“Rubbish!” Rose had once said. Now she glanced over her shoulder, fearful of what she might see behind her.
Naught but bright trees and a pale blue sky, thanks be to God.
Easing her pace, she set her sights on home and the hours ahead. ’Twas Neil Elliot she would think about this Hallowmas Eve. Neil and no other. She would look for his image in the mirror at midnight, and hope that the apple paring spelled out his name. For if he asked for her hand come Monday, she must know her heart. And she must have an answer.
Twelve
The look of love alarms
Because ’tis fill’d with fire.
W ILLIAM B LAKE
M ind the fire!” Neda cautioned. Jamie poked the dried kale stalks into the burning peat until the torch was duly lit, then handed the bound stalks to a servant lad, who ran off to join the others gathering out of doors. Walking the boundaries of one’s property, torches held high, was a time-honored means of protecting the household from calamity, a custom even the kirk could not snuff out. Next Hallowmas Eve Jamie planned to be lighting torches for Glentrool; this October his duties remained at Auchengray.
“That’s the last o’ them.” Neda plunged her torch into the fire, motioning at Jamie to do the same. “Your uncle will be anxious tae get started, afore we lose the light o’ day athegither .” Jamie followed her out the door, keeping his smoldering kale well away from curtains and clothing, and found his place among the two dozen family members and servants assembled on the lawn.
Lachlan gripped his torch like a broadax and barked out orders. “See that you’re the same distance apart. Keep your torch in your right hand. Hold it up, I tell you, or you’ll set the shrubbery on fire!” No one laughed at the man, however pensie his behavior.
When Jamie looked back to make certain Leana was in place, he could not help but notice Rose as well. Dressed in a blue gown, her hair cascading down her back, she looked like the Queen of the Fairies herself. His hand clenched the rough kale stalks, the memory of watching Neil Elliot kissing Rose still fresh in his mind. How dare the lad take advantage of her innocence!
His conscience pricked him. Righteous anger, is it? Naught else? Jamie swerved toward the front, swinging the torch in an arc and scattering sparks across the lawn. He had no claim on the lass, nor she on him. Let Rose kiss every man in the parish if she liked! Leana was his concern now. When he felt a light tap on his shoulder, Jamie swung his head round, prepared to give Rose a good scolding.
Instead Leana stood behind him, holding out her left hand. “Look what I pulled from an oat stalk earlier.” She held her torch closer to illumine the seeds in her palm. “Seven seeds from a single stalk.”
“Seven children then,” he murmured, feeling his pounding heart ease.
“That’s what the auld wives say.” She waved her hand through the air, scattering the seeds. “If you put any stock in such things.”
Jamie eyed her in amazement. “You do not?”
“Almighty God is the one who blesses a womb,” she said in a tone of quiet confidence, brushing her hand across her skirts. “If the future holds seven bairns for us, Jamie, I shall welcome every one. ’Tis not a handful of seeds that tells me that but a heart full of faith.”
Jamie swallowed, overcome by her simple assurance. “You are too good for me, Leana,” he said at last.
“Nae, I am far from virtuous. Or have you forgotten our wedding night?” Her smile was tinged with sadness. “Walk on, Jamie. Hallowmas Eve awaits.”
The gloaming faded into a black, starless night as the household began their slow procession, keeping close to the dry stane dykes that marked the boundaries of Auchengray proper. The earth was spongy and uneven, littered with stones. Jamie put down each booted foot with care, keeping one eye on Lachlan’s stiff back and the other on the murky ground before him.
“Thrice and done,” Lachlan
Naught but bright trees and a pale blue sky, thanks be to God.
Easing her pace, she set her sights on home and the hours ahead. ’Twas Neil Elliot she would think about this Hallowmas Eve. Neil and no other. She would look for his image in the mirror at midnight, and hope that the apple paring spelled out his name. For if he asked for her hand come Monday, she must know her heart. And she must have an answer.
Twelve
The look of love alarms
Because ’tis fill’d with fire.
W ILLIAM B LAKE
M ind the fire!” Neda cautioned. Jamie poked the dried kale stalks into the burning peat until the torch was duly lit, then handed the bound stalks to a servant lad, who ran off to join the others gathering out of doors. Walking the boundaries of one’s property, torches held high, was a time-honored means of protecting the household from calamity, a custom even the kirk could not snuff out. Next Hallowmas Eve Jamie planned to be lighting torches for Glentrool; this October his duties remained at Auchengray.
“That’s the last o’ them.” Neda plunged her torch into the fire, motioning at Jamie to do the same. “Your uncle will be anxious tae get started, afore we lose the light o’ day athegither .” Jamie followed her out the door, keeping his smoldering kale well away from curtains and clothing, and found his place among the two dozen family members and servants assembled on the lawn.
Lachlan gripped his torch like a broadax and barked out orders. “See that you’re the same distance apart. Keep your torch in your right hand. Hold it up, I tell you, or you’ll set the shrubbery on fire!” No one laughed at the man, however pensie his behavior.
When Jamie looked back to make certain Leana was in place, he could not help but notice Rose as well. Dressed in a blue gown, her hair cascading down her back, she looked like the Queen of the Fairies herself. His hand clenched the rough kale stalks, the memory of watching Neil Elliot kissing Rose still fresh in his mind. How dare the lad take advantage of her innocence!
His conscience pricked him. Righteous anger, is it? Naught else? Jamie swerved toward the front, swinging the torch in an arc and scattering sparks across the lawn. He had no claim on the lass, nor she on him. Let Rose kiss every man in the parish if she liked! Leana was his concern now. When he felt a light tap on his shoulder, Jamie swung his head round, prepared to give Rose a good scolding.
Instead Leana stood behind him, holding out her left hand. “Look what I pulled from an oat stalk earlier.” She held her torch closer to illumine the seeds in her palm. “Seven seeds from a single stalk.”
“Seven children then,” he murmured, feeling his pounding heart ease.
“That’s what the auld wives say.” She waved her hand through the air, scattering the seeds. “If you put any stock in such things.”
Jamie eyed her in amazement. “You do not?”
“Almighty God is the one who blesses a womb,” she said in a tone of quiet confidence, brushing her hand across her skirts. “If the future holds seven bairns for us, Jamie, I shall welcome every one. ’Tis not a handful of seeds that tells me that but a heart full of faith.”
Jamie swallowed, overcome by her simple assurance. “You are too good for me, Leana,” he said at last.
“Nae, I am far from virtuous. Or have you forgotten our wedding night?” Her smile was tinged with sadness. “Walk on, Jamie. Hallowmas Eve awaits.”
The gloaming faded into a black, starless night as the household began their slow procession, keeping close to the dry stane dykes that marked the boundaries of Auchengray proper. The earth was spongy and uneven, littered with stones. Jamie put down each booted foot with care, keeping one eye on Lachlan’s stiff back and the other on the murky ground before him.
“Thrice and done,” Lachlan
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