Whence Came a Prince Read Free Page B

Jamie watched the man attempt to mask his elation. “Rose tells me ’twill be January before the babe arrives, though one can never be certain. The Lord alone kens the hour.”
    “Indeed he does.” Lachlan folded his hands over his stomach. “Are you thinking this child of yours should be born at Glentrool?”
    Jamie seized the opportunity to present his case. “ ’Tis high time I headed for home.” His heart quickening, he pressed further. “And once the lambs are sold, ’tis time you paid me my wages, Uncle. My growing family must be provided for. Even you cannot deny the work I’ve done for you.”
    “Impatience doesn’t become you, Jamie.” His uncle wagged a finger at him, as though reprimanding a child. “The laird of Glentrool may be auld, but Alec McKie has yet to lay
doon
in his grave.”
    Jamie winced at the image. Please God, many years would pass before he saw a headstone raised over his father. “I meant only that my sire has need of me, for his flocks have grown in number just as yours have. I have served you long enough, Uncle. My wife and I will leave at Lammas.”
    “Ah, Lammas. When all of Scotland celebrates the bountiful harvest.” Lachlan was practically beaming. “The
verra
date I’d chosen. ’Tis a sign.”
    A sign?
Jamie knew Lachlan was a superstitious sort, despite the man’s allegiance to the kirk. Lachlan insisted Neda cut every loaf of bread into three
farles
for luck, took care not to wear red and green together lest he suffer misfortune, and slept with his head to the east in the belief it would bring him riches. After waiting for an explanation, Jamie prompted him. “A sign of what, Uncle?”
    “Providence.” Lachlan’s gray eyes were clear. Guileless. “I’ve come to realize the Almighty has blessed my lands because of you, Nephew.”
    Jamie’s mouth fell open. Never in all their dealings had the older man spoken so generously.
    With a look of satisfaction, Lachlan splayed his blunt fingers and set to counting. “Since coming to Auchengray, you worked a full month without asking for a shilling, then labored for Rose’s hand in marriage seven weeks, then seven months, aye? After that you served as husband to the ewes, choosing the
tups
and seeing the woolly lasses both bred and delivered of twins. Even Reverend Gordon sang your praises from the pulpit. Yet here you sit without
twa
coins to rub together.” Lachlan reached across the corner of the table and clapped his hand on Jamie’s shoulder, squeezing hard. “The hand of God is on you, James.”
    Jamie was so taken aback, his tongue felt glued to his teeth. “Sir, I … I am blessed … blessed to hear you say …”
    “And you’ve blessed me.” Lachlan released his grip on Jamie with a final squeeze, then stood. “I intend to sell the lambs at the Lammas Fair in Lockerbie, where they’ll fetch a fine price.”
    Jamie watched Lachlan glance toward the spence, the room that served as his uncle’s study and bedroom and contained all the man held dear—in particular, his wooden
thrifite
full of coins and bank notes. Lachlan’s eyes then focused on Jamie, gleaming like the contents of his money box. “When you leave for Glentrool in August, I’ll see your pockets full of silver.”
    Jamie stared at him, incredulous. Lachlan had accepted his departure plans so readily. Could the man’s words be sincere? “I have worked hard for you, Uncle,” he said slowly. “The proof is spread across your hills and glens.”
    “Then what shall I give you, lad? Name your price, and I will pay it.”
    All at once Jamie realized the truth: He did not want the coins his lambs would earn at Lockerbie; he wanted the lambs themselves. A seed of an idea that Duncan Hastings, the overseer of Auchengray, had once planted in his mind suddenly took root.
A plan tae see ye get half o’ the lambs, seein’ as they’re all twins.
Just the thought of it made Jamie’s pulse race. He would herd his share of the lambs to