by Fiona Faris
“Why did you not return home?”
“I did not know where home was. I have lost my memory and have only been remembering a little at a time.”
“And when your betrothed came, did you not wish to return with him, My Lady?”
“Nay, I did not.”
“But why, My Lady? Was it not your duty to return?”
“The man who is to be my betrothed raped a girl on the island no sooner than he had stepped foot upon its shores. The man he sent to find me, very nearly killed me and the laird. The memories that I have regained are that of terror, violence, and death. I do not recall a single good thing about my life in England, nor do I wish to claim myself as English. Our countrymen have done naught but torment the good people of Scotland, and I do not wish to belong to such a country as that which rapes and kills innocent women and children.”
“Oh, My Lady.” Tears streamed down Anna’s cheeks.
“I understand if you do not wish to stay here with me, but I ask that you not reveal my whereabouts to anyone upon your return to England.”
“I am not going anywhere without you. Where My Lady goes, so too shall I. I will not be leaving your side ever again.”
“It was good that you were not with me on the ship. Had you been, you would surely have died with the rest of them.”
“You were the only survivor?”
Elizabeth nodded. “As far as we are aware, I am. Did you know anyone aboard the ship with me?”
“Nay, not well, My Lady.”
“That is good.”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth released Anna and moved to James. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “How are ye, me love?” he whispered against her hair.
“As well as can be expected without you by my side. Uncertain as to what to expect.”
“We have news o’ yer family brought to us by the bravery o’ yer lass, Anna, and me friend, Ian MacDonald. Yer faither and the Irishman are both on their way tae Skye.”
“Nay,” Elizabeth gasped in distress as tears sprung to her eyes. “I will not put your people in any further danger than I already have. I will surrender myself to them and return to Bierley or Ireland or wherever it is that I am to be.”
“Ye belong here with me.”
“Yes, I do, but not at the risk of other lives.”
“I am sendin’ ye off o’ the island with Ian. He has agreed tae take ye tae the Isle o’ Jura for a time until the danger has passed. Yer lass, Anna, may go with ye. I will also be sendin’ Samuel and Agnes.”
“Will that protect your people, to send me away?”
“It might, but there is nae way tae be certain. They will still come. The Irishman seeks vengeance against me for what he perceives tae be a slight upon his honor; but seein’ as how that man has nae honor, he is clearly wrong.”
Elizabeth smiled slightly at his attempt at humor. “It is difficult to impugn something that does not exist.”
“Aye.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head once more.
“I do not wish to leave you; but if you believe it to be the right thing, I shall do so without complaint. However, if my absence will not keep them from causing you harm, why am I to leave?”
“If ye are nae here for them tae use against us, we will stand a better chance at talkin’ our way out o’ this. If ye are nae here, they are little more than blatherin’ cuddies in the eyes o’ the law. If ye are nae here, then they are the ones in the wrong.”
“And what if the blackmailers decide to use me against you by turning traitor?”
“It is a risk we will have tae take. I dinnae believe that they will jeopardize the entire clan tae get rid o’ me, but I could be wrong. If I am, ‘tis all the more reason for ye tae nae be here when it happens.”
“When do we leave?”
“Now, we have nae way o’ kennin’ when they will return, and it has already been some time ago that Ian and Anna learned o’ the Earls’ intentions. They could appear upon the horizon at any moment.”
“I will gather my things and be ready immediately.” Elizabeth re-entered the house and gathered what few belongings she had with her. She picked up the book that James had allowed her to borrow and hesitated for a moment as to whether to bring it or return it to him. It had been a gift from his mother, and she did not wish to part him from it. But if she was going to be leaving him to cross the sea, not knowing when, if ever, she would be allowed to return; she could not bring herself to part with this one last connection to the man she loved. Shoving the book into her bundle of clothing, she exited the cottage one last time and rode away into the unknown.
* * *
James held Elizabeth in front of him on the saddle; her head nestled against his chest. He wished to soak up every moment with her that he could, every last touch of her skin upon his own, to breathe in the very air around her. He longed to lay her down in the grass and make love to her one last time, but they were not alone and would not be again. He knew that the coming days would most likely cost him his life, whether by the Earls’ men or by his own clansmen. When they arrived at Ian’s boat, William was waiting with Samuel and Agnes. They helped everyone into the boat, Elizabeth being the last.
“I love you,” she whispered, staring up into his eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“And I you,” he whispered back crushing her to him in a passionate kiss. He did not care who saw. He had passed the point where such trivial matters of decorum mattered. He only knew that he had to taste her one last time. “Nae matter what happens, dinnae return tae yer faither’s house. He will only send ye back tae the Irishman. I couldnae bear it tae think o’ that man’s hands upon yer bonnie flesh.”
