by Fiona Faris
“Och, man! Must ye be so loud,” Finlay groaned, holding a hand to his head.
“Had a good time last night, did ye?” Malcolm asked grinning. He robustly slapped Finlay on the back, jarring him from his head to his toes.
“Aye,” Finlay grumbled in reply. “I made the mistake of challengin’ Fergus to a drinkin’ contest.”
“Ye legless bampot. Only a dobber would be so daft as tae challenge auld Fergus tae anythin’. The man could drink God under the table and still walk away fightin’ fit,” Malcolm laughed at Finlay’s apparent lack of judgement.
“Aye, ye are nae wrong,” Finlay confirmed, squinting his eyes against the light streaming in through the dining room windows. “Can we nae cover the walls with a darker color than that green. ‘Tis bright as the light itself,” he moaned, cradling his head once more.
“Nae, we cannae. Perhaps ye could drink less?” Freya answered.
“Och, nae. Death will seek me first,” Finlay retorted.
“It will if ye keep drinkin’ with Fergus,” Malcolm teased.
“Ne’er again,” Finlay promised.
“We will be gatherin’ the rents today before the clan disbands tae return tae their homes. Ye had best dunk yer head in the river tae sober up. Ye remember what happened last year?” Malcolm shook his head in amusement as he pulled out a chair for Alana to sit down at the table, then sat down in the seat beside her.
“Aye, who could forget?” Finlay answered from between his fingers.
Freya turned to Alana to explain what her sons were talking about. “Last year one o’ the farmers brought a goat as payment, which is nae unusual. Another farmer had brought a sow and her piglets tae make up for several years back rent. We dinnae charge our tenants if they cannae pay. We ken they will pay when they can. Well, the goat was startled by a dog that nipped at its heels. The goat, scared for its life, ran through the fence holdin’ the piglets. The piglets scattered like leaves in a storm and Finlay had tae chase one o’ them nearly tae the Cairngorms afore he caught it.”
“As actin’ laird in my father’s place, I could nae go about chasin’ piglets from here tae Edinburgh, so I stayed tae collect the rents and Finlay chased down the wee piggies,” Malcolm explained with laughter.
“I would gladly trade ye any day, brother,” Finlay grumbled. He looked up at Alana and stared at her suspiciously. “I dinnae remember seein’ ye there afore.”
“My faither paid the rents while I stayed home,” Alana lied.
“What was yer faither’s name?” Finlay answered.
“James,” Alana lied again.
“Aye, we have a fair number of James’ tae be sure,” Malcolm nodded. “Tae many tae be able tae tell yer faither apart without lookin’ at him. Was he a good man, yer faither?”
“Oh, aye,” Alana answered. “He was brave and strong, but firm.”
“And yer maither?” Freya asked curious. “What was her name?”
“Mary, my lady,” Alana answered.
“Just like our own dear Mary,” Freya smiled.
“’Tis a common name tae be sure,” Mary answered from the other end of the table. “There are countless Marys throughout the clan.”
“Aye,” Finlay agreed, squinting his eyes at Alana. “So verra common.” His tone of voice practically shouted that he did not trust Alana.
“Well, ye need nae worry about rents this day. Ye live here in the castle now,” Malcolm reassured her.
“Will ye be collectin’ rents the day through?” Alana asked.
“Aye, we all will. It does the clan good tae see our family together. It gives them confidence of our strength and ability tae protect them. With Faither bein’ so sick and unable tae fulfill a majority of his duties, it falls tae the family to reassure the clans,” Malcolm explained.
“That is why yer timin’ was such a blessin’,” Freya informed her. “I need tae be out among the clans folk as much as possible tae reassure them that Andrew and I still care about their well bein’ and that we have nae abandoned them. Malcolm will collect the Murray rents and I the Erskine.”
“I am glad tae be o’ help,” Alana answered. From what she was hearing, it sounded as if she would have the entire house to herself while the family remained outside for the entirety of the day. While Andrew slept, it would give her a chance to look around and see what might be of benefit to her father’s cause. If she was careful, she might even be able to sneak into the treasury unnoticed. Her father had shown particular interest in the castle’s military and monetary strength. He had also wanted to know of any changes that had been made to the castle’s architecture and any weaknesses in the physical structure or guarding of the castle.
Thus far from what she had seen, there were a great many people about, but very few with the sole responsibility of guarding anything. She knew the lack of security might be due to the festivities as only a fool would try and attack during a gathering of the clans when they would be at full strength. She would have to wait until things returned to normal before she could send her father an accurate assessment of the castle’s defenses.
Alana thought of the Murray sisters and felt a twinge of guilt for what they would endure when her father took the castle. She had seen him gift such girls to his men in the past and the sight was not a pretty one. Maybe she could help them escape before the fighting began. She would never intentionally endanger a lass of any age if she could keep from it. He father believed in no quarter for his enemies and that worried her. While she looked for ways to help her father, she would also look for a means of escape that she would keep secret until the appropriate time. I will nae allow him tae hurt the wee lassies or Mary’s unborn bairn.
