Page 1 of The Lass and the Laird

Chapter One

Moriag, in the Northeast Highlands of Scotland

Declan Gordon pulled his horse to a stop to take in the scene before him. Majestic and lush, a heavy misting gave the illusion his new home rested in a heavenly realm. He pulled his tartan tighter to dispel the coolness of the evening air.

The stone keep was nestled amongst the clouds. At least it seemed so as it sat in a clearing of rich flora with a backdrop of the hazy Highland mountains to its rear and the shore of a loch on its left.

His childhood friend, Ian, pulled alongside, his massive, gray gelding pawing the ground. "Is that it?"

"Aye, it is. Our new home. Moriag."

"Larger than I expected." Ian scanned the surroundings and scowled, his dark blond hair glistening from droplets of light drizzle. "Is it true that a Campbell owns the lands to one side and a McNeil those on the other?"

"From what my mother always said, clans never fight here. But instead to this day co-exist in peace. Has been that way since my great-grandfather settled in these parts."

The wind picked up, with it the smell of rain.

The deeper glower on Ian's face mirrored his own sentiments. After an entire lifetime of constant clashes and an eye over one's shoulder on Gordon lands, it was hard to fathom the thought of peace. Both he and Ian had lived the life of warriors, a sword within reach at all times.

Was it possible now to live with no wariness about the land’s encroachers, border infringements, stolen cattle, or such? Declan surmised he would find out.

"Still, I would feel better if we got inside before dark." Declan motioned for the other riders to take the horses to a trot. "I am not sure what to expect, so better to have the advantage of what's left of daylight."

Once they neared, a lad, who must have been keeping an eye out, sprinted toward the inner courtyard inside yelling at the top of his lungs. "The laird arrives."

Laird. He was now the overseer of the large keep, lands, and people. Something he'd never dared dream of.

By the time Declan and his six men brought the horses to a stand inside the tidy courtyard, eight people were lined up with expressions of barely concealed curiosity. Every eye followed his progress as he dismounted and walked to them. Declan ensured to maintain a calm façade although, inside, his stomach flipped and his heart thudded against his breastbone.

A large woman with rosy cheeks wearing a crisp apron and matching cap, stepped forward, in front of the rest. "Welcome, Laird. I am Pat, your cook and housemistress.” She attempted a curtsy, but it came out more like a bob, being her girth was as wide as her height. "Welcome to yer new home."

One by one, two lads and three maids were introduced. An older gardener and stable hand were last to make his acquaintance.

Declan wasn't sure how to address his newly acquired staff. He'd never considered the fact that he'd one day have a keep of his own. As second born, it was not in his birthright. Like most sons without expectation of taking over after their father, he'd concentrated on far less finer pursuits.

His older brother, Carrick, had been more than generous upon bequeathing to Declan their mother's home after becoming laird of Clan Gordon. A gift he didn't deserve. He pushed away thoughts of guilt at how he'd never tried to be close to Carrick and brought his attention back to the present.

The small staff waited for him to speak. He inclined his head in greeting and made eye contact with each person. "I am grateful for the warm welcome. Greetings from my brother and his wife." He motioned to his men and introduced them starting with Ian. His men seemed as ill at ease as he felt at the staff's close scrutiny. "Ian is my second, will stand in my stead when I am away. My guardsmen are Dugan..." He introduced each, ensuring the six men were greeted.

Carrick instructed he must immediately take control and not allow for wavering. The people of Moriag were keen and would sense any failing in their laird. He looked to the older man. "See to it that the horses are stabled, brushed down, and fed." He turned his attention back to Pat. "My men and I require a meal after settling. The guardsmen will sleep in the courtyard rooms. I expect they've been readied." He motioned to the row of neat guard quarters just inside the courtyard. "Ian and I will inhabit two rooms on the second floor."

"Of course, Laird. All of the rooms have been prepared," Pat assured him with a proud smile. "I have personally inspected each space to make sure all is as it should be."

The older man stepped up and, before long, he and another lad, who appeared from where he assumed were the stables, guided some of the horses away. Ian and another of his men followed behind them.

Not surprising to Declan. Ian would never allow another to see to his steed until he trusted the stable hands. And even then, it was doubtful. It was not in Ian's nature and no one challenged him when it came to the care of the beast whose ill temper was legendary.

The housemistress motioned at two maids and a lad to take his and Ian's bags inside.

The four remaining guardsmen waited for instruction. "Go see about settling. If you need bathing, the loch is as good a place as any tonight. I suppose after that you can ask for a bath in the kitchens. I'll be in the great room after a bit.” Proper warriors, the men walked away with their horses, seeing about settling the beasts before themselves.

Feeling odd at being laird, he took in every space as he followed Pat inside the large home.

The interior was well cared for, fresh rushes on the floors. Colorful tapestries hung on tall, stone walls helped to mute the echoes of their heavy footfalls. Lined up like soldiers in two long rows, newly built tables and benches gleamed with fresh polish. After garnering a glare from Pat, in whispered tones the lads rushed two tall hunting dogs outside. She gave him a quick nod. "The hounds were left here by yer brother. Said you'd have good use of them for hunting."

"They are fine dogs. They may be allowed inside at night," he answered and Pat relaxed.

"Very well, my laird."