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delayed
me, I assure you.'
    'Aye.
Well, there's matters o' sufficient import amiss for you, here in
this Scotland, man. For any man! You've come home to trouble, see
you."
    'So
I have heard. On all hands.' He shrugged, ruefully. 'And, I vow, you
might think it all my doing,
from the way it is laid on me! But ... of that later.' Montrose looked round at all the assembled company,
and made a comprehensive bow, flourish of his plumed hat, and
friendly smile. 'My salutations to you all,' he called. 'It is good
to see you again. I am glad to be back. My thanks for your reception
of me. Hereafter I shall speak with you all. But meanwhile, my
lady-wife demands her errant lord's attention -and merits it, you
will concede! You will bear with us?'
    It
was superbly done, with assurance, simplicity, courtesy yet
authority, such as the James Graham who had departed three years
before could never have achieved. It took charge of the situation for
them all, even for old Southesk, his Countess and his son. An
Greumach Mor, , Earl
of Montrose, was now to be permitted to greet his wife with some
measure of privacy. None found cause for complaint or discomfort
    None,
that is, save perhaps for the Lady Magdalen Carnegie herself. Always
a shy and retiring creature, she was apparendy quite overwhelmed by
this handsome, self-possessed, almost commanding presence that had
come back to her after so long. Almost in a panic she bit her lip,
clutching the toddler to her knees, all but shrinking back as
Montrose came forward to her, eyes darting towards her father,
her brother, even her small son, to anyone, for aid.
    Her
husband saw it, and understood, at least partially. He turned to
young Johnnie, hand out, and together they moved up to the woman.
    'My
dear,' he said gendy, 'this young man has already conveyed to me your
greetings and welcome. Most worthily. How fine a son you have bred
for me. I am grateful - from my heart I am. And here - here is
another, on my soul! Another good Graham for Scotland!'
    That
saved her. 'Yes. Yes, this is Jamie, my lord.' She was constrained to
stoop, and make a great fuss of picking up the little one in her
arms, and so could face her husband with the child as a sort of
buffer. 'Is ... is he not a fine lad? And like you, a little. Like you . . . you
were.' She gulped. 'Not now - but were. Your nose. I am sure that he
has your nose. So, so long. No, no - not too long. But. . . your
nose. And mouth. Yes, your mouth also. Jamie — he is strong.
Stronger than Johnnie. Oh, Johnnie is stronger now. But as a bairn.
When you left, Johnnie was not strong. You remember that I ... I ... 1 She was gabbling. And realising it only too clearly, abruptly stopped
and became unutterably silent.
    He
nodded gravely. "Yes, indeed. That I remember well. Which makes
it all die better that you have made of Johnnie so much the man.' He
patted his heir on the head, and reached out to take the younger
child from her. 'So this is the second James Graham 1 We
will have to learn to know each other, he and I. But you will teach
us.' He felt down with his other hand, and raised hers to his lips.
"You have much to teach me, my dear.'
    She
did not answer, but something of the panic had left her. She was able
to slip that kissed hand under his arm, to take her elder son by the
elbow, and so face all the chattering throng, after a fashion,
Magdalen, Countess of Montrose with her man and bairns. They bowed,
left and right, moving towards the keep doorway.
    It
was long, however, before they could be alone together — nor,
indeed, were either of them over-eager for that moment. It was
Southesk's house, and as well as much eating and drinking to see to,
he had bones to pick with young Montrose, with his son, with his
brother Sir John Carnegie, who presently arrived from Ethie Castle to
the south. David Carnegie was a great picker of bones - which perhaps
partly accounted for his youngest daughter's chronic distrust of
herself. At any rate, he kept