After breakfast, Alana had a few words with Mary to inquire as to her health and then went below stairs to check on Duncan. He had been brought breakfast in bed and was resting comfortably thanks to a healthy dose of whisky with his porridge. The girl from the night before was still at his side holding his hand. Alana smiled. The highlander would be a fool not to milk his injury for all it was worth. Alana removed the bandage, inspected the wound, dabbed a wee bit of whisky on it with a cloth, and rebandaged the shoulder.
Leaving the young lovers to themselves, Alana made her way up to the laird’s room. Freya had seen to his morning needs before going down to break the fast, so Alana was there to keep him company and to see to anything that might arise. Freya had left them a chess set and Andrew’s favorite books to keep them busy. Alana and Andrew played three games of chess and read several chapters before he fell asleep. She had helped him to the chamber pot when needed and he had joked about the indignities of old age to ease their mutual discomfort.
Alana was surprised to find that she truly enjoyed the laird’s company. From everything her father had told her, the two of them had once been close friends until things had turned sour. She tried not to be roped in by the Murray charm, but found herself forgetting her true mission and simply having fun. When Andrew fell asleep, she waited a few moments until he began to snore, then she snuck out of the room and explored the castle’s many nooks and crannies on her own.
When she reached the treasury door, she found it guarded. She passed the clansmen on guard and pretended to be there to check on Duncan once more. Having failed to gain entry to her father’s most prized piece of information, Alana returned to sit with Andrew. Her father would not be pleased with her inability to gain entry. Why he should expect me tae be able tae do anythin’ different than his myriad of spies, I dinnae ken.
Alana spent the rest of the day playing with and talking to her patient, deciding to let matters wait for another time. Instead, she bade Andrew to tell her stories of his and his family’s lives. Perhaps within his past lay an answer that might help her own family’s future.
* * *
Finlay was in utter misery. He couldn’t believe how foolish he had been to attempt to outdrink a veteran such as Fergus. He prayed to all the saints in heaven that he would not have to chase any
errant animals this year. He did not think he could manage it this year to save himself. He was having a hard-enough time transferring rents back and forth to their preferred destinations. Malcolm was right. Finlay had acted the idiot and would now suffer for it.
Thoughts of his brother immediately turned to the lass Malcolm had allowed into their home with nary an inquiry into her origin story. There was something that did not sit right with him about the girl. She was bonnie to be sure, but Finlay had always prided himself on being able to tell when someone was lying and Alana was definitely lying about something. He could almost smell the deception pouring off of her in waves.
He had tried talking to Malcolm about it, but he had brushed it off as nothing of import. When it came to men, Malcolm had trusted Finlay’s advice without hesitation, but when it came to women, it was another story entirely. Malcolm was no whoremonger. In fact, Alana was the first girl he had shown any real interest in since his father had fallen ill. He just had a soft spot in his heart when it came to the lasses. Finlay suffered from no such malady.
Orphaned as a boy during a battle at Kellie Castle, he had been adopted by Andrew and Freya who treated him as their own. The one exception to the rule was the line of succession which remained in the Murray bloodline. As an Erskine, Finlay did not care about inheriting the Murray title. He had simply been happy to have a family that loved and cared for him. The only time he did not feel as though he belonged was on the anniversary of his parents’ deaths when each year he made the journey alone to visit their graves at Kellie Castle.
He was not forced to visit alone. Malcolm would have gladly gone with him. In fact, the entire family would have gone were he to ask, but he always refused. The anniversary of his parents’ death was the one time of year where he was truly an Erskine, his parent’s child and theirs alone. The rest of the year he was gladly a Murray and was mostly content to remain as such, but for the fact that it had been a Murray attack that had killed his parents.
The sound of a goat bleating and pigs snorting brought Finlay out of his reverie and back to the present. He would remain vigilant this year and stop any incidents before they had a chance to happen. When Malcolm was not looking, he would inquire if any of the men knew of a James and Mary Murray who had a daughter named Alana, but none of them had that they could think of at the time. If Malcolm were to catch him inquiring about her among the clansmen, there would be an awful row between them, so Finlay only asked when he was absolutely certain that his brother would not find out.
There is nae reason tae argue ‘til I find the truth. Then and only then will I inform him. Nae need tae upset the lad afore I have proof o’ her lyin’ ways. I just hope he does nae lose his heart tae the lass afore I can unearth the truth. The poor lad verra nearly kissed the lass before God and all at supper.
Finlay had pulled his brother aside later that night to caution him against losing his heart to a strange lass he did not know, but his warnings had fallen on deaf ears. Malcolm was smitten with the girl. ‘Ye just met her,’ Finlay had reminded him to no avail. His brother was too heart strong for his own good.
Finlay decided that he would ride to all of the local villages and inquire as to whether any of them knew of the lass and her parents. He would tell Malcolm that he was just doing his regular checks to see that all was well with their fellow clansmen. It would take some time, but it would be worth it to discover the truth.
* * *
Sometime in the afternoon hours, Alana and Andrew were on their sixth chess game when it was interrupted by an urgent knock on the door. A woman from the kitchen scurried in, her face flushed with anxiety. Curtsying to Andrew, she burst out, “Beggin’ yer pardon, my laird. Lady Mary is nae feelin’ well and has asked that I send for the healer. I have been sent tae sit with ye instead.”
