by Paula Quinn
“Lily, I know ye dinna want to leave them. I dinna want to go either, but goin’ to Invergarry as soon as we can is the only way to secure our safety.”
She shook her head. “No. They have been the only family I have known since I was taken from mine. I will not leave them.”
“Lily, hear me, I beg ye—”
“I will not leave them, Elias,” she said, trying to conceal her anger. “You may go anytime you wish. You do not owe us a thing. You have done all you can and now ‘tis time to for you to leave.”
He stared at her as if he were surprised she could say such a thing. She wanted to say more. How could he expect her to leave them all to possibly die while she escaped to safety? She turned away from him, angry and not caring to say another word to him. He would go speak to Richard. He knew that if he could convince Richard to go, as his wife, she would have to follow. She would fight it. And if she were forced to go, she would never speak to Elias again.
He was quiet for a few moments, then said, “Verra well then, Lily.”
She closed her eyes, hating that he was going to go. He was so wonderful with the children. He made them all laugh and enjoy the day. He made her laugh and feel young again.
She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want to not have him around. She didn’t want to stop looking at him when he wasn’t watching, or to feel pretty when he caught her looking and smiled. How was she to resist him when he made her feel like a woman again just by slanting his gaze her way?
“We will take everyone with us. MacPherson stronghold is big enough, but we canna tarry. ‘Twill be taxin’, but we can do it.”
For a moment, she simply stared at him as if he’d grown a third eye between the other two. Did he mean it? Would he do this for her? Could they bring everyone? The pestilence could not likely withstand Highland winters. They might all live! Elias…
She nodded her head and smiled at him.
“How will we pack everything up? We only have two donkeys.”
“Pack verra little,” he said. “Only what ye canna do without. I need only speak to Richard aboot it and then we will tell everyone else.”
Lily’s smile grew into a grin and she nodded. “You are a gift from God, Elias. Go. Speak with him. I will wait here.”
She watched him move down the long hall.
When Brother Simon returned, she pointed down the hall. “Go. He has news.”
Could they all truly go with Elias to Invergarry? Why had he changed his mind? She didn’t care what made him do it, she was glad he did. She thought about what she would pack. She only needed her herbs and plants. How were they going to transport it all? Would it all die up north along with the sickness? The lemon trees would never survive.
Her smile began to vanish as she thought about all the reasons she and Richard could not go. They needed to find a cure. Help everyone, not just themselves and their friends.
“You can do your research in Invergarry, Richard,” she heard Elias say as he and Richard entered the kitchen and moved toward her.
She frowned, knowing her husband would not agree, knowing she agreed with him.
“’Twould take too long to get to those who need it in London,” Richard argued.
Lily lowered her gaze to the lemon she was peeling.
“So ye would risk the people of Sevenoaks—yer friends, fer people ye dinna know?” Elias asked.
Richard did not answer.
Lily turned around to face both of them. “Elias, we wish to help more than just our friends. Please do not wrangle my husband any further.”
Elias stared at her, his hopes falling around his feet—or were they? She had the feeling he was called Lion Heart because he did not back down.
“Lass,” he said, proving her correct a moment later, “there isna much time. We must ootrun this thing. ‘Tis how to battle it—by stayin’ away from it long enough to create the remedy. Aye?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “People in London are dyin’. Every moment matters because if one person here gets sick, I willna bring anyone home, includin’ myself.”
Lily swallowed, understanding. Understanding why he was a commander.
“Richard, ye can ride my horse,” he continued and then set his eyes on her again. “Ye can ride Simon’s. We will use the two other horses we saw in the stable, along with the donkeys, to carry yer work, but we need to go.”
Lily nodded and looked at Richard, then took his hand. “Perhaps he is right. You need to live so you can keep trying.”
“Aye,” her dear husband agreed and then nodded to Elias. “We will have to convince Osbert.”
Elias was too happy to care about any other opposition. He threw his arm around Richard’s neck and pulled him close. “Thank ye, my friend. I want ye to live.”
“As do I,” Lily told him when Elias let him go. She slipped her hand into Richard’s and gave her husband a nervous smile. He lifted their hands and patted hers with his other hand.
“Let us go to Osbert now,” Richard suggested. He let her go and gathered his cloak. “We have much to do.”
Elias smiled at her as they reached the door.
As she stepped outside and looked around, she thought she should be happy for other reasons, such as they would all have a better chance of living by following him. But the truth was that she was most happy she was going to see the breathtaking land he had spoken of with its jagged mountain ranges that go on forever. She was happy she wouldn’t have to bid him farewell, happy that he cared for her husband, and the people here. And for her. If Richard found a cure, they would find a way to get it to the proper people, who would duplicate it and spread it throughout the world.
She followed them to Osbert’s house, walking behind Richard and Simon with Elias at her side. He felt big beside her, like a guardian. She felt safe. She liked it.
“How are we going to bring everything? ‘Tis overwhelming to think about. And what about the mothers who are alone with their children, like Clare and Agnes and Alice?” She suffered doubts about their ability to leave and her hands began to shake.
