"Since he'll not tell ye, I will. He's two, come last August. And if you're bright enough to count—which I take leave to doubt—you'll see he was conceived six months past the time I last saw yon Randall, which was in our own dooryard, beating the living daylight out of my brother with a saber."
"That's so, is it?" Jamie glowered at his sister. "I've heard a bit differently. It's common knowledge you've taken the man to your bed; not the once, but as your lover. That child's his." He nodded contemptuously at his namesake, who had turned to peer under his mother's chin at this big, loud stranger. "I believe ye when ye say the new bastard you're carrying is not; Randall was in France 'til this March. So you're not only a whore, but an unchoosy one too. Who fathered this last devil's-spawn on ye?"
The tall young man beside me coughed apologetically, breaking the tension in the room.
"I did," he said mildly. "That one too." Advancing stiffly on his wooden leg, he took the little boy from his fuming wife and set him in the crook of his arm. "Favors me a bit, some say."
In fact, seen side by side, the faces of man and boy were nearly identical, allowing for the round cheeks of the one and the crooked nose of the other. The same high brow and narrow lips. The same feathery brows arched over the same deep, liquid-brown eyes. Jamie, staring at the pair of them, looked rather as though he'd been hit in the small of the back with a sandbag. He closed his mouth and swallowed once, clearly having no idea what to do next.
"Ian," he said, a little weakly. "You're married, then?"
"Oh, aye," his brother-in-law said cheerfully. "Wouldn't do, otherwise, would it?"
"I see," Jamie murmured. He cleared his throat and bobbed his head at his newly discovered brother-in-law. "It's, er, it's kind of ye, Ian. To take her, I mean. Most kind."
Feeling that he might be in need of some moral support at this point, I moved to Jamie's side, and touched his arm. His sister's eyes lingered on me speculatively, but she said nothing. Jamie looked around and seemed startled to find me there, as though he had forgotten my existence. And no wonder if he had, I thought. But he seemed relieved by the interruption, at least, and put out a hand to draw me forward.
"My wife," he said, rather abruptly. He nodded toward Jenny and Ian. "My sister, and, her, ah…" he trailed off, as Ian and I exchanged polite smiles.
Jenny was not to be distracted by social niceties.
"What d'ye mean, it's kind of him to take me?" she demanded, ignoring the introductions. "As if I didna ken!" Ian looked inquiringly at her, and she waved a disdainful hand at Jamie. "He means it was kind of ye to wed me in my soiled condition!" She gave a snort that would have done credit to someone twice her size. "Bletherer!"
"Soiled condition?" Ian looked startled, and Jamie suddenly leaned forward and grasped his sister hard about the upper arm.
"Did ye not tell him about Randall?" He sounded truly shocked. "Jenny, how could ye do such a thing?"
Only Ian's hand on Jenny's other arm restrained her from flying at her brother's throat. Ian drew her firmly behind him, and turning, set small Jamie in her arms, so that she was forced to grasp the child to save him falling. Then Ian put an arm about Jamie's shoulders and tactfully steered him a safe distance away.
"It's hardly a matter for the drawing room," he said, low-voiced and deprecating, "but ye might be interested to know that your sister was virgin on her wedding night. I was, after all, in a position to say."
Jenny's wrath was now more or less evenly divided between brother and husband.
"How dare ye to say such things in my presence, Ian Murray!?" she flamed. "Or out of it, either! My wedding night's no one's business but mine and yours—sure it's not his. Next you'll be showing him the sheets from my bridal bed!"
"Weel, if I did now, it would shut him up, no?" said Ian soothingly. "Come now, mi dhu, ye shouldna worrit yourself, it's bad for the babe. And the shouting troubles wee Jamie too." He reached out for his son, who was whimpering, not sure yet whether the situation required tears. Ian jerked his head at me and rolled an eye in Jamie's direction.
Taking my cue, I grabbed Jamie by the arm and dragged him to an armchair in a neutral corner. Ian had Jenny likewise installed on the loveseat, a firm arm across her shoulders to keep her in place.
"Now, then." In spite of his unassuming manner, Ian Murray had an undeniable authority. I had my hand on Jamie's shoulder, and could feel the tension begin to go out of it.