by Barbara Bard
Please help me, Lord Brambly, you are my only hope.
Yours faithfully,
Sarah”
Reading the letter over and over again, Sarah wondered if she should write more, but what more could she say in a letter?
Before anyone came in she blew on the ink to help it dry more quickly, then folded it up and sealed it in an envelope. As she carried it downstairs her heart trembled. If anyone should read this letter it would be the end for her and her lies.
She walked so quickly that she stumbled. The letter slipped from her hand and slid out of her reach. Her hands slammed against the carpeted floor, as did her knees.
She gasped and reached out for the letter immediately. As she tilted her head up, she found out that she had been beaten to it by Lord Flynn. He was holding the letter in between his fingers and looking down at her.
“Ah, a letter, how intriguing,” he said, turning it over in his hands. Sarah's breath caught in her throat. “What secrets does it hold; I wonder? Did I get a mention? I hope you are not writing to your father in hopes of calling off the wedding,” he said.
Sarah couldn't decide if he was joking or not.
“I would never do that. I am so excited for our impending wedding,” she replied.
Lord Flynn looked down at her as he ran his fingertip along the edge of the envelope. He tapped it, and for a moment Sarah was sure that he was going to tear open the paper and find out all she has been hiding.
Surely a man as intelligent and wise as Lord Flynn had seen through her lie. It wasn't as though she was a mastermind. Before this, she had never told a lie before in her life!
To her relief Lord Flynn leaned down and offered her a hand, helping her back to her feet. He handed the letter to her and caressed her cheek gently.
“As you should be,” he said. “Are you sure you are not injured, my Lady?” he asked, looking her up and down.
“I believe so. I merely lost track of my thoughts,” she said, offering him an apologetic smile.
“You are just like my sister, always rushing around as though you are running out of time.”
“We are quite a pair,” Sarah agreed.
“Just be careful. I would not want to see anything harm your appearance. I want everyone that comes to our wedding to see how beautiful you are.”
Sarah bowed her head.
“Now, are you not going to ask me about my hunt?”
“Of course, I apologize. The fall shook my wits from me. How was your hunt, My Lord?”
“It was successful, thank you for asking. At this instance, I am going to freshen up. I am looking forward to dinner tonight. I shall regale you with the tale of the great hunt.”
“I look forward to it, my Lord.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Lord Flynn's mouth. He nodded, then spun on his heels and walked away. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, pressing the letter into her bosom.
She had to escape soon. The longer she remained in the palace the more likely it was that the truth would be revealed. If she ever got to the wedding she just might faint with anxiety.
Sarah walked more carefully for fear of tripping up again. The sooner the letter was on its way the better. She went to the traveling merchant and handed her letter over to him. He was a young man, with a yellow beard, and he looked at Sarah in a strange way. He gave her a toothy smile, but did not say anything, and slipped the letter into his cloak.
The letter was out of her hands now. She merely hoped that Lord Brambly would read it and come to her rescue.
With only a few hours until dinner remaining, Sarah tried to read but found it most difficult to keep her mind focused on the words in front of her. She kept thinking about the traveling merchant and if he would reach Lord Brambly safely, and then if Lord Charles would actually be willing to come to her aid.
Most of all she dreaded dinner. Every time she was around Lord Flynn she was afraid that she would say something that would betray her own secret. The more time she spent with him the more she was sure he would realize something was strange about her, but there was nothing she could do to avoid dinner.
If she said she was ill he would most likely dote on her, or be frustrated that she was weak and frail.
Chapter 2
Drew was brooding on the moors. His home, his castle, loomed against the misty backdrop of the Highlands. The weather was a little chilly, he was wrapped in a thick fur. His black hair fell down to his shoulders, and his beard scratched his face.
As he looked at the castle he found it difficult to imagine that so many things had changed in such a short period of time.
The castle was sturdy, its foundation had been built many years ago, and it had stayed strong and withstood numerous wars over the years. To Drew, it had been a symbol of the strength of his clan, and the Highlanders in general.
The wild clans of the Scottish Highlanders had always been threatened by the forces of nature, wild animals, and the devious English.
It had never been an easy life for any of them, and that did not seem as though it was going to change any time soon.
Drew sighed as he stared, wishing that things had been different. All his life he had tried to live up to the ideals shown to him and his brother by their father. Aife had been a worthy leader, proving himself in battle with the English, then proving himself as a firm ruler in peacetime. The legacy he wanted to leave his children had been one of peace, but that covenant had been broken, not the least by Blair.
Drew's brother often infuriated him. Blair had the makings of a great leader but he always seemed to be going in his own way. For many years now Blair had been brooding, preferring to spend time alone rather than take his rightful place as Laird of the clan.
