When the Dawn Breaks

by Emma Fraser

  Finally, the tea was poured and the scone set on a plate. There was no more Jessie could do to delay confirming the truth she already knew.

  ‘Mam, your tea.’ Jessie touched her mother on the shoulder and her eyes opened. For a moment she looked at her as if she didn’t know who she was. Then her eyes cleared. ‘You’re a good girl, Jessie. Did I ever tell you that?’

  ‘You didn’t have to, Mam.’ Jessie’s throat felt thick.

  Her mother grasped her arm with her free hand. ‘Promise me, you’ll never give up trying to become a nurse. I’m sorry, mo bheag, that we couldn’t send you away to school. Dad and I wanted you to make something of yourself. And Archie.’ She smiled sadly. ‘Although you make me proud already. Both of you. I want you to know that.’ She placed her cup and the plate on the table beside her chair as if she hadn’t the energy or appetite for it.

  If Jessie had had the tiniest hope that she might be mistaken that her mother was ill, it had vanished with Mam’s words. Mam wasn’t demonstrative and she would never have spoken to her in that way unless – the realisation made her chest hurt – unless she knew she wouldn’t be with them for much longer.

  ‘Mam, I know,’ she said finally.

  ‘Know what, dear?’

  ‘I know you have consumption.’ Unable to hold back her terror any longer, Jessie gave an anguished cry and dropped to her knees, burying her head in her mother’s lap. ‘Don’t die, Mam. Please don’t die.’

  Her mother stroked her hair in the way she used to when Jessie was a small child. As she waited for her to stop crying, she spoke softly. ‘Jessie, I’m not afraid to die. I’ve known great happiness. I’ve known what it is to have the love of a good man. I have two children who make me proud, and I’ve been able to do some of God’s work by bringing children into this world. I’m luckier than most. Of course I don’t want to leave you or your brother, and I hope I won’t die for a long time yet, but when I do I’ll be with Dad and God. How can I be sad about that?’

  Jessie raised her face to look at her. ‘You could go to a sanatorium, Mam. They don’t ask for money for people with tuberculosis. Archie and I will look after everything here until you get better.’

  Her mother took a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed the tears from Jessie’s eyes. She smiled softly. ‘A ghràidh, I’m not going to get better. It’s too late for sanatoriums or anything else. Trust me when I tell you that. And I don’t want to leave my home or the graves of your baby brother and your dad. All I have known and all I care about is here.’

  ‘Archie will make you go, Mam, when I tell him.’

  Her mother stiffened. ‘He’s not to know.’

  ‘Why not? He’s the head of the family now. He has the right to know that you’re ill.’

  ‘Why tell him, Jessie? It will only worry him when there is nothing he can do to change the outcome. It is a woman’s job to bear the sorrows and to keep the men free from worry.’ She reached out a hand to tip Jessie’s chin, forcing her to look her in the eye. ‘Promise me, on your dad’s soul, that you won’t tell Archie. It’s the only thing I truly want. That – and you learning to be a nurse.’

  Jessie knew she couldn’t deny her mother this request. Her mam was still her mam and she’d never disobeyed her before and she couldn’t start now. ‘I promise.’ She wiped her eyes and got to her feet. ‘But I can’t go away now, Mam. Of course I can’t.’ She lifted the teacup and the plate with the uneaten scone from the little table. ‘The only nursing I’m going to do is here – looking after you.’

  Jessie’s heart ached as she watched a tear roll down her mother’s lined cheek. Mam took the dishes from her with a tremulous smile. ‘Of course you must still be a nurse. I’ve had my life and I won’t allow you to throw away yours. Not now, when you’re so close to achieving your dreams.’

  Jessie forced a smile. ‘There’ll be time for me to be a nurse, Mam, when you’re well again.’

  ‘No, Jessie!’ She was getting agitated. ‘You must go. Archie will be here to help with the croft, and our neighbours will keep an eye on me. I could have many years left, you know that.’ She placed her hands on either side of Jessie’s face. ‘My child, if you stay here, you will only make me sad. Do you want that?’ Her eyes burned into Jessie’s. ‘At least go to Inverness and finish your schooling.’

