“What? Ye’ve never heard him?”
“Och, aye, I’ve heard him plenty of times.” Kiergan rolled his eyes. “But that doesnae mean I’m doomed to fall in love.”
“No’ doomed,” Alistair corrected, in too good a mood to allow his brother to get away without teasing him. “Doooooomed.”
Kiergan’s sigh was overly dramatic. “So this is it, then? Ye’ve fallen as well? Just like the rest of them?” He nodded forlornly at Duncan, Rocque and Malcolm spinning their wives and laughing, while Finn and Fiona—who still looked a bit green from what was apparently all-day sickness—swayed together at the edge of the crowd. “I thought the two of us would grow auld together, just two bachelors—”
“Eh, keep yer guilt to yerself, ye son of a diseased frog.”
“We’re brothers,” Kiergan pointed out, unhelpfully.
“Huh?”
Alistair’s twin smiled. “If I’m the son of a diseased frog, what does that make ye?”
Scowling, Alistair knocked his shoulder against his twin. “Shut yer mouth.”
“Another son of a diseased frog, I’ll—”
“Shut up!” growled Alistair.
His brother just chuckled. “I am pleased for ye, ye ken. Lara’s a good lass.”
“Aye, she is.” Alistair’s eyes swept the crowd, knowing she’d been playing with Evelinde’s younger son moments ago. Ah, there she was, still holding the boy and speaking with his brother, Liam. “I’m lucky to have found her.”
Kiergan snorted. “She found ye.”
“True.” Lara had been here the whole time, right under his nose. “I was just too wrapped up in my work to really see her.”
His twin was quiet for a moment. Then, “And now that ye have?”
Alistair blew out a breath, then smiled a little ruefully. “I’m sorry it took me so long. She’s beautiful, aye, but she’s warm and caring and makes me want to be a better man. I feel better than I have in years.”
“Och, ‘tis just because I’ve taken over the correspondence for ye. Less for ye to do, ye ken.”
Alistair shrugged. “Aye, that might be part of it.” The other was the memory of sinking into Lara’s softness, of allowing someone else to be in command for a bit. “I’m happy.”
“What are ye clot-heids doing, standing over here by yerselves?”
Aunt Agatha’s shrill question broke through the twins’ seriousness, and they turned in unison to find the old woman scowling at them from Father Ambrose’s arm.
“Dear aunt!” Kiergan offered a formal bow which had the old woman’s eyes twinkling, even though her frown turned fiercer. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
She knocked her cane against the priest’s leg, and he winced and gingerly side-stepped. “I got lonely sitting over there and waiting for one of ye young idiots to come entertain me. So I had to flag down this laddie to bring me over to ye!”
The laddie, who had to be as old as Da, merely nodded in agreement. “I was honored to escort Lady Agatha around the celebration. For as the Lord tells us, we can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”
“Bah,” interrupted Agatha. “Why in damnation would I want to catch flies?”
“Ye dinnae catch flies, Aunt Agatha?” interrupted Kiergan. “Why no’? Where else do ye get yer milk?”
“Ye get milk from flies?” Father Ambrose frowned.
And Kiergan, obviously thrilled to have finally confused the confusing priest, beamed. “Aye! Ye mash ‘em up with a pestle, then soak ‘em in whiskey.”
When the others scowled, their great-aunt rolled her eyes. “Verra funny. Now, tell me what the two of ye were over here talking about so seriously, and dinnae think to distract me with yer silliness.” She jabbed her cane at Father Ambrose. “Or any more of yer foolish holy talk.”
The priest grabbed his chest. “Ye call my lessons foolish?”
“I’m an auld woman—I can say what I like. And aye, I verra much doubt it says anywhere in the Bible, ‘Ye cannae eat soup with yer hands,’ which is what ye spouted to me yesterday.”
Father Ambrose winked. “Nay, but ‘tis a good lesson, aye?”
Before the two of them could get into it any further, Alistair interrupted. “I was just telling Kiergan how happy I am now that I’ve found Lara—”
“She found ye, laddie,” his great-aunt corrected. “She had to beat ye over the head with her feelings before ye could recognize them, eh?”
Alistair grinned ruefully. “Aye, something like that. And Kiergan was just telling me how he’s heard the drummer many times, but doesnae believe it means he’ll find love.”
Mayhap ‘twas cruel to throw his brother to the wolves like that, but Kiergan likely deserved it. His twin threw his hands up, palm-out, in front of him when Agatha whirled on him. “Och, nay, dinnae start on me!”
“Dinnae dare speak to yer elders that way, ye clot-heid!” Aunt Agatha aimed a whack at Kiergan’s knees with her cane, and the younger man dodged it. “The drummer is naught to joke about. If ye heard him, ye’ll find yer love!”
“Why?” Kiergan dared to ask. “Ye’ve heard him plenty of times.”
“Aye, and what I choose to do in my private time is none of yer business!”
Alistair smiled. “Mayhap, when we set out to find Kiergan a bride, we should look for one with a spry father.”
“Grandfather,” Father Ambrose corrected.
“Aye,” Alistair said somberly as he nodded, “grandfather.”
Agatha scowled at both of them. “If Kiergan’s bride has a handsome unmarried brother, I could teach him a thing or two.”
“Ye dinnae think he might be a little young for ye, Aunt Agatha?” Alistair was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
“Kiergan’s bride—”
“Wait!” Kiergan roared, finally stepping forward, but keeping out of the path of Agatha’s cane. “Kiergan doesn’t have a bride! Kiergan has nae intention of getting married!”
While Alistair finally gave in to his humor and grinned, Agatha shook her head. “Ye’ve heard the drummer, laddie. Just accept the inevitable.”
“Aye,” drawled Father Ambrose, “for does the Holy Scriptures no’ tell us there is more than one way to skin a cat?”
“What?” bleated—and aye, ‘twas definitely a bleat—Kiergan. “What! Why in the hell would I want to skin a cat?”
“And where are ye getting yer Biblical knowledge, exactly, Father?” Alistair raised a brow, but the priest just smiled.
Kiergan scoffed and shook his head. “Alistair is just trying to get me in trouble since he’s still upset I refused to woo a wife for him.”
Shaking his head, Alistair drawled, “Nay. Because if ye had given in, I wouldnae have Lara now.”
“Why in damnation do ye think I refused?” Kiergan sounded exasperated.
Before Alistair could respond, he felt a pair of hands wrap around his forearm and turned to smile down at Lara.
“Good eve, everyone. Father Ambrose, Lady Agatha.” She offered a cheerful smile and nod.