New World Sasanaichs

Fourteen

Upon arriving back at Morgan’s Peak three Days later–which was only to avoid having to answer questions none of them were particularly sure they wanted to answer, especially in Geillis’ presence–the quartet of Elves were more than a lil relieved. None of them’d dared to use their magick to so much as speed up their Travel by a mere Day, let alone longer than that, and they certainly hadn’t dared to use the Transference spell. Whether Lachlan’d advised against it–albeit in Quenya–or not, they’d all instinctively kent that doing such a thing in the presence of the lass wouldn’t have been smart. Course, even if it had, they wouldn’t have wanted to do so with the matron that accompanied her present–who kent how Mrs. Fitz, as she’d insisted on being addressed, woulda reacted to seeing or experiencing such a thing?

        Jamie was undoubtedly the most relieved to finally get back to the homestead, though, and he made absolutely no bones about it as he dismounted the Gelding he’d summoned for himself. Aside from the younger of his brothers-in-law that’d headed into Woolam’s Creek, he was the only one who wasn’t an experienced father or otherwise used to children. He kent that his infant cousin couldn’t help the need to cry every Time he needed something–particularly to be fed by his mother, or have his clout changed–but since he wasn’t used to such racket yet, it annoyed him greatly.

        Naturally, Mrs. Fitz was beyond delighted to see her nephew again, much to Murtagh’s chagrin–especially when she decided his cheeks needed pinching in front of everyone. She was also delighted to learn that–even though they were only handfast for the moment–the ginger lad she considered her nephew just as much had finally taken a wife. Finding out alongside everyone else when they finally decided to break the news that he and Róisín were to be parents before the next Summer was out delighted her even more. It was certainly better than letting everyone dwell on exactly why the women’d decided to make the arduous Journey from Scotland–at least, for the moment.

        “Callum, Dougal–with us, iffen ye please,” the Elvin patriarch said once the womenfolk were distracted with getting the newcomers settled.

        Caught off-guard, the MacKenzie brothers shared a look with each other before Dougal helped his brother rise from the seat he’d settled in to follow him since he didn’t wait for a response.

        “Aye, what’s to do, then?” Callum queried once the menfolk were all shut away within his cabin, particularly the speak-a-word room he’d added after seeing Jamie’s sketch.

        “This is more so directed toward Dougal than no, but I wanted ye present to get yer take on it, too,” he answered, his fingers steepled as his elbows rested on the surface of his desk. “Care to explain to me what all this shite about Gold from King Louis XV is about?”

        The younger MacKenzie brother’s eyes widened, and his Energy screamed guilt, while his brother’s widened at the same Time his jaw dropped in shock.

        “Ye didna do any such thing, did ye?” he demanded, settling into the demeanor of a pissed-off Clan Laird.

        Dougal merely held his Silence, but it was just as incriminating as if he’d actually tried to defend himself.

        “Air sgàth neamh, a mhic an diabhail!” the older MacKenzie brother exploded. “I ordered ye to leave off that shite before ye’d Castle Leoch brought down around all our heids before we ever embarked fer the New World!”

        “Scotland needs its Bonnie Prince back on that Throne!” he argued.
“Nay, it needs men who actually listen to their Lairds!” Callum snapped, putting him in his place with the lone sentence like nobody else could. “I canna ever thank ye enough fer supporting me by being me legs and sword arm, but damnation, Dougal–ye’ve never been able to follow orders worth a shite, and it didna suit ye to do so!”