Loyal to the Laird at Christmas

by Fiona MacEwen

  “Tis’ the will of this clan that ye and I marry. Ye are the most eligible lass in the village, and as the betrothed of the former Laird ye have an attractiveness to ye and are well liked by ordinary folks. Ye will marry me, Isla and ye will be happy about it, ye understand?” he said.

  But she gave him no answer, and he slammed the door, turning the key in the lock and posting guards outside to ensure that no rescue attempt was made. Isla wept openly now and looked out of the window towards the high crags above. There was the place that James had fallen, and she longed for a sign, for something to tell her that all would be alright. As she watched, the clouds above parted and the sun cast its light upon the mountainside. There, shimmering in the spring sunshine was the heather, as white as snow, laid out across the moorlands like a blanket.

  “All will be well,” she whispered to herself. “I am certain of it, for ye are always with me, dear James.”

  Chapter 9

  The Reluctant Bride

  Robert Craig kept Isla locked in the turret room for the coming days. She was allowed out to take her meals with him and Hamish in the Great Hall and each morning she was permitted to take a walk around the castle gardens, watched closely by the guards. Una walked with her and it was the only time that the two women could be alone. For both Robert and Hamish feared that Isla would make any attempt she could to escape.

  But Isla had found strength in hope and she still had hope that Blayne Gordon would come to her rescue. As she watched from the turret above the courtyard, she could see the ordinary clansmen coming and going. They were dejected and miserable, overworked and unappreciated for Robert Craig never uttered a kind word to anyone. Only a small group of clansmen remained loyal to him and they ensured the rest were kept under subjugation.

  As the days went by and the day of the wedding drew closer, Isla wondered just how long it would be before Blayne arrived. Would he bring an army? Perhaps the Earl of Roxburghe would accompany him and there would be a great battle fought for the castle. It was with such hope that she carried on. A prisoner in the castle and forbidden from seeing her own parents whom Hamish assured her were being well treated, though Una described their situation in bleaker terms.

  “Tis’ a sad sight out on the farms, the ordinary folks are strugglin’ and I cannae bear to see yer poor mother and father away from their croft,” Una said, as she and Isla walked in the castle gardens on the morning before the day of the planned wedding.

  “And what of the weddin’ day, are they even permitted to attend?” Isla said, her arm in Una’s, as they passed the watchful gaze of the guards.

  “Aye, they will be there. I insisted to the Laird that they be invited. I still have some say in matters, though for how long I dinna ken,” Una replied.

  “I will nae let them send ye away, Una. I promise. If ye are forced to go then I shall tie myself to yer horse, I will nae allow it,” Isla said, her anger rising.

  She was easily angered now, her thoughts so centered upon the injustice of it all. Robert Craig had invited nobles from across Scotland to see the spectacle, aided and abetted by Hamish Mackintosh who behaved just like a Laird. Lauding it over the entire castle and issuing orders left, right and center. He grew more odious with every passing day and Isla could hardly bear to look at him, as he strutted about the place and leered over her.

  “Ye may have nay choice, lass. Tis’ Robert Craig and Hamish who make the rules in this castle now, nae ye nor I,” Una replied, pulling her shawl around her, for a cool breeze was blowing through the gardens and both women were cold.

  “Blayne will come back,” Isla said wistfully. “He was different in Edinburgh. Surer of himself, more confident. It was as though he had a new lease of life.”

  “Aye, because he was back in the south, lass. Daenae place your hopes upon him too much. The lad has a kind heart, but his home is nae here. He is nay Highlander like the menfolk of this sorry castle. His place is in the Lowlands, amongst his own people,” Una replied, shaking her head sadly.

  “I have hope that he will come,” Isla said quietly, looking down at her tunic where once again was pinned a sprig of white heather, which Una had cut for her upon the mountainside.

  The woman walked a little more in the gardens before returning inside and wishing each other a good day. Isla would not see her friend until the morning when she was dressed for the wedding. A gown had arrived, made by a local seamstress and she watched from the window as a stream of guests began arriving at the castle to witness the awful event which was about to transpire. Isla remained locked in her chambers for the rest of the day, disturbed only by Robert Craig who came to gloat later that night.