“I will go tae her now,” Alana answered. She quickly stood up from her chair and ran from the room. She rushed down the stairs and burst into Mary’s room without bothering to knock. She was alone.
Alana took in the scene before her. Mary was drench in sweat, beet red from the sun, and from the smell Alana was fairly sure she had urinated on herself. None of this was terribly unusual for a woman so far along in her pregnancy, but it was the way in which she shook and the pallor of her skin under the sunburn that worried her. “Where is yer husband? Ye should nae be alone in yer state such as ye are.”
“I dinnae wish tae worry him. The bairn is nae comin’, but I feel as though I might faint dead away upon the floor,” she said as she staggered, attempting to remove her urine-soaked skirts.
“Did ye nae tell any o’ yer family?” Alana scolded, coming over to assist undressing her.
“Nae, I did nae. ’Tis mortifyin’ enough havin’ ye ken it,” she moaned, clutching her back in discomfort.
“Here, let me,” Alana commanded, untying the skirts and letting them drop to the floor. She pulled Mary’s shirt and arisaid off in one smooth motion as if she had done it a thousand times before and poured a bowl of water from the pitcher on the washstand. Alana started with Mary’s hair and worked her way down the length of her body, bringing relief with every stroke of the cooling wet cloth. “Yer overheated. A woman in yer condition should nae be about in the hot sun all day without some kind of reprieve. Ye should have come inside for a cool drink of water and a lie down. Now ye have nae choice but tae be sensible.”
As she bathed Mary’s belly, Alana felt the bairn kick against her hand. “Ye wee thing,” she crooned and was rewarded with another kick.
“He had nae moved nary ‘tall this morn. I was beginnin’ tae worry that…” Mary broke down in sobs.
“Shhh, dinnae fash. Ye and the bairn will be fine,” Alana reassured her. She finished bathing Mary and slipped a nightgown over her head. “Now ‘tis off tae bed with ye. I dinnae want tae see ye up again ‘til the morrow. I am goin’ tae stay right here and see that ye obey my orders.” Mary lowered herself down upon the bed and Alana helped her get her legs beneath the covers. She dumped the dirty water out of the bowl and dipped a clean cloth into the pitcher to place upon Mary’s forehead.
Tears of misery streamed down Mary’s cheeks and Alana’s heart went out to her. “I dinnae mean tae fash so,” she apologized.
“Think nothin’ o’ it,” Alana consoled. “Ye have every right tae act as ye please.”
“Ye are a good friend, Alana,” Mary stated as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Alana was not prepared for the pang of guilt that hit her upon hearing such words. Her chest actually hurt under the strain of knowing the truth about herself. Unable to say anything, she attempted a smile, but failed.
“Promise tae stay with me here at Blair Castle until after the bairn has come? I dinnae wish tae endure it without ye by my side,” Mary requested, taking Alana’s hand in hers. “I ken well enough that I only just met ye, but I trust ye in a way I cannae explain.”
Alana felt as if someone had stabbed her in the chest. Her guilt was beginning to overpower her good sense and she was forced to sit down on the edge of the bed before she fled the room in desperation. She could not under any circumstances allow her guilt to get in the way of her father’s plans. If she did, Alana was fairly certain that he would either kill her himself, or sell her off to the highest bidder. Were she to spoil it all now, she would be married to a brute three times her age before a fortnight had passed.
“Aye, I will be here for the birth of yer wee bairn. Where else am I goin’ tae go? Ye are all I have left in this world,” Alana only partially lied. In moments like this with Mary, she felt that she had been nothing but alone before coming to Blair Castle. She squeezed Mary’s hand in an attempt at comfort.
“Lie down with me,” Mary requested, scooting over so that Alana could climb under the covers. “I dinnae want tae be alone.”
Alana removed her shoes and did as Mary bade her. “Now close yer eyes and go tae sleep. I will be here when ye wake, I swear it.”
Mary closed her eyes
and was snoring softly in minutes, never having released Alana’s hand. Alana lay there and stared at the ceiling. She had always wanted a sister. She suspected that the way it was with Mary might be something similar with perhaps more arguing involved. She and her brother Ross had argued all of the time, causing their father to lose his temper more than once. Intelligent children would have stopped arguing to avoid punishment, but not them. They had continued arguing everyday up until she had left for Blair Castle. She did not miss home, but sometimes she did miss her taunting brother. She wondered if he felt the same.
I cannae help but wonder if ‘tis the same for Malcolm and his sisters. They all seem tae get along verra well, but I have only been at Blair Castle for two days. Why does it feel longer? It feels as if I have been here my entire life. Alana shook her head in response to her thoughts. I dinnae ken my own mind.
She rolled over and watched the rise and fall of Mary’s belly. Occasionally, she could make out the tiny movements of the bairn from beneath the nightdress. What sort o’ maither will I be someday? What sort o’ maither was my own? She had never met her mother as the poor woman had died at the exact moment Alana had entered the world.