The Prodigal Son by Anna Belfrage Read Free Book Online Page A

answered.”
    Mark hunched together at the tone, but remained silent.
    “So why did he hit you?” Matthew swung so suddenly in the direction of Ian that the lad overbalanced, sitting down in the hay.
    “I don’t know,” Ian muttered. “He just did.”
    “Ah,” Matthew looked him over. “Do you often hit bairns half your size?”
    No, his nephew slash son told him, no he didn’t.
    “But now you did. You walloped your wee cousin and you have no idea why he hit you in the first place.”
    Ian scrambled to his feet but restricted himself to a slight nod; if Mark wasn’t talking, nor was Ian.
    “Well then, it seems you must both be punished.”
    Rachel opened her mouth, but Matthew put a firm finger on her lips.
    “Nay, Rachel. You say nothing.”
    Rachel glowered at her cousin, going over to stand by her brother, her small hand sneaking into his.
    “Both of you; go inside and undress, and then you’ll say your prayers and go to bed. No supper.” With an internal sigh he watched them troop off, all three of them, in the direction of the house.
    In a gesture of solidarity with her brother, Rachel had also abstained from supper, and after a quiet meal Alex took Jacob upstairs. Given the way her apron pockets bulged she was intending to feed the lads – and Rachel – but Matthew chose to pretend he didn’t notice. Instead he accompanied Joan into the parlour, giving her a brief version of the events in the hayloft.
    “What can I say?” Matthew made a helpless gesture. “I can’t refute that I sliced off Luke’s nose, and I can’t explain why without telling him the full sorry tale, can I?”
    Joan patted his hand. “No you can’t – not yet. But one day he’ll start thinking for himself and then he’ll come to you with questions.”
    “And I won’t be able to reply,” Matthew said. “I’ve promised Alex that I’ll never tell him that he’s my son. I…” he broke off as Alex entered the room, carrying a tray with three steaming mugs.
    “You what?” Alex said, setting the tray down on the table and finding herself a stool.
    “I was just wondering if Joan will burst apart before the wean shows.” Matthew smiled at his sister.
    “Huh,” Joan straightened her back with an audible pop. “It’s already well over a week late. Now it best stay inside until Simon returns.” She patted herself. “You hear? You stay there, aye? One more week.”
    “You best do as your mother says,” Matthew said, placing his hand on the bulge. “You don’t want her mad at you from the start.”
    “No, time enough for that later,” Alex snorted.
    Ian was not overly thrilled when his uncle took to taking him everywhere with him. From early morning to late afternoon, he tagged after his uncle, doing one task after the other as he was bid. At first he went with rancour at being used like a yard boy, but with each passing day he softened towards Uncle Matthew, and found himself talking to him, almost as much as he did with Mam. His uncle was a good listener, interjecting the odd little exclamation, even laughing out loud at some of Ian’s stories from London.
    “A monkey?” he chortled. “And it ate at the table like a man?”
    Ian grimaced; the visiting young Earl of Rochester’s monkey had eaten on the table, not at it, making Mam look at it as if she considered poisoning it.
    “The king says it’s a wee pest. It even bit one of the ladies once.”
    “Have you met the king?” Uncle Matthew sounded unimpressed. Ian threw him a cautious look. As he heard it, the king was mightily unpopular here due to religious issues, and from the look on his uncle’s face, Charles Stuart was not one of his personal favourites.
    “I see him now and then about court, but I’ve only met him properly once. It was at his coronation and I was not yet seven.”
    He remembered that April day for an entirely different reason. It was the day that he had first heard his parents quarrel and he had cowered under his bed as his