  “Yer last night as a common lass,” he said, standing in the doorway, “ye will look a bonnie bride tomorrow, I know it.”

  Isla ignored him, just as she had done every evening that he had paid her a visit. Tonight, he came into the room and closed the door, advancing upon her and taking hold of her hand.

  “Daenae touch me,” she said, turning away from him, but he caught her by the other hand and pulled her towards him.

  “Dae I nae get a kiss the night before our weddin’?” he asked, as she struggled in his grasp.

  “Get off me,” she said, and struggling from his grip she slapped him about the face, causing him to reel backwards.

  “Ye will learn obedience to me, lass. I am Laird of this castle and its master and ye will be mine, whether ye wish it or nae,” he said, holding his hand up to his reddening cheek.

  “Yers in name perhaps, but nae in heart. I couldnae ever love one like ye. Ye are nothin’ but an odious, wicked and pathetic excuse for a man. Now, get out of my sight,” she said, ready to strike him again if he came closer.

  “In name tis’ then, for ye shall be my wife. And tomorrow ye will be taught some obedience, lass,” he said.

  “Ye are a small man, and ye cannae bear the fact that I have two men worth more than a thousand of ye,” she replied, causing him to look up, a look of anger upon his face.

  “A dead man and a man who has abandoned ye out of fear? It wouldnae be hard to be worth more than them,” he said, and with that he locked her in for the night, as Isla flung herself upon the bed in tears.

  The injustice of it all, the wickedness. How she hated Robert Craig and Hamish and longed for rescue.

  “Come on Blayne, prove to me ye have what it takes,” she whispered, snuffing out the solitary candle on the table by the bed and rolling over to sleep.

  Tears ran down her cheeks, for she knew that time was short and that if Blayne did not act soon, she would soon be at the mercies of the Laird and his men. A prize that had been won with no hope for the future.

  ***

  She awoke the next morning to the sound of the castle bell. It was tolling for her and as she rose out of her dreams, she recalled the grim reality of what it was she was about to face. Today was her wedding day and there had been no rescue in the night, no welcome face at the window or assault upon the castle walls. She remained a prisoner and in just a few hours that prison would be sealed with a ring.

  Una was brought to her chambers around an hour later. She would assist her with her preparations and despite Isla’s protests it had been decreed that Hamish Mackintosh would give her away and not her father. She would see her parents for the first time that day since her arrival home and it seemed such a cruel fate that had separated them in this way.

  “I will say nothin’ of happiness on this wicked day,” Una said, as the guards opened the door.

  Isla was already dressed in her gown and she looked pretty, though without any of the radiance that one might expect from a bride on her wedding day. The gown was ivory, with lace trim, a gift from Robert Craig, though hardly a welcome one. Isla sat by the window and Una began to brush her hair, running the brush through her long curls, as the two women awaited the fate that was to be theirs.

  “The castle is already full. The pretender has invited all manner of reluctant guests. Ye ca
n see how much he is despised, but the people are terrified of him,” Una said, laying aside the brush and beginning to tie Isla’s hair into an elegant knot.

  “Why has nay one done anythin’ to stop him? He has done nothin’ but mistreat folks and yet nay one will stand up to him,” Isla said, sighing heavily.

  “Because they fear him, that’s why,” Una said, “nay one will lead them against him and so they fear him and what he might dae if they oppose him.”

  Isla made no reply. She was giving up hope in Blayne now. The chances of him riding through the gates on a white stead, his banner before him seemed more and more unlikely. It saddened her because in Edinburgh she had grown so fond of him, despite her guilt at doing so.

  As time had gone by, he had reminded her more and more of James. Though there was another side to him too which she found attractive. His quiet and studious nature, the fact that he thought things through and never rushed ahead without consideration, his gentle mannerism and resolve. All of this was attractive to her, and she had even entertained more romantic thoughts, though she had fallen short of acting upon them. She had believed Blayne to feel the same and now that it was clear he did not share such feelings she felt sad and abandoned.