“I will not return to England, ever. I renounce my family and my people; I am now and forever will be Scottish, born of sea to the Isle of Skye.”
James closed his eyes as his chest constricted in pain. In that moment he made a decision that defied every sense of duty and honor to his title that he had ever been taught. He pulled the ribbon from her hair and wrapped it around their joined hands. “A year and a day,” he whispered, throwing away any chance of a future alliance through his previous betrothal to Fiona MacDonald. If I am tae die, it will be as husband tae the lass that I love.
“Forever,” she whispered back.
Removing the ribbon from their hands, he took her wrist and kissed the skin on the inside of it. He then wrapped the ribbon around the place that he had kissed and tied it into a bow. “Forever,” he whispered back and then released her into Ian’s care. As they watched the boat be rowed away, James felt as if his heart had gone with it.
William laid a hand on James’ shoulder in empathy. “Ian and Samuel will take good care o’ the lass.”
James nodded, and they turned back toward the castle. They headed straight for the kitchens to speak with the cook about the possible abuses of the previous laird upon the clan’s women. If they were going to be able to convince their own people to stand behind them when the blackmailers made their final move against him, these women would be their only hope. When they spoke with the cook about what they wished to know, she became very pale and lost her balance sitting down hard on the floor.
“Och, lass,” William stepped forward and helped the cook to her feet.
Isla rushed forward with a cup of water. It was her first day back in the kitchen since her rape at the hands of the Irish Earl. “Are ye well, Mrs. MacDonald?” she asked, rubbing the woman’s back soothingly.
“Aye, ‘tis nae but me own foolishness. Go and return tae yer duties, lass,” the cook waved her away. William nodded to Isla that it was alright and she obeyed.
“How do ye ken about such things?” the cook asked in a low voice.
“So, it is true?”
“Aye, ‘tis true.”
“Were ye one o’ the lasses?” The cook looked away. “Mrs. MacDonald?”
“Aye,” she answered.
“So, all o’ these years o
’ ye proclaimin’ the laird tae be the best o’ men were all an act?” James’ heart went out to the woman.
“Aye,” she nodded. The woman was trembling uncontrollably.
“Isla, whiskey,” he instructed the lass.
She poured the cook a dram and pressed it into her hands. “Drink.” The cook did so, coughing and sputtering around her tears.
“What happened?”
“I was quite young the first time that the laird forced himself upon me.”
“For how long did this happen?”
“Until I became with child.”
“Me faither’s child?”
“Aye, me son Robbie.”
“I have a brother?” James’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. He knew it was not uncommon for men such as his father to have illegitimate children, but he never would have guessed it to be the cook’s son.
“Aye, a younger brother.”
“And what o’ yer dearly departed husband? Did he ken the truth?”
“Aye. ‘Twas yer faither who paid him tae marry me.”
“He drank himself tae death, did he nae?”
“Aye, he did.”
“Does Robbie ken who his true faither was?”
“Aye, he does. He took the laird’s death verra hard after havin’ lost me husband.”
“There were other lasses?”
“Aye.”
“I am sorry tae ask this o’ ye, but I need ye tae speak with the other lasses and ask them if they would be willin’ tae talk with me on the matter.”
“Ye ask much o’ me and them, Me Laird.”
“With good cause, I am afraid.”
The cook nodded. “O’ course, Me Laird. I will do as ye ask.”
“I thank ye for yer sacrifice in this matter. All will be revealed soon. I should speak with Robbie as well.”
“I love me son, but he is an angry man who was denied the love o’ both o’ his faithers. I dinnae ken whether he will wish tae speak with ye on the matter or nae.”
James nodded. “I understand, but as me faither’s younger son he is entitled tae a place at me side and in this family.”
“I dinnae ken whether he will want such a place or nae.”
“What e’er he wishes, I will do what I can tae help him through it.”
“I thank ye, Me Laird.” The cook left the kitchen with Isla’s assistance to do as James had asked.
“The poor lass,” William murmured.
“She has been forced tae live with such a secret her entire life.” James shook his head in a mixture of sorrow, pain, and wonder. Sorrow for what had befallen the abused woman; pain that it had been his own father who had abused her; and wonder that, in spite of it all, the woman had somehow managed to survive with no one the wiser. “Me faither was the truest o’ bastards; and had I kenned what he was about, I would have killed him long afore the night that he died.”
“As would I,” William answered angrily. “I am certain that a great many o’ our clansmen would feel the same.”
“Let us hope that they feel thusly when all is revealed.”
“Aye, and if they dinnae; we should attempt tae ascertain whether or nae this younger brother o’ mine is worthy tae take me place as laird should the worst come tae pass. What do ye ken o’ the man?”
