the road.’
Nell was lying curled up, whimpering in pain. Her face was white and icy cold. Her dress and hair were saturated.
Alexander Mackenzie leapt from his horse.
‘Och, my darling, what have you done?’ he whispered softly.
He felt her forehead and ran his hands over her arms and legs, gently feeling for damage. He tenderly lifted her head and removed the petticoat pillow.
‘Duncan, do you have your knife?’
‘Aye, my laird.’
He used the knife to cut the petticoat into a wide strip to make a sling to immobilise Nell’s arm.
Nell winced and shuddered but barely opened her eyes. As her father removed his jacket and covered her, Duncan quickly followed with his rough wool coat.
Charlotte shivered with wet and cold and anxiety. A trickle of water ran into her collar and down her spine.
‘Papa, will Nell be all right?’ she asked tremulously.
‘I think she will survive,’ he reassured her. ‘Let us get her back home and in front of the fire.’
Laird Mackenzie carefully gathered Nell up into his arms, avoiding her injured side, and strode off towards the road, followed by the subdued and damp riders. They were soon met by Angus bringing the carriage.
While Laird Mackenzie and Duncan struggled to make Nell comfortable, Charlotte went to stand by Angus, burying her cold, wet fingers in the carriage horse’s mane.
‘Is Bess all right, Angus?’ Charlotte asked in a small voice.
‘Aye, but ’tis a wonder she was no’ hurt as well,’ Angus muttered. ‘What were ye lassies thinking? And more than likely ’twill be me that gets a licking o’er your antics, no’ ye.’
Charlotte looked at him imploringly, her eyes wide with shock.
‘I am sorry, Angus. I did not mean for you to be in trouble.’
‘Och, Miss Charlotte,’ he whispered. ‘I were only jesting. Do no’ fret, lassie, Miss Eleanor will be fine, ye’ll see.’
Laird Mackenzie called to Charlotte impatiently from the carriage, cradling Nell’s head in his lap. Charlotte scrambled into the vehicle beside him.
‘I am very sorry, Papa,’ Charlotte cried impetuously, clutching her father’s sleeve with both hands. ‘I did not mean for Nell to be injured; and please, please do not punish Angus. He did not know we were going riding. We crept out while he was wheeling the stable waste out to the kitchen garden.’
Laird Mackenzie gazed carefully at his eldest child. He loved her dearly but was sorely worried by her mischievous streak.
‘I should punish Angus with a good lashing,’ Laird Mackenzie declared. ‘One of Angus’s jobs is to look after you girls while you go out riding so that you are safe. A thrashing will teach him to remember his responsibilities; and his punishment will remind you to behave as befits your rank.’
Charlotte sobbed, her face pale and streaked with tears.
‘Please, no, Papa,’ Charlotte begged. ‘I promise we will never ride out without Angus again.’
‘You are not a crofter’s urchin,’ Laird Mackenzie continued sternly. ‘You are a Mackenzie of Dungorm, and that role brings with it much responsibility. We must look after every person, every animal, every plant and every clod of earth upon this land.’
Charlotte nodded slowly, her face grave.
‘I think it is time you learnt about this responsibility,’ Laird Mackenzie added. ‘Tomorrow you can ride with me around the estate to study what is required of the Mackenzies of Dungorm.’
‘Yes, Papa,’ murmured Charlotte, her eyes aglow with pleasure at the thought of riding with her beloved papa. ‘But what about Angus?’
Laird Mackenzie pulled her to him and kissed her forehead gently. ‘Angus will suffer a severe tongue lashing from Duncan, but I trust he will not be harmed.’
Soon after, the carriage trundled into the stable courtyard with Nell inside, wrapped in blankets and held in her father’s arms, with Charlotte huddled next to them. The grooms led Rosie and the laird’s tall hunter. A flurry of activity greeted
Nell was lying curled up, whimpering in pain. Her face was white and icy cold. Her dress and hair were saturated.
Alexander Mackenzie leapt from his horse.
‘Och, my darling, what have you done?’ he whispered softly.
He felt her forehead and ran his hands over her arms and legs, gently feeling for damage. He tenderly lifted her head and removed the petticoat pillow.
‘Duncan, do you have your knife?’
‘Aye, my laird.’
He used the knife to cut the petticoat into a wide strip to make a sling to immobilise Nell’s arm.
Nell winced and shuddered but barely opened her eyes. As her father removed his jacket and covered her, Duncan quickly followed with his rough wool coat.
Charlotte shivered with wet and cold and anxiety. A trickle of water ran into her collar and down her spine.
‘Papa, will Nell be all right?’ she asked tremulously.
‘I think she will survive,’ he reassured her. ‘Let us get her back home and in front of the fire.’
Laird Mackenzie carefully gathered Nell up into his arms, avoiding her injured side, and strode off towards the road, followed by the subdued and damp riders. They were soon met by Angus bringing the carriage.
While Laird Mackenzie and Duncan struggled to make Nell comfortable, Charlotte went to stand by Angus, burying her cold, wet fingers in the carriage horse’s mane.
‘Is Bess all right, Angus?’ Charlotte asked in a small voice.
‘Aye, but ’tis a wonder she was no’ hurt as well,’ Angus muttered. ‘What were ye lassies thinking? And more than likely ’twill be me that gets a licking o’er your antics, no’ ye.’
Charlotte looked at him imploringly, her eyes wide with shock.
‘I am sorry, Angus. I did not mean for you to be in trouble.’
‘Och, Miss Charlotte,’ he whispered. ‘I were only jesting. Do no’ fret, lassie, Miss Eleanor will be fine, ye’ll see.’
Laird Mackenzie called to Charlotte impatiently from the carriage, cradling Nell’s head in his lap. Charlotte scrambled into the vehicle beside him.
‘I am very sorry, Papa,’ Charlotte cried impetuously, clutching her father’s sleeve with both hands. ‘I did not mean for Nell to be injured; and please, please do not punish Angus. He did not know we were going riding. We crept out while he was wheeling the stable waste out to the kitchen garden.’
Laird Mackenzie gazed carefully at his eldest child. He loved her dearly but was sorely worried by her mischievous streak.
‘I should punish Angus with a good lashing,’ Laird Mackenzie declared. ‘One of Angus’s jobs is to look after you girls while you go out riding so that you are safe. A thrashing will teach him to remember his responsibilities; and his punishment will remind you to behave as befits your rank.’
Charlotte sobbed, her face pale and streaked with tears.
‘Please, no, Papa,’ Charlotte begged. ‘I promise we will never ride out without Angus again.’
‘You are not a crofter’s urchin,’ Laird Mackenzie continued sternly. ‘You are a Mackenzie of Dungorm, and that role brings with it much responsibility. We must look after every person, every animal, every plant and every clod of earth upon this land.’
Charlotte nodded slowly, her face grave.
‘I think it is time you learnt about this responsibility,’ Laird Mackenzie added. ‘Tomorrow you can ride with me around the estate to study what is required of the Mackenzies of Dungorm.’
‘Yes, Papa,’ murmured Charlotte, her eyes aglow with pleasure at the thought of riding with her beloved papa. ‘But what about Angus?’
Laird Mackenzie pulled her to him and kissed her forehead gently. ‘Angus will suffer a severe tongue lashing from Duncan, but I trust he will not be harmed.’
Soon after, the carriage trundled into the stable courtyard with Nell inside, wrapped in blankets and held in her father’s arms, with Charlotte huddled next to them. The grooms led Rosie and the laird’s tall hunter. A flurry of activity greeted