Conran considered the request briefly, and then said, “Well, Aulay is the eldest. He runs Buchanan and our people.”
Evina nodded, and asked, “His scar? Was he injured as a child?”
“Nay. As an adult. In battle some years back,” he said quietly, and then added, “We lost our brother Ewan in the same battle. He was Aulay’s twin, born just minutes after him.”
“That must have been hard for him,” Evina murmured.
“Aye,” Conran agreed solemnly, and then cleared his throat and continued, “And then there is the second oldest of us, Dougall. He’s much like Aulay in temperament, stern and no’ much o’ a talker. But he has a way with horses, and bred and raised them ere meeting his wife, Murine. He still does despite being laird of Carmichael now.”
“I’ve heard of his horses. They are supposed to be the best in Scotland.”
“Aye, they’re fine beasts,” Conran assured her, and then continued. “Niels is the next oldest. His interest was in sheep and wool ere he met and married Edith Drummond.”
“And does he still raise sheep and make wool despite marriage to Edith?” Evina asked before sliding a bit of chicken into her mouth.
“Only for the people of Drummond,” Conran said with a smile. “He moved his sheep there and has fresh plaids made for every member of Drummond twice a year.”
Swallowing the food in her mouth, Evina said with approval, “That’s kind of him.”
“Aye. Especially considering the coin he could get selling the wool elsewhere,” Conran said seriously.
Smiling faintly, Evina asked, “And who is the next oldest?”
“Me,” Conran admitted wryly. “And before ye ask, I’ve no special skills. I do no’ have a way with horses or sheep or any other beastie.”
“But ye’re a fine hand at healing,” Evina pointed out. He was the one who had healed her father and tended her own wound, and had done a fine job at both.
“Nay. Rory is the healer. I just picked up a thing or two from helping him. Just as I learned a bit about horses from helping Dougall, and about sheep from helping Niels.” He shrugged. “I ken a bit about many subjects.”
“Which would make ye a good laird,” Evina murmured thoughtfully. For a laird who had wide and varied skills and knowledge was surely better than one who knew only how to run a keep.
“Mayhap,” Conran said with a shrug, and then asked, “Would ye like more? Are ye still hungry?”
Evina glanced down at her trencher, surprised to find it was empty. The short walk to the table had apparently done her appetite good at least. Hopefully it was the first step in rebuilding her strength too, she thought as she shook her head, and murmured, “No, thank ye.”
Nodding, Conran took her trencher and set it back on the tray with his own. He then picked up the tray and headed for the door to set it out in the hall for one of the maids to get without disturbing them, and asked, “Would ye like to play a game at the table? Or return to yer bed now?”
Evina hesitated. She was feeling a little tired now that she’d eaten, but wasn’t eager to return to her bed, so in the end said, “Here is fine,” as he returned to the table.
Conran merely nodded and settled in his seat, but then glanced around and suggested, “Or we could sit on the fur in front of the fireplace. We could even have a small fire if ye like. There is a chill in the air tonight. I think a storm is coming down from the north.”
“That might be nice,” Evina said, glancing toward the fireplace. She’d noticed it was a touch chilly, but had assumed it was just her, something to do with her still recovering from her injury.
Conran was up at once and moving to start a small fire, and it was indeed small, a couple of logs and a few leaves to start it. While he was busy with that, Evina stood and moved the few feet to the fur, relieved when she managed to get there without becoming more than a little breathy.
“Here.”
She glanced to him with surprise when he was suddenly beside her, offering his hand to aid her in lowering herself to the fur.
“Thank ye,” Evina breathed as she arranged the plaid she’d wrapped around her shoulders cape-style so that it covered her properly.
“What would ye like to play tonight?” Conran asked, still standing.
“Whatever ye wish,” she decided, not really caring