“Lily,” Brother Simon stopped her. “Do ye have much influence over the reeve?”
She shook her head no.
“Nor do I. Maybe we would do better by going to pray.”
She nodded and promised her husband she would pray for the best decisions to be made.
She walked with the brother to the church.
“Let us sit outside today,” Brother Simon suggested and turned toward a single bench behind the church, facing a narrow running stream.
Lily thought it a nice idea and smiled at him as they sat down to pray. A cool wind pulled at her hood, but it was not brisk or overly cold. That was coming, as well.
How long would it take them to reach Invergarry? Would winter find them traveling?
She asked the brother her questions after they prayed. “It should not take longer than a fortnight—with so many walking—”
“A fortnight! How will we all eat?”
“We will hunt and eat from the land.”
She wanted to laugh because it sounded so preposterous, but he said it with conviction and made her believe it.
So be it then. The choice was not hers to make and she did, now, see both points of view.
“Tell me about your life, Brother,” she said to set her mind on other things. She lifted her fingers to his scars. “I can give you oil to apply every day. ‘Twill help keep them from turning red.”
“I am already in your debt.”
She shook her head. “There is no debt. How did you get them?”
He gave her a surprised look and then a short laugh and she wondered when was the last time anyone showed interest in him.
“Ah, let me think now.” He set his fathomless, dark green eyes on the window. “I was eight when my mother died. Nine when I was sold to the Earl of Hampton in Norham.”
“Was servitude terrible for you?”
“Aye, most terrible,” he replied.
Lily didn’t come from a town or a city like London. She wasn’t aware of how lords and ladies treated their servants. Country folk, like her, didn’t have servants.
“Did your master do this? Why?” she asked when he nodded.
“Someone accused me of trying to gain his daughter’s favor.”
“And were you trying to gain it?”
“In truth, I was,” he confessed. “Rohesia has the face of an angel. I could not help myself from liking her. So to prevent the chance of his daughter returning my affections, he had me whipped once across the face. The three scars are from one strike coming around and getting me from the other side. I have more on my back. He turned me into a hideous monster.”
“You are not a hideous monster, Brother Simon,” she assured him. “The one who did this to you is.”
“He is dead by now,” he said, waving away the story and the effects of it. “’Tis a time best forgotten.”
“Aye,” she agreed. “Tell me how you met Elias. You mentioned his father rescuing you from your lord.”
“Aye,” he smiled and told her about Nicholas MacPherson and his bonny, beloved Julianna, Elias’ stepmother. “Lord Nicky found me when I was sixteen and I have been like an older brother to Eli since.” He laughed. “A much older brother.”
“And a wiser one,” she pointed out. “Tell me about the MacPherson stronghold, Brother.” If she was going to be living there, she wanted to like it. She hoped she did. “Is it like Sevenoaks?”
“In a way,” he said. “’Tis more…fortified. Most of the houses are connected by walkways and a wall surrounds all of it. Everyone there is safe. Everyone would die for his or her neighbor. But ‘tis growing in size and soon the brothers will have to do away with their wall. Sooner now than later.”
“Is it unsafe in Invergarry?” she asked, worried.
“Nowhere in Scotland is safe from the English. If we are caught traveling together, you are to say I am your servant. If not, they will likely kill me and rape you.”
She shivered in her spot, never knowing until now what it meant to be a Scot. They were England’s servants.
She felt a little ill and rubbed her belly.
“How are you holding up under all this, lass?” he asked, sobering suddenly. “Not just the worry of the pestilence, but the rest of it. With Eli. You care for him?”
His questions were so unexpected that she stumbled over her words, not knowing how to answer or where to begin. She could have pretended ignorance but she was not daft, and she wouldn’t pretend to be. “Aye.” She lowered her voice. She’d wanted to confess anyway, didn’t she? “I have tried to stop it from happening, but being near him, in the same room with him, sets my heart to thumping. I know I am a married woman and I do not care if our marriage is not physical, I love my husband. So, tell me, Brother, how do I stop my heart from wanting Elias?”
He shook his head. “I have had similar conversations with him and I must tell you, lass, I do not know.”
“Similar conversations?” she asked, her ears perked up. “About me?”
He squirmed—just a little. “Lass, you must know he cares for you. Even your husband knows.”
At this, she closed her eyes and clutched her chest. She didn’t want Richard to be aware of her feelings or Elias. “Oh,” she cried. “Mayhap ‘tis for the best that you and Elias leave here and never return. I cannot bear the thought of hurting Richard.”
“Lily,” he consoled gently. “If you do not come with us, you will likely die here. You are young so you might have to watch Richard die first.”
She stared at him, horrified. Stunned that he would say something so cruel—as the truth. She let out a breath in a sorrowful sigh and turned away. “We will come with you.”
“Sweeting,” he tried, sounding heartbroken. “There can be no doubts or hesitation about this. We are not very far from London. This thing will come. ‘Tis only a matter of time. All we can do is pray and leave while we can.”
