Free Fair Is the Rose by Liz Curtis Higgs

steps with them, blessing the bairn with her favor. Much as Leana longed to discount the old customs, some beliefs were more troublesome to put out of mind, a curse on her babe chief among them.
    “Do not worry yourself further.” Jamie bent his head toward hers.“We will flit from this neighborhood by autumn’s end, far from that woman’s influence. Be comforted in knowing the lad is baptized and kirked and therefore belongs to Almighty God and no other.”
    “Aye,” Leana agreed, looking up at the darkening clouds. “I shall remember.”

Nine
    Why was an independent wish
E’er planted in my mind?
    R OBERT B URNS
    N ephew, I’ll not hear of you taking my grandson on so perilous a journey.” Lachlan McBride waved his hand dismissively, as if the matter were settled. “Auchengray is your home now. ’Tis time you accepted that fact.”
    Jamie gripped the mantel, where the clock ticked with dreary persistence, reminding him of the late hour. Nearly ten. The storm had subsided, leaving a few raindrops still tapping on the windowpanes. Inside the crowded spence that served as Lachlan’s bedroom and study, the stale air smelled of beeswax and old books. Leather-bound ledgers, their spines cracked from constant use, lined his narrow desk. A round sterling tray with a decanter of whisky remained untouched that night. Half the household had drifted off to sleep by now. But not his uncle. Nor Jamie himself, not until he had made his intentions clear.
    “I’ve done my duty by you, Uncle Lachlan. Even you cannot deny it.” His face felt hot like the peat fire by his boots. If only his words were as sharp as an iron poker. “The time has come for me to attend to matters at Glentrool.”
    “I’m certain Rowena has things well in hand.” Lachlan smiled, a crooked line drawn across a face weathered by sixty Scottish winters. He ran his hand back and forth over a rough spot on the mahogany table beside him, all the while staring at the carpet as though remembering something. “My sister has a talent for managing a house.”
    “Aye, and everyone in it.” Jamie pushed himself away from the mantel to pace the floor of the small room. His mother took great delight in ordering others about—her husband, Alec, included. Jamie had vowed never to marry so willful a lass as Rowena McKie, andindeed he had not; Leana was as pliable as a willow branch. He turned toward his uncle and reminded him, “Mother sent me to your door a year ago, intending that I remain at Auchengray only long enough to marry one of your daughters.”
    Lachlan’s hand stilled, though he did not look up. “You nearly married them both, lad,” he said. “Sorting out such irregularities took time.”
    “ Time? ” Jamie paused to stare at the man seated before him. “Seven months of caring for your flocks are what it took! Seven months that have come and gone, Uncle. My debt is paid, and my life is my own.”
    “Is it, now?” Lachlan sat back in his chair, appraising Jamie with eyes as cold as a gray, wintry sky. “Duncan trusted your husbandry skills enough to let you choose the tups. Will you not stay the month and see our ewes bred?”
    Jamie’s shoulders sank. Only a churl would leave in the midst of breeding season. “Through October then. For Duncan’s sake.”
    Lachlan propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and made a tent with his fingers, tapping them in time with the clock. “Even if Leana and the babe were fit to travel by Martinmas, which I doubt, your assistance would be missed at the feeing in Dumfries when we hire new shepherds. So would Leana’s careful tending of my ledgers.”
    “But if we wait ’til late November, the weather—”
    “Aye.” Lachlan cut him off. “Another good reason to wait ’til spring.”
    Jamie spun on his heel. “ Spring? ”
    “After all the work you’ll do to breed them, you’ll want to see the lambs birthed, aye?”
    When Jamie was too stunned to respond, his uncle pressed his