  ‘I promise you I’ll find a way to be a nurse, Mam. Don’t you worry,’ Jessie said firmly. And she would. One way or another.

  The anxiety cleared from her mother’s eyes. She dropped her hands from Jessie’s face and picked up her basket. ‘Good. Now, enough talking, my girl. There’s work to be done.’

  Chapter 11

  The wind had dropped a little by the time Isabel left the MacCorquodales’ house. It had been gratifying to see Jessie’s pleasure at her news.

  She swallowed. The tickle in her throat that had started that morning was getting worse and the beginning of a headache tugged at her scalp. She felt hot, too, as if she were starting a fever. Perhaps she had caught Papa’s cold. She hoped not. Nothing must prevent her leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow.

  She crossed the road and followed the path up towards the cliff. At the top, the wind was stronger, forcing the waves against the rocks so that the spray blew into her face.

  When, finally, she came over a rise to find Archie, her heart leaped. She had missed him so much.

  He had the hoof of a ewe in his hand and was studying it, so engrossed that he hadn’t heard her approach.

  ‘Hello, Archie,’ she said.

  He looked up and, for a moment, she saw the familiar gleam of pleasure her company had always seemed to give him. ‘Miss MacKenzie, how are you?’ He bent his head back to his task.

  His casual dismissal chilled her. ‘“Miss MacKenzie”? Are we not still friends?’

  He placed the ewe’s hoof on the ground and the animal ran away, with an alarmed bleat. ‘Yet you chose not to seek me out these past weeks.’ His eyes were bleak.

  ‘I couldn’t, Archie. When I wasn’t assisting Papa, Mama wouldn’t let me out of her sight.’

  His eyes swept over her. ‘Of course. You’re a woman now, a woman who has a place in society with rules and conventions to live by.’

  ‘Then you understand…’

  ‘You always did as you liked.’ He dropped his voice. ‘I hadn’t thought you would change.’

  She didn’t like the disapproval in his voice. Before she went, she wanted him to look at her the way he used to. With warmth.

  ‘I’ve just come from your home,’ she said. ‘I brought good news for Jessie and thought I should deliver it myself.’

  ‘What news was that?’

  ‘My father has found her a place to stay in Inverness so that she can take up her bursary. She’ll have to work for her room and board but Jessie assures me she’s happy to do so. Then, if she does well, my father has promised an introduction to the matron at the hospital in Edinburgh.’

  As she’d suspected, instead of looking grateful, Archie glowered at her. ‘We don’t need your charity, Isabel. It’s my duty to look after my family. I’m saving so that Jessie can go to school without relying on anyone else or having to work as a servant.’

  ‘But it will take for ever for you to save enough to send Jessie away.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she had said the wrong thing. Damn Archie’s pride.

  His face darkened further. ‘That’s what I mean. Friends don’t give out charity as if they were handing sweets to a child.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Archie. Friends help each other. That’s not charity. Besides, Jessie’s too clever to stay here and work the rest of her life on a croft. She should be a nurse. In a hospital.’

  Archie’s expression grew even more thunderous. ‘So, only the stupid and ignorant stay to work the land? Is that what you’re saying? In that case you must despise the man you claim to call your friend.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that, Archie! I know, if circumstances were different, you could
be anything you wanted. Remember how we used to say that you could be a politician?’

  ‘That was the talk of children.’

  ‘But it wasn’t completely wrong, was it? The villagers come to you for advice. You’re on the parish council. It doesn’t matter where you are, Archie, or what you do, you’ll always lead. One day you’ll find your true vocation.’

  The storm clouds disappeared from his face and he smiled sadly. ‘You were always an idealist, Isabel. Comes of reading romantic poems and novels.’

  She couldn’t take umbrage at his words. At least he was talking to her as if he knew her. ‘I’m leaving on Monday,’ she said.

  ‘I heard.’

  They looked at each other for a long moment. Isabel doubted she would ever see Archie again and her heart ached. To her horror her eyes filled.