“I know you are correct, Brother,” she said, returning her gaze to his. “If I stay, I will likely die after Richard. But the other option is live with the shame of what I feel for Elias.”
Brother Simon rested his hand on her shoulder and hung his head, knowing there was nothing more to say. Whatever she decided, she was doomed.
“I want to think God sent you and Elias to save us, but then why am I tempted by him? Do you think you are both here to bring us away from the pestilence?”
He shook his head. “I do not know why we are here, but I know that once Eli saw you, he changed. I thought him mad for staring at you the way he did, as if you were something he had been looking for and had finally found. Something divine. Nothing will pull you from him now. I know him and I can tell you he will wait for you and he will be yours when you are free—” she looked away “—but until then, you must think of Elias as a friend.”
She nodded, but it was easier said than done.
Easily proven when Elias and Richard found them on the bench and her heart pounded hard in her breast, her mouth went dry, and her palms grew sweaty.
Elias’ adventurous gaze found her and then he smiled. “We leave at first light.”
Chapter Eight
Lily packed the last of her clay jars into a large sack. Each jar was secured closed with twine. Some of the older children had helped peel more lemons and the rinds were gathered and set out to dry while the rest of the packing was done. Joan and Agnes and some other women of the village had spent the day cooking and baking their food instead of letting it spoil.
They’d invited everyone to eat together as the sun began to set. The ale and wine were plenty and the delicious food abounded, but their smiles did not reach their eyes.
By now, they all knew the truth. The Black Death was most likely coming. Osbert had informed the men of the perilous conditions in London. The unaffected did all they could to remain that way, leaving even dying loved ones to die alone. Physicians and apothecaries refused to see patients, and priests refused to give last rites to the dying. Vendors left, and shops closed. The pestilence showed no mercy to children and even the farm animals were affected.
The villagers sang and laughed rather than think on it all, or that they were leaving their homes. Everything they knew. Everything that belonged to them because the pestilence might come here. No one wanted to leave but they were all afraid to stay.
“We must head to bed soon,” Elias said, leaning down to Osbert’s ear from behind his chair in the reeve’s grand dining hall. “We will be risin’ early to leave.”
“Aye,” Richard agreed and called out for everyone to listen. “We must end this celebration and get some rest, for we will not enjoy many hours of sleep tonight. I know leaving home is difficult, but we will return when the pestilence dies. We will live and return.” People cheered. “But we must rest now, my friends. The journey will be tiresome.”
The people soon left to return to their beds. Lily promised to help Ivett clean up but there were too many bowls and cups and they decided to let it all soak in buckets until whenever they returned. They gave each other hopeful smiles and parted for the night.
Lily walked home with Richard, Elias and Brother Simon. She wasn’t sleepy and found herself still awake an hour after Richard fell asleep. She was ready to jump out of her skin and left the bed without a sound. She dressed quietly, thinking she would go to the shop and gather a few more things, since she was up. She hurried down the stairs and slipped out of the house, unheard by her husband and one of their guests.
What would her life be like if she lived? If they all lived? What if the MacPhersons hated them for intruding on their lives? What if one of the villagers was ill? They would know before they arrived in Invergarry, but what good would it do them? They would all die out in the cold.
“I’m sorry ye have to leave yer home, Lily,” she heard Elias’ voice behind her, deep, soft, compassionate.
She stopped and looked at him in the mo
onlight. Her heart skipped and then fell on its arse.
“I will help ye get back here,” he promised, staring back at her, looking just as affected.
“What if it comes to Invergarry, Elias?”
“It willna.”
“How do you know for certain?”
“Because no one will be allowed inside after us. As long as the sickness isna already with us then there is no way it can enter the stronghold.”
She closed her eyes praying he was correct.
“I’m frightened,” she confessed.
“I know,” he answered, as if he understood. But she was not only speaking of the pestilence. She was speaking of him also. She was afraid of what to do about him.
“Are you afraid, Elias?”
“A little, lass. But I am confident.”
She smiled as the wind battered her wispy hair around her face. She was glad he hadn’t realized what she was truly talking about, and happy to know that he was certain they would escape the sickness.
“Here, take my cloak as extra—”
“No. I will not take your warmth because I was foolish enough to come outdoors at night.”
He stopped untying and held out his arm, inviting her to come under his cloak. “If ye need it.”
She did, but she knew she could not accept without wanting more, a kiss mayhap, the scrape of his teeth against her throat. The scruff on his jaw between her breasts. She wouldn’t be able to separate his kindness from the thrill of being tucked under his arm, safe from the cold, from the disease, from everything but guilt.
She shook her head and moved away, continuing on.
“Are ye goin’ to work?” he asked, following her.
“Aye.”
“I will help ye.”
She shouldn’t be, but she was glad he was coming with her. “Were you having another sleepless night?” she asked him, though the silence between them was not awkward. “Mayhap I could unpack some chamomile and make you some tea.”
“I was sleepless, but not over the same things that once haunted me. When I heard ye leave the house, I didna want ye to be alone oot here at night, so I left my bed.”