Stewart had never been so vexed with a squire as he was with Gavin. The boy delayed over every detail and lagged so far behind Stewart and Hamish that there could be no doubt that he did as much on purpose. Stewart’s ire rose steadily as they rode west from Kinfairlie forest, but he was determined to not grant the lad the attention he evidently sought.
That resolve lasted until Stewart heard the whistle from Queensferry, when they were yet far from the dock.
“For the love of God,” Stewart declared. “What ails you, lad, that you would be so determined to earn a lashing?”
“’Tis not for the love of God, but for the love of my lord Murdoch,” the boy snapped in reply, his defiance making Stewart yearn to cuff him. “My lord Murdoch is a man unafraid to fight for what he desires, a man unafrai