  Archie took a handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbed away her tears. ‘Aw, don’t cry, mo ghaoil.’

  She reached up, took his hand and pressed it to her cheek.

  The world stood still. He grasped her waist and pulled her to him. Her breath came in short gasps as she lifted her face to his and then his mouth was on hers. A hot flame shot through her and she pressed herself into him.

  Gently Archie disentangled her arms from his neck and pushed her away. He grinned down at her. ‘I knew my Isabel couldn’t have disappeared for ever. But I won’t be satisfied with kisses. I want to court you properly. Like a gentleman courts a lady.’

  Court her? It was unthinkable. It was one thing to be friends with a crofter’s son, but for him to believe … Aghast, she stepped away from him. ‘Oh, Archie, that’s impossible,’ she said.

  ‘Why? You care for me and I care for you. You might be a doctor’s daughter and I might be just a crofter’s son, but as you’ve said, I won’t always be.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said stiffly. ‘I don’t know where your future lies but I know where mine does. I can’t think of you – or anyone – in that way.’

  His features settled into a grimness she had never seen. ‘Don’t make a fool of me, Isabel.’

  Her heart was racing. ‘I don’t mean to.’

  ‘You won’t allow me to court you, yet you kissed me. Is that the behaviour of a lady? If it is, then even the lowest-born woman on this island knows how to conduct herself better than you.’

  The censure in his eyes sent colour flooding to her cheeks. It was true, she had behaved badly, but he had no right to talk to her as if she were a naughty child. It was too humiliating. She raised her chin. ‘Forgive me. I was wrong. I simply wanted to say goodbye.’

  Clouds scudded across the sun and his eyes gleamed in the fading light.

  ‘Lie to yourself, if you wish, but don’t lie to me. The way you kissed me was not that of a friend.’ He smiled slightly. ‘One day, Isabel, you will come to me. As my equal.’

  The certainty in his voice shook her. He was wrong. To be with him would mean the end of her dreams and she could never allow that. ‘We will always be friends,’ she said flatly. ‘But only friends.’

  His eyes held hers. Then he sketched a mocking bow. ‘I shall always be at your service, Miss MacKenzie. If you need me, you know where to find me.’ He gave her a last long look. ‘You’d best be leaving now.’

  Still hot with embarrassment, Isabel left Archie and continued to walk towards the ruined village, wanting time alone to think before she returned home. It was hardly her fault that Archie had read too much into a simple kiss. But she couldn’t make herself ignore the voice in her head that pointed out it hadn’t been a simple kiss at all. She had pressed her body to his. And she had let him kiss her before. Her face grew hotter. Could she blame him for thinking he could court her when her behaviour had been shameful? But – a man who earned his living from the land! A man who, whatever his prospects might be in the future, was barely able to support himself and his family. Did he think she would give up her chance to go to university and become a doctor to stay with him here? In his tiny house with his mother and sister? Or did he think she’d wait until he had made enough to support her? She closed her eyes, imagining the horror on her mother’s face when she introduced Archie as her beau. She knew she had hurt him, though, and regretted it deeply.

  She was almost at the ruins of Galtrigill when she heard the thudding of hoofs behind her. She turned and raised a hand to her forehead to try to see better. The rider, whoever it was, was heading straight for her. To her dismay, she saw it was Charles Maxwell. She had no wish to talk to him, especially not when she was so flustered. There was nowhere to duck out of view and, besides, judging by the direction of his mount, he must already have seen her.

  She continued towards the cliff, entering a small wood with only the narrowest of overgrown paths. Too narrow and difficult for a horse to follow, she hoped. Perhaps Charles would give up and continue on his way.

  However, it seemed he was determined to speak to her. She heard his muffled footsteps behind her and turned to find him a few steps away, leading his horse.

  ‘My dear Miss MacKenzie, how fortunate to find you here,’ he said with a smile. His appearance alarmed her. He was dishevelled and had a bruise under his left eye.

  Now she had no option but to return home. Anyone seeing them might think it was a tryst and she did not intend her name to be linked with his. She shuddered.