“Quiet, keeps tae himself. He is a capable warrior but does nae speak much at all with his fellow warriors. I have ne’er been able tae read the man.”
“Nor have I. He wasnae a man o’ particular interest ‘til now; a fact that might have bred bitterness, anger, and resentment o’er the years. The cause o’ his birth would have done the same, if nae worse.”
“Aye, it verra well may have done so. He may nae wish tae speak with ye; but o’ all the men on the island, he would have cause tae celebrate the auld laird’s death. If anyone would ken the justification o’ yer actions on that day, would it nae be him?”
“Aye, ‘tis possible.”
“Cook would also understand the reasonin’ behind it.”
“Aye, I expect that she would.”
“Our numbers grow.”
James nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, mayhap, only time will tell. ’Tis a hope that can be clung tae in this dark time; e’en if it proves tae be untrue, the possibility o’ it is enough for now. Any possibility o’ hope at all is a boon tae the heart.”
“The sight o’ ye handfasted tae the Sassenach lass was a hopeful sight,” William smiled.
James raised his brow in surprise. “Ye have been against such a union from the start.”
“Aye, when I thought it would bring ye further harm; but ‘tis tae late for such concerns now, is it nae?”
“Aye, that it is, me friend. That it is.” A sadness swept over him at the reminder that he would likely never see Elizabeth again. The morrow may bring me end; but for one golden glorious moment, I held the bonniest o’ sea nymphs in me arms. For one glorious moment, I loved and was loved in turn. Nae man can ask for a better end than that, nae man.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elizabeth watched as the Isle of Skye faded from view. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks, as she held the handfasting ribbon around her wrist to her breaking heart. She had witnessed a handfasting at the gathering and had wondered at such an arrangement. Now she understood. Now she knew why a person would enter into such an arrangement absent priest or minister, why they would agree to merely a year and a day, for so many were never allotted even that before meeting their end.
I will return to you, my love, her heart whispered across the water.
When she could no longer see James upon the shore, she forced herself to turn away from the Isle of Skye and toward whatever might lay in her future. An uneasy foreboding hung over her spirit, and she uttered a prayer for all those she cared for and who cared for her to be kept safe from harm. As the boat bobbed ever forward, Elizabeth’s stomach turned over. She was not certain whether it was from her overwhelming sorrow at having to leave James, or if she were prone to seasickness as the only boat that she could remember being on was the ship as it wrecked. She could not recall whether she had been ill before that. She attempted to keep her stomach about her, but it was not without great difficulty.
The water itself was beautiful, sparkling in the sun as a sea of diamonds. Had she not been so ill, she would have reveled in it. By the time they reached their destination, Elizabeth felt as if she had crossed the River Styx, moving from the world of the living to that of the dead. The Isle of Jura was beautiful with its mountain peaks and grassy knolls. Heaven could not have been more enticing to her after such an illness plagued voyage. The only thing that would have made it better when she stepped foot upon Jura’s shores were if James was waiting for her there. As it was, he was not, and she felt the loss keenly.
They climbed out of the boat and onto shore. Ian beached the boat and led them across the landscape to a small thatched cottage. “Ye will all remain here until other arrangements can be made. I will leave all the food and blankets from our journey and bring ye more supplies upon the morrow. There is a spring nae far from here where ye can fetch yerselves some water. It would be best if ye didnae wander tae far, tae keep others from kennin’ yer presence afore we have decided upon what tae tell people about ye. For now, just remain as ye are here. Eat, sleep, and restore yerselves.”
“I thank ye, Ian, for yer aid. May this entire ordeal be o’er as soon as possible so that we all might return tae where we belong.”
“Aye, may it be so; but ‘til that day, ye are welcome here on Jura with me and me family. Me croft is just through the trees there.” He gestured inland. “Samuel, ye have yer weapons for protection; but should anythin’ befall ye, fire a shot, and I will hear it and come runnin’.”
“Aye, I will,” Samuel promised, then Ian bid them farewell and took his leave.
Agnes silently went about preparing everyone something to eat, while Elizabeth made pallets on the floor. That night after they had all gone to bed, Elizabeth l
ay on her side, gazing at the ribbon around her wrist. The smooth silk caressed her skin, as soft as a lover’s hands, sealing in James’ kiss. When she closed her eyes, she could still hear James’ words as he bound them together. “Forever,” she whispered into the night, pressing her lips to the fabric. I will return to you, my love. I swear it.
* * *
When James awoke the next morning and descended the stairs, he found a cluster of clanswomen waiting for him with the castle cook. “Mrs. MacDonald,” he greeted. From the terrified looks upon the women’s faces, he knew that they were his father’s victims. “Please”, he said to the women, “come and break the fast with me. I believe we have much tae discuss and will need our strength tae get through it.”