Scent of Scotland

by Mac Flynn

  "I'm afraid I don't follow you, my laird," she commented.

  "Laird Moray means for members of the party of put on an original play, written by him," Laird Stewart spoke up. The women glanced at one another, and more than one held a wide smile on their excited faces.

  "Us?" Lady Stewart wondered.

  He bowed to her. "The very same."

  "And pray, what is the play? Some great satire or a comedy?" she asked him.

  "Both, and neither. It is one filled with adventure, romance, and-" his eyes flickered to me, "-not a little danger."

  My heart skipped a beat. His pointed look inferred on me that this play was more than just a slight diversion.

  Lady Stewart clapped her hands to stop the chattering of the women. "My ladies, what do you say? Do you agree to this?"

  "Yes! Very much, yes!" arose the opinion of our group.

  Lady Stewart swung around and bowed to Ken. "Then you have our blessing. When do the rehearsals begin?"

  "After supper, if the ladies wouldn't mind sacrificing their late evening," he suggested.

  "We will suffer to do away with our cards for a night," Lady Stewart teased.

  Ken and the men with him bowed to us. "Then until supper, my ladies, we men leave you to yourselves."

  CHAPTER 47

  The men left, but my mate's proclamation stirred the imagination and excitement of the womenfolk. Nothing was talked about that did not concern the play.

  "I am sure I will be the lead," proclaimed the hefty boisterous woman from before.

  "Perhaps there is no lead," another spoke up.

  She frowned at her companion. "It is a romance, Lady MacNab. There must be a leading lady."

  "Perhaps there is more than one," another woman suggested.

  "If there are enough leading lady parts so we each might have one then we shall all be satisfied," Lady Stewart joked.

  One of the women, a thin-faced lady of thirty, turned her nose up at the suggestion. "I will not be performing in a play. Such a task is below us all."

  "Not even in fun, Lady Livingstone?" the hefty woman commented.

  "Not even in as limited a company as this, Lady Douglas," the thin-faced woman returned.

  "Then there shall be that much more open parts to fill for the rest of us," Lady Stewart pointed out.

  Lady Livingstone looked agape at our hostess. "You don't mean that you intend to submit yourself to this spectacle?"

  "I mean to have the lead, if I can," she replied.

  "Why, it would be unseemly for our hostess to partake in such a vulgar thing!" Lady Livingstone protested.

  "Besides, her mate may be the one to receive that top honor," another spoke up.

  All eyes turned on me, and I nervously smiled. "I hadn't really meant to be a part of the play at all," I admitted. More than one woman sighed in relief.

  "But you must surely know the contents of this mysterious play," Lady Stewart mused.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No, not even that. The first you heard of the matter was also my introduction."

  Lady Douglas sniffed. "Just like a man to not tell his wife important matters such as this."

  Lady Livingstone turned up her nose. "Important matters? A play? Surely you jest."

  Lady Stewart stepped into the center of our group and held up her hands. Silence descended upon us. "My ladies, if you do not wish to participate than by all means we welcome your choice for who else shall be our audience? To those who wish to participate, please do not fight among one another. We have enough foes against us before we turn on one another."

  Lady Douglas snapped her fat fingers. "Do you believe this to be a trick by the lairds?" she asked our hostess.

  "A trick how?" Lady MacNab wondered.

  Douglas scowled at the other woman. "Must I explain even the most obvious of matters?"

  "They are not obvious to me," Lady MacNab argued.

  Lady Douglas rolled her eyes. "They mean to distract us from our purported goal of escape through use of this play."

  "Nothing can be worse than being a party to the play," the thin-lipped Lady Livingstone protested.

  "Ladies, please," Lady Stewart pleaded. "I am sure they have little idea of our plans, and a play will not harm them. I meant to speak to you later of the matter, but as we seem to be hostile to one another I shall say that I do intend for the plan to be carried out very soon."

  Lady Douglas arched an eyebrow. "Soon? How soon?"

  "I shan't say just yet, but none of you will leave my estate in the company of your mate," Stewart assured her.

  I felt my blood run cold at such a proclamation. Ken was correct in thinking Lord and Lady Stewart meant for their plan to be put into action during these visits.

  "Are you well?" Elisa whispered to me.

  I shook myself from my reverie of fright and smiled at her. "I am, I'm just nervous."

  She squeezed my arm and hung her head. "So am I."

  "Would you care for a walk with me?" I suggested.

  Elisa lifted her head and smiled. "I would like that very much."

  I turned us towards the door. "Then let us gather our things and take a walk."

  "Lady Moray, Lady Cameron. Where do you go so secretly?" Lady Stewart called to us.

  I glanced over my shoulder and smiled. "I mean to show Lady Cameron your lovely grounds."

  A dark expression passed through Lady Stewart's eyes and her lips pressed tightly together. "I see. I don't believe I need to remind you to beware of the moors and their slippery grounds."

  I didn't miss the pointed reminder of the deadly grounds, but I bowed my head. "I haven't forgotten, and I will keep us safely away from them."

  Lady Stewart, satisfied with my reply, returned to her other guests. Elisa and I were clothed in our coats, and we made our way onto the portico. The early afternoon was without sky as we made our way down the left-hand stairs.

  "Where is the estates of your husband?" I asked my young companion.

  She nodded in the general direction. "To the northwest of here."

  "I have never been that far into Scotland. How is the country there?" I wondered.

  "It is beautiful when the flowers are in bloom, but they are not quite as beautiful as those of the isles," she told me.

  I studied her sorrowful face, and there seemed to be a heaviness to her step. "Did you leave behind family?"

  She nodded. "Aye. I was taken from my parents and older brother."

  "Then you have quite the family. I envy you," I commented.

  Elisa lifted her head and blinked at me. "Do you not have family?"

  I shook my head. "Not a one. I was orphaned quite early, and earned my living through being a seamstress."

  "Then your mate released you from a terrible life?" she guessed.

  I laughed. "My life was not so terrible as that, but it was all I knew. When Ken-my mate-took me I thought it a horrible punishment for some unknown wrong."

  She stopped us and clutched my mitten-covered hands in hers. We stood at the rear corner of the house, and the quiet around us made me feel as though we were the only people in the whole of the world.

  "Then. . .then you feel no animosity for him?" she asked me.

  "Do you feel animosity for your own?" I countered.

  She hung her head and bit her lower lip. "I. . .I cannot tell. I know he loves me dearly, and is kind to me, but still. . ."

  "Still he took you from your family," I finished for her.

  Elisa nodded. "Aye. I. . .I miss them so dearly."

  I leaned down and caught her eyes. "Have you asked him if you might return to your family, if even for a visit?"

  She blinked at me and shook her head. "Oh no. Lady Stewart told me it would do me no good."

  I raised an eyebrow. "How did Lady Stewart come to tell you this?"

  "She visited my husband's estate two and a half months ago to be free of her husband, if but for a short time, and told me then that I was not to trust him," she ex
plained.

  "Did she give you a vial?" I wondered.

  She shook her head. "No. Why would she?"

  I shook my head. "It's not important, though I am curious to know what you think of your mate," I persisted.

  "I. . .I will answer you, but you must answer first," she pleaded.

  I stood straight and pursed my lips. Elisa looked at me with her open, curious face, and I couldn't help but smile.

  "I think of Ken as a man whom I would dearly miss were we to be parted," I admitted.

  Elisa let out a great sigh and graced me with a small, shy smile. "I feel the same of Robert. That is, Laird Cameron."

  I laughed and shook my head. "Speak of him how you wish in front of me. I won't fault you for your love."

  She blushed and turned away. "Do you. . .do you really think it's love?"

  "One need only observe how he looks at you to know he loves you," I assured her.

  She closed her eyes and I saw a few loose tears stream down her reddened cheeks. Her voice was a hoarse, excited whisper of itself. "I am so very glad."

  "But you must know we can't tell anyone else of our true feelings," I warned her.

  She hung her head, but nodded. "I know. They do not feel the same."

  "Perhaps they do, but we wouldn't wish to upset our hostess," I lied.

  Elisa glanced up into my face. "Do you think she would be very angry with us?"

  I laughed. "I would not like to try her patience. She is a very-well, a very vocal woman."