  She turned on her heel. ‘I was on my way home,’ she said.

  He blocked her path, which irritated her. Within the bounds of good manners, she couldn’t have made it clearer that she wasn’t interested in his attentions.

  ‘Stop and talk with me a while,’ he said. She stepped back. Was that drink she could smell on his breath? It was only early afternoon.

  ‘You have been avoiding me, I think.’ His voice was slurred and his eyes glazed. ‘Yet you seem to have no issue with kissing the crofter’s son.’

  Her heart thumped. So he had seen her and Archie kiss. Well, what of it? It was no concern of his.

  ‘Please let me pass, Lord Maxwell.’

  ‘Lord Maxwell? Why so formal now? You weren’t so formal on the night of the ball, if I remember.’

  ‘If I gave you any indication that I welcomed your advances, you must forgive me. Put it down to a young woman’s naïvety. I wish you good day.’

  Once again she stepped forward, trying to force him to move out of her way. To her annoyance he remained in her path. She made to brush past him, but he grabbed her arm and tugged her towards him.

  ‘One kiss,’ he said. ‘I bet a guinea that you’ll enjoy kissing me more than the peasant. One kiss and I’ll let you go.’

  Furious, she shook off his hand. ‘I have no intention of kissing you. Please stand aside, or I shall be forced to tell my father about your lack of manners and he, no doubt, shall tell Lord Glendale.’

  His lip curled. ‘Do you think my father would care about a single stolen kiss from the doctor’s daughter – especially when I tell him that she was also kissing one of his crofters? You flatter yourself.’

  ‘Then I shall also make him aware that you are the father of Flora’s son. I don’t imagine Lord or Lady Glendale will be happy to hear that their son put someone in the family way and completely abdicated his responsibilities.’ Her heart was racing but she kept her voice even. Bullies like him fed on other people’s fear.

  He narrowed his eyes, then threw back his head and laughed. ‘My father is a man of the world. As long as I never made any promises to the girl, which I didn’t, and as long as I continue to carry out my duties as his eldest son and heir, he’ll be happy.’ But behind the smile, she saw a flicker of doubt.

  Suddenly he gripped her arms and pulled her against him. She could feel his heart beating and something else, something that made her feel truly scared for the first time. Her resistance had only excited him.

  His hand groped between her legs. His action shocked her so much that, for a moment, she was rooted to the spot.

  ‘What are you doing? Let me go at once!
’ She flailed at him with her fists but he was far stronger than her. Why had she chosen this path where no one could see them? He brought his mouth down on hers and forced his tongue between her lips. Sour-tasting bile rose to her throat.

  She bit his lip and he pulled away with a sharp cry of pain. He drew his hand back and slapped her. Hard. Her head reeled. No one had ever hit her before. But she would fight back. She would not allow him to do what she feared he intended. She would rather die.

  He grabbed her arm with one hand and with the other lifted her skirt until it was above her waist. Then he dipped his hand into her drawers and pushed his fingers between her legs. The pain made her gasp. She pounded her fist against his face, but her efforts only excited him more. He used his leg to knock her feet from under her and the impact of her body hitting the ground robbed her of any remaining breath and made her head spin. His hands fumbled at the string of her drawers. Dear Lord, he was going to violate her.

  She stretched her hand along the ground groping for something to use against him. Her fingers found what she was looking for. A rock.

  She made herself go limp, as if the fight had gone out of her. Her actions had the desired effect. Charles grinned and relaxed his grip. She knew this was the only chance she would get. She swung the stone and hit him as hard as she could on the temple. He clutched his head. ‘Bitch!’ Mustering all her strength, she rolled him off her.

  And then, without a backward glance, she lifted her skirt and ran.

  Chapter 12

  Jessie was woken by a cry. At first she thought she’d been dreaming. A storm had come up while she’d been sleeping and the wind sounded like ghostly dervishes hurling themselves against the windows and doors.

  But the sound that had woken her wasn’t the wind.

  ‘No, Archie. No!’ It was Mam.