There were times when Drew even thought that Blair might run away for good and leave the clan in Drew's hands. It brought him shame to think this way, but sometimes Drew thought that the clan might be in better hands if he got to rule, especially given the recent events.
When Blair left the last time, Drew had honestly thought he would never see his brother again. But Blair had returned, and he wasn't alone, as he had brought back with him an English rose. A dainty young woman who he had quickly made his wife.
Such a brazen show of defiance was typical for Blair, but Drew couldn't believe that his father had also blessed the union before he passed away.
Now, this Rosemary had one of the most privileged positions in the clan, and Drew was worried. Blair had tried to placate him of course, and Rosemary had shown great wisdom and passion in how she had tempered Blair's temper, but it still gave him misgivings, especially when war with the English seemed as though it was going to rear its ugly head again.
“Ye look pensive, my lad.” Drew came out of his thought and turned to face his mother.
She wore a black cloak, its hood pulled over her head, leaving her face cast in shadow, as was the customary mourning rite. Wisps of white hair blew out of the hood, and as he looked closer Drew could see his mother's sunken eyes. Aife's death had taken its toll on her.
“As I should be. These are times that weigh heavily on our souls.”
“On mine more than most. It is sad that it took your father's death tae show Blair his rightful place in this clan.”
“Do ye think he is really best-suited tae lead the clan?”
“It is his birthright.”
“A birthright he hae always sought tae run from, and now he hae brought that English lass tae us.”
“Ye know she's nae all bad. In fact, I think she's quite good fer him.”
“Perhaps fer him, but what about us?”
Fianna sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Drew, ye are never satisfied. Ye hae always been the more thoughtful one out of ye and Blair, but dinnae lose yourself in despair. Blair can lead this clan. He just needed a little bit of a push. As fer Rosemary, she's made it clear that there is nothing waiting fer her back in England. We dinnae have anything tae worry about from her
.”
“And what if an opportunity fer her tae return does present itself? Can we truly be sure she will never want tae return?”
Fianna's mouth curled up at the sides. Ever since Aife died the sight of a smile from her had been rare.
“She loves him, Drew.”
Drew stared at her blankly, as though her words explained nothing. Fianna shook her head.
“There is still much ye must learn about life, my lad. Sometimes the lines between us and the English are nae so distinct. We are all still human, after all. We all have hearts.”
“My heart could never be taken by an English girl,” Drew spat. “Not after all the English hae done tae us, and especially nae since we learned what happened tae Gall.”
“That was a tragedy. I do hope there is nae another war.”
“If there is we shall crush them,” Drew said, clenching his fist.
“Ye hae more in common with yer brother than ye think.”
“Nonsense. Blair acts on his feelings. He never thinks about his actions, he's always so quick tae anger.”
“So are ye, when it comes tae the English. I dinnae blame ye either, especially nae after all we hae been through. I know that ye are still hurting from your father's death. In truth, I see so much of him in ye and Blair. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of one of ye and I think I am seeing him when he was younger, in the prime of his life.”
Drew's mood was tempered. Aife and Fianna had waited longer than usual to have children, so Drew had no memories of his parents as young people.
Often it was easy to forget that the two of them had lives before Blair and Drew were born, but their lives had indeed been long, filled with adventure and romance, until they finally settled down after the war and started a family.
“I'm pleased that he still lives on in us. I hope that we can make him proud.”
“I am sure ye will. He used to brood a lot too.”
“He did? Even when he was younger?”
“Oh yes, especially in the war. The responsibility of killing weighed heavily on him. There were times when he often wondered why there is so much anger inside all of us.”
“But he was one of the fiercest warriors the clans hae ever known. His prowess in battle is legendary.”
“Yer father fought because he had tae. He was always going tae do his duty tae the best of his ability, but that did not mean he took pleasure out of it. Remember, your grandfather was killed in battle at a young age, and yer father was always afraid the same was going to happen tae him. That is why we waited until the war was over tae have a family.”
“Really?”
“Yes. We spoke about it many times before the war, but yer father could sense something brewing. Then war broke out and he made it clear that he didnae want to risk leaving sons behind without a father. Once the war was over and it became clear that we could live in peace, we had a family. Sometimes I wish ye and Blair could have seen the war fer yerself. It might make ye feel differently, as it would the rest of yer generation.”
“We are nae leading the Highlands intae war. The English hae made the first move, as they always do. This Flynn, whoever he is, killed Gall, and that slight cannae be left unpunished. We are McCalls, and we dinnae let these things happen without consequence.”
“I wouldnae treat him so lightly. I remember a Flynn from the old war. It must hae been this one's father. He was a formidable warrior, and if his son has inherited his strength he will nae be an easy foe. The English are able tae amass a great number of troops. I wouldnae be so eager tae go tae war.”
“If they attack us we will crush them, we will wash the field with their blood and they will never come back again. We must teach them that this treatment of our people will nae and cannae be tolerated,” Drew said, his words growing harsh. He could feel passionate blood stirring within him.
“I ken, my lad, I ken, but old people like me who have already seen what war does tae people can wish for things tae be different. Ye and Blair are the right people tae lead our clan in this war.”
“Me and Blair? That man won't listen tae me.”
“Drew, ye must both listen tae each other. Ye are two halves of the same coin. I know Blair has often been difficult, but he has taken his place as Laird, and he will do his duty. I have already spoken tae him about this, but he cannae do it by himself. Ye must be there for him tae offer him counsel. Ye are an intelligent man and a strong warrior in your own right. If the two of ye fight together nobody will be able tae stand in yer way.”
“Then it's a shame that Blair makes it so difficult all the time,” Drew said, scowling. “But I will try my best, for the sake of the clan.”
“That is all I ask. Now then, I suggest that we go and join yer brother and the others for the feast,” Fianna said. Drew nodded and followed his mother down the hill.
He was left with much on his mind. His mother spoke wise words, but it was often so difficult to make peace with his brother when Blair had so often made it his mission to defy the needs of the clan.
A cough caught his attention. Drew turned and saw that Deirdre was signaling to him. Drew rolled his eyes. Deirdre was always trying some scheme.
Ever since Blair had returned with the English girl Deirdre had been scowling and skulking around. She and Blair had shared a kiss once. Deirdre thought that meant more than it did. Now she was a scorned woman and sought revenge on the man who wounded her heart.
“Mother, I must attend tae something first. I will see ye at the feast,” he said with a sigh.
Fianna glanced towards Deirdre and gave her son an inscrutable look. He wondered if she knew what the two of them were there to discuss, but no, it was impossible. His mother had the uncanny knack to know many things, but this was not one of them.
“What took ye so long? I thought we were going tae meet?” Deirdre said in a harsh whisper. Her flaming red hair framed her freckled face. Anger blazed in her eyes.
“Mother distracted me.”
“Ye are worse than yer brother for keeping track of time. Have ye thought any more about my proposal?”
“I have indeed,” Drew said.
“And?”
“It is nae right, Deirdre. I know ye hae been insulted by Blair's actions, but it isnae enough tae go tae these lengths.”
“Nae right? Nae right! Surely ye of all people can see that what Blair has done goes against our blood. Why would we want tae accept a Sassenach girl as one of our own?”
“Blair is the Laird now. It is his choice,” Drew said in a hollow tone.
“Blair has made the wrong choice.”
“Because he chose another woman over you? Deirdre, he didnae make any promises tae ye. Ye shared a brief attraction, but that was all. You had nae claim tae him, and ye are nae justified in plotting against him just because ye are scorned.”
“I have every right,” Deirdre said, narrowing her eyes at him, “and ye would be wise tae think about what I offer. If this is the choice Blair makes now, imagine what he will make if we go tae war. What if Rosemary's people offer him an alliance? What if she runs back tae them and says that she won't return unless he lays down arms? She is a weakness to him, and we cannae allow her to have so much control over him.”
“I don't think anyone hae any control over my brother. He hae always been like a storm, tempestuous and uncontrollable. That is why he brought her back in the first place.”
“I can make it look like an accident. I can get her alone and kill her. Nobody would be able tae trace it back tae me, or ye.”
“What ye talk of is treason. Ye are fortunate that I don't take this tae Blair himself.”
“Ye wouldn't dare, because ye feel the same as me. Perhaps all this time I chose tae pursue the wrong brother. Perhaps your father did as well. There are many of us who feel that ye would make a better laird than Blair,” Deirdre said, lowering her tone to a breathy whisper.
She moved in closer to Drew, placing her hand upon his chest, looking up at him with her su
ltry green eyes. For a moment Drew was tempted, his manly urges rampaging through his body, but if he gave into her then Deirdre would try and twist his mind to do her bidding.
Drew took her hand and pulled it away from his chest. Deirdre's face fell, her expression frustrated and annoyed.
“Be at peace, Deirdre. Forget this course of action. It is nae right that ye should be plotting against the leaders of the clan. Dinnae make any further moves like this or I will be forced tae bring ye before Blair.”
“If you're taking your brother's side now then ye're as foolish as he is. You know what this clan needs and yer brother cannae provide it.”