  Her only friend was Una and now the two women prepared to make their way to the chapel with heavy hearts. Before them lay a sorry fate, not only for Isla, but for the whole glen. If she were married to Robert Craig, then his hold upon the people would be complete. The Mackintosh name, once so proud and noble reduced to thuggery and violence at the hands of a man who was no Laird, only a mere pretender.

  The chapel was full now, hushed voices coming from inside, as Isla and Una approached. Hamish Mackintosh was waiting outside, and he smiled a sickly smile at them and bowed.

  “Ye are lookin’ a bonnie lass today, beautiful indeed,” he said, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips.

  Isla made no reply, instead looking into the chapel where she could see Robert Craig by the altar. He was dressed in a red tunic and pinned to his front was a sprig of white heather. It brought a tear to her eye, and she swallowed hard as Hamish took her arm.

  “It will be alright, Isla. I am here, and see, there are yer parents there,” Una whispered to her, pointing to where Isla’s mother and father sat some way down the chapel.

  “Of course she will be alright,” Hamish Mackintosh said, “she is marryin’ the Laird, what young girl wouldnae be happy marryin’ into such wealth and power.”

  “She is marryin’ nay Laird, Hamish Mackintosh, only a fraud and a pretender,” Una replied.

  “And afterwards ye will be sent away, ye old witch,” Hamish hissed at her, as the piper began to play.

  Isla took a deep breath. Her feet did not wish to move, but Hamish pulled her on, his grip strong around her arm. All eyes now turned to face her, as together they made their way down the aisle. As they passed her parents, her mother held out her hand with tears in her eyes. Isla paused as Hamish pulled at her arm.

  “Leave yer mother, lass. Tis’ a new family ye come to now,” he said, but Isla shook him off and embraced her mother, as tears ran down her cheeks.

  “It’ll be alright, Isla. I promise ye, daenae be afraid, ye are loved, remember that,” her mother said, as Hamish pulled her on down the aisle.

  “How very touchin’ but just remember that ye are the Laird’s now,” he said, as they came to the altar.

  The old priest from the village was standing nervously at the altar and Robert Craig turned to Isla, looking her up and down and nodding.

  “Ye look pretty, Isla. Very pretty. Ye will make a fine bride,” he said, as Hamish handed her over to him.

  “I am nay bride of yers, only an unwilling partaker in a wickedness,” she replied, as the priest took a deep breath and addressed the congregation, glancing nervously at Robert Craig who nodded for him to continue.

  “We have gathered here in the sight of God to see these two people wedded. Robert and Isla today proclaim their vows before ye all and come to know the joys of union, a union of love blessed by God. They will exchange vows and a ring as a symbol of their love for one another, a reminder of the love which Christ has for his bride the Church of which each of us is part.”

  His words went on for some time and Isla could think only of her dear James, his tomb visible to her by the altar. How angry he would be if he could see the treachery to which she was now subjected and how he would wreak a terrible revenge upon Robert and Hamish if he were here to dae so.

  “I dae,” Robert Craig said, startling her from her musings, as the priest turned to ask her for her assent to the marriage.

  But as he did so and before she could make any answer, a commotion erupted at the back of the chapel. She turned in surprise and delight to see a familiar figure striding down the aisle with his sword drawn and a noble look about him. It was Blayne, though he appeared no longer as the shy and timid man who had first come to the Highland glen but now as a Laird, a warrior intent upon his rightful claim.

  “She assents to nothin’ now let her go and step aside,” Blayne said, as Robert drew his sword and Hamish leaped forward.

  But Blayne was ready for him and he knocked the clansmen to one side, sending him sprawling to the ground.

  “Get out of here,” Robert Craig cried, “have this man taken to the dungeons immediately.”

  But to his surprise, no one stepped forward and Blayne stood defiantly before him, his sword raised.

  “I am here to make my rightful claim to this clan and to the inheritance which is mine. Ye are nothin’ but a usurper and a pretender and ye have mistreated these good folks for long enough. Stand aside and allow Isla her freedom for she will nae marry ye this day,” he said.

