Free Scotch Rising by S. J. Garland

severe bun at the back of her head, no wig and no powder on her face, not even the hint of a black beauty patch marred her creamy complexion. If we met by chance in a ballroom, or even in the street, I do not think I would have given her a second glance. Something in her green eyes warranted a second look. Intelligent, not striking as my wife’s dark eyes and hair, any man meeting Onatah would fall immediately in love with her.
    Philomena turned to acknowledge a discreet cough from another doorway, nodding she turned back. “I think Cook is ready fur us,” she leaned down to help her father from the low couch. He held her arm as they led the way through to the heavily decorated dining room with a table set cosily for four, even though it could easily fit twenty diners. I tried to reconcile the fabulous display of wealth of both the drawing room and the dining room with the subdued appearance of my three supper companions. They gave no hint at the opulent tastes surrounding them. The room would be the envy of any society hostess in London.
    Beathan leaned over from his seat next to mine and with a nod he indicated the room at large. “My late mother’s tastes ran tae the fanciful, as an heiress from a great family she took pleasure in redecorating the castle tae current fashion.” He smiled at Philomena. “If only my younger sister could delight in such pastimes, perhaps she would be seated at her own table this evening.”
    Sniffing in contempt, “I see nae reason fur me tae leave Faither’s board.” Philomena let the server shake out and place her napkin. “My absence would only result in a complete lack of female entertainment in this household. It isnae as if we were in danger of yer wife making an imminent appearance.”
    Choking back a laugh into my soup – Philomena certainly knew how to expose a man – I felt myself relax in the presence of the two siblings. Bickering looked commonplace between them and their father’s smile showed a true affection for the two. It was rare to see a man take such concern over his children.
    Philomena gently laid her spoon to rest on the table, frowning at Beathan before she spoke directly to me, “Captain, before my brither and I ruin this pleasant evening baiting each other with auld grievances. Let us turn a new page. We hae heard of yer recently being in Boston, please tell us of yer adventures.”
    Three faces peered over the supper table eager to hear of the adventures of a soldier in the New World, to delight in learning of the hardships faced away from civilization, gasp over the brutality to be found and be warmed over the vast richness of the land I had left behind. My heart still beat across the ocean. “I am afraid I am not much of a storyteller and you will find me incredibly dull.”
    Magnus selected a portion of roast lamb from the attendant and waved his hand in my direction. “Nonsense, Captain, we are only the three of us, except when Beathan or Philomena’s friends come fur a stay in the country fur distraction. Though I secretly ponder what distractions Markinch could possibly hold over the likes of Auld Reikie or London, we are in want of honest company.”
    “Indeed, Captain, ye will be doing me a favour by speaking on the subject.” Philomena leaned forward in her seat. “Books on the New World are exceedingly hard tae come by all the way up here and I am currently waiting fur my copy of Dr Preston’s newly published experiences of his adventures in the Americas. My friends are reading it now.”
    “Dinnae encourage her, Captain, she is a bluestocking of the worst order. Faither and I despair she will ever find a husband now she is well and truly on the shelf.” Beathan gave his younger sister a condescending glance and turned his gaze to me. “I apologise fur my sister’s lack of decorum.”
    “Captain, let me make an apology tae ye fur my children’s behaviour. Ye might hae lived among the wild men of the America’s however our own