The Spitfire Read Online Free Page A

repeated irritably. “I’ll tell ye what it is, Master Robert. Mistress Meg is near collapse, and Mistress Mary and wee Geordie chilled to the bone and hungry. I’ve already lost one of my precious bairns.” Tears ran down her cheeks, though her voice remained strong. “Am I to lose another while ye two plot a vengeance that could just as easily be plotted before a warm fire and a plate of hot food?”
    The barest hint of a smile touched the corners of Tavis Stewart’s stern mouth as Una loudly scolded the laird. She was a tiny bit of a wiry woman, but it was pointedly obvious she feared little. “Can yer bairns sit a horse, old woman?” he demanded of her.
    “Aye,” she answered him. “I’ll ride pillion wi’ Mistress Mary. Mistress Meg can ride wi’ Master Robert, but someone will have to take our Geordie. I would wish for a cart if I could, for I dinna like the four-legged beasties myself. And where are we to go, I should like to know?”
    “Ye’ll be coming to Dunmor, good dame, and I’ll take yer littlest bairn wi’ me. My mother, Lady Fleming, will advise me in the matter of these little ones, and ye’ll stay at Dunmor until Culcairn House is rebuilt,” the earl told her.
    Dame Una nodded. “‘Tis right ye gie us shelter,” she said matter-of-factly. Then she moved off to where her charges waited, seated upon large stones that had once been a part of their home.
    “She was one of our great-grandsire’s bastards,” the laird explained. “Her mam nursed his legitimate bairns.”
    “I understand,” the earl replied. “She is kin, and that is a good thing, for kin are usually loyal.”
    The laird flushed as if the words had been meant as a rebuke. “I did nae know what to do about Eufemia,” he explained helplessly, as if the explanation were required of him. “She was my elder by three years. After our mother died birthing Geordie, our father gave in to her every whim. She was his eldest and always his favorite, though he never said it. Then father was killed last year, and I could nae more control her than he could. She had a way wi’ her, my lord,” Robert Hamilton finished simply.
    “Eufemia cast no spell over me, Rob, though I should have probably beaten her if she had been my sister and behaved so. I hardly knew her, though I did hope in time we would come to like and respect one another. Ye know why I asked for her. It is time for me to wed, as my mother is ever preaching at me. I like the idea of having kin whose lands abut mine. Then, too, Eufemia was a pretty creature, and a man likes a pretty woman in his bed, for it makes his bedsport pleasant.”
    “Aye,” the laird agreed cheerfully, “and ‘tis nice when they smell good too. Eufemia always smelt like wild roses.” Then remembering himself, Robert Hamilton said, “I do thank ye for coming to our aid, my lord, and for the shelter ye offer my family and servants.” The earl’s reasons for marriage did not surprise Robert Hamilton, for they were sound and practical reasons. Love was generally something that came later in a marriage, if it came at all. Love, more often than not, had little to do with a good match. He was flattered that the Earl of Dunmor had asked for his elder sister’s hand in marriage, for indeed, as King James’ half brother, Tavis Stewart might have sought far higher. Until this possibility of an alliance between their families had arisen, he had not known the earl, for Dunmor was often at court in his brother’s service. His reputation, however, was that of a fair, though hard man.
    “There’s serious rain threatening, Rob,” the Earl said, breaking into his thoughts. “Spring is early this year. Yer sisters and little brother dinna look to me as if they’ll last much longer. We hae best be going.”
    The laird cast a worried glance at his younger siblings.”Aye,” he said, and suddenly he felt exhausted again.
    The earl saw the look upon the young man’s face, and he said, “The sooner