the happiest woman in the glen.” She studied the table and traced the wood grain with a finger, pink staining her cheeks as she admitted, “Kirsty is the sister I’ve always wanted. That’s why I never gave up. Ye’ve made both our dreams come true.”
Brodie studied his sister. She wasn’t the sentimental type, and a confession like this would have been difficult for her. Brigid may have a tough outer shell, but she was more fragile on the inside than she would ever admit. How could he belittle her effort by telling her it had been unnecessary? That he had already proposed? He blew out a loud breath, knowing it would be misinterpreted.
“Aye, ye minx. Consider us betrothed.” He smiled. “And I’m proud of ye. And Enid, for letting ye back into her kitchen.”
“Weel, about that,” she said with a grin. “I may no’ be so welcome again.”
“It seems congratulations are in order for both my grandchildren,” boomed Calum. “Fetch the decanter, Brodie. We’ll drink to Brigid’s accomplishment and Brodie’s future betrothal.”
A disturbance in the courtyard interrupted their celebration. Lissie looked out the paned glass. “Someone has arrived on horseback. The beastie is sweating as if the devil had chased them.”
A muffled yell from below and an answering voice, and soon the panting man stood before them. He held an envelope in their hand.
“Jason, ye’ve come from the mill?” asked his grandfather.
The man nodded.
“Och, mon, dinna just stand there. What is it?” coaxed Calum in a quiet but firm voice.
But the hairs rose on the back of Brodie’s neck. The villager worked for them in Glasgow. There was no good reason he would be racing pell-mell to MacNaughton Castle.
Jason opened his mouth, but no words came out. Brodie saw the pain in the man’s brown eyes. Instead, the man walked forward and handed his chief the envelope.
Brodie admired his grandfather’s composure as he calmly cracked the seal and opened the letter. As he watched Calum’s face, his own heart cracked. Tears sprang to Calum’s eyes, and he swallowed once, then twice as he tried to form words. Silently, he handed the paper to Glynnis and Peigi, their heads bent together as they read.
“What?” Brodie couldn’t stand it.
Lissie shook her head, her eyes shining. “Ian’s coming home, isn’t he?”