  The transformation was astonishing, and Isla looked on in amazement as Blayne faced down Robert Craig who now drew his sword.

  “Ye have nay claim upon this castle or this title. I am Laird and ye will be sent back to the south where ye belong and if ye daenae leave, I will run ye through, as God is my witness,” Robert said, lunging forward with his sword.

  “Ye are nae our rightful Laird,” a voice from the congregation cried, it was Isla’s father and others now joined him as with one voice the people rose against their master.

  Hamish Mackintosh had now regained his feet, but several of the clansmen grabbed him and pulled him from the chapel. Just as several of the guards arrived, still loyal to Robert Craig. But they too were soon subdued, and it remained only for Blayne and the pretender to face one another, as Isla looked on in horror and amazement.

  “Ye have nay support now, surrender and be banished,” Blayne said, as Robert lunged forward again, his sword easily deflected by Blayne’s retort.

  “I will nae be beaten by a man like ye,” he replied, “go back to where ye came from.”

  But it was clear that Blayne was in no mood to back down and he charged forward, swinging his sword from side to side and forcing Robert backwards.

  “Tis’ ye who will go back to where ye came from, ye pretender,” Blayne said, and he raised his sword, bringing it down hard upon Robert’s arm, as he let out a cry and fell backwards.

  His sword flew from his arm and it was Una who rushed to pick it up, pointing it towards him, as Blayne backed him into a corner.

  “Ye were going to send me away and mistreat this poor lass, my friend. Ye have destroyed what my dear husband and son worked so hard to build and brought dishonor to the name of Mackintosh. I should run ye through now, lad,” she said, the sword now pressed close to Robert’s neck, “but that would make me nay better than ye and so I say that ye should leave this place immediately, leave and never return again.”

  “Go, before I show ye less mercy than this good woman has done,” Blayne said, pointing to the door.

  Robert Craig cursed at him, but he knew he was beaten. His arm was badly bleeding, and he scrambled up, pushing his way through the jostling crowd and out of the door. A cheer went up from the congregation and Bl
ayne sheathed his sword before turning to them all and calling for quiet.

  “My dear friends, when first I came here I did so as a timid lamb, a man with nay right to call himself yer Laird because I did nae understand yer ways. Tis’ nay surprise then that some took advantage of that fact and sought to drive me away, but the man who did so has mistreated ye, taken yer lands and forced ye to work like slaves, whilst he grew rich upon your labors. Nay longer will that be the case and if ye will allow me to take my place as yer Laird once more then I promise that I will change my ways. I will dae so because I have been shown a better way,” he said, turning to Isla, who smiled.

  “Tis’ thanks to this lass that I have discovered the true man within me. She has shown me nae only the ways of a Laird but also the heart of a Laird. She is bold and courageous, darin’ and brave. She has the heart of a brave and noble warrior and I am honored to have come to know her. When I heard of the treachery to be enacted against her I couldnae stand idly by and allow it to happen and that is why I have returned here today. But there is another reason too, and this is that durin’ our time in Edinburgh I came to see her as more than a friend, I came to love her too.”

  A gasp now went up around the chapel and the clansmen at the back strained their necks, as Blayne Gordon now kneeled before Isla and taking out his sword he held it up.

  “I will never be James Mackintosh and I still have much to learn about becoming a Laird,” he said, as she looked down at him and smiled. “My home is nae here, but my heart is and tis’ with my heart that I belong. Ye have filled me heart, Isla and when ye were taken from me I did nae know what to dae. But it was my heart that told me, and I knew I must risk everythin’ and dae whatever it takes to rescue ye. Now, I have a question for ye, will ye marry me?”

  Isla gasped and clutched her hands to her face. He looked up at her with imploring eyes, his sword lying flat, as he held it aloft and smiled at her. She swallowed, a lump rising in her throat, as tears welled up in her eyes. But they were not tears of sadness but of joy, and she felt a sudden sense of release from all the sorrow and emotion of the past. It was as though James’s memory was releasing her from the prison in which she had placed herself and she kneeled before him, a smile spreading across her face.