earl’s jewelled hand, both of which rested on the polished surface of the table in an easy manner.
It had been many years since Lachlan last saw the Earl of Albermarle, and when Lord Erroll had announced his presence in the stables, he recollected vaguely the image of a regal and intimidating figure.
Confronted with the man in the flesh once more , he was every bit as formidable as Lachlan remembered. His thick, dark hair, which drifted to his shoulders and pillowed there, was elegantly streaked with silver threads. A fine fox-fur cloak was fastened across his breast and drawn back to reveal a stylish tunic of pearl-crusted black velvet. He smiled when Lachlan approached.
“Viscount Strathcairn,” he acknowledged with a slight teasing tone.
“Yer Lordship,” Lachlan answered , bowing. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Lord Albermarle sat forward in his chair , releasing his grip on the goblet. Assessing the young Viscount’s tall, lean form he said, “I come wi’ summons.”
“Wi’ summons, my Lord? Who summons me?”
“Lord Kildrummond; he requests an audience wi’ ye.”
“My aunt is no’ ill, is she?
“Nay, lad. Lady Glinis is well. As beauteous as ever.”
“ I am glad to hear it. If it isna my aunt, then what other reason can Lord Kildrummond have for summoning me?”
A secretive smile passed over the earl’s lips, though it did not quite reach his eyes. “ That , Lord Strathcairn,” he said enigmatically, “I canna tell ye. As much as I’d like to, the old goat forbade me to breathe a word of it. Says he wants to speak wi’ ye personally. And I, being the loyal kinsman I am, have acquiesced in consideration of his health.”
“ I’d heard he were poorly. He’ll recover though, nay?”
Lord Albermarle glanced to Lord Erroll, a shadow passing over his handsome face. “Nay, he willna.”
“Oh ... I see.” Lachlan shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of the proper response. Lord Albermarle and Lord Kildrummond, he knew, were close. Not only in proximity, for theirs were neighbouring lands, but each man was in high esteem of the other. The pain in Lord Albermarle’s statement was thick. Almost tangible. He looked like a man deeply affected by his kinsman’s impending death.
He also, Lachlan thought, looked like a man that would not appreciate an offer of condolences from a lowly Viscount such as himself. Wisely, he decided to keep quiet.
“ Given that there isna much time left for Lord Kildrummond, ye’ll come wi’ me on the morrow to see him,” Lord Albermarle concluded. “If ye be willing, that is. And also if Lord Erroll be willing to part wi’ ye.”
“ Of course I am,” Lord Erroll answered.
“My Lord, are ye sure this is the best time? Wi’ things the way they are at present—”
“Dinna worry about all that, lad. We’re no’ on the eve of war just yet. I havena given Moray my answer. Indeed, he’ll no’ have it any time soon, for I wish to consider it in great detail.”
“ Moray?” Lord Albermarle questioned. “Ye mean to say that Douglas seeks the support of Clan Hay? So he’s determined to keep the feud wi’ old Fiery Face alive then, is he?”
Lord Erroll shrugged. Lachlan looked between both men, confused. “I thought James Douglas were the ninth Earl of Douglas.”
“He is, lad,” Lord Albermarle replied.
“Then who is Moray?”
“ Archibald Douglas. James’s brother, and the Earl of Moray.”
“Isna Lord Albermarle from Moray?”
Both lords laughed heartily at Lachlan’s naivety.
“Edward Douglas, Earl of Albermarle who ye see be fore ye, holds the lands of Kinross which are in Moray,” Lord Erroll explained. “Just as John Douglas, Earl of Kildrummond, holds lands which are also in Moray. But that isna to say that either is the Earl of Moray. Honestly, Strathcairn, ye’ll need to learn who’s who in this business wi’ the Black Douglases where ye’re going. And soon.”
“ Lord Douglas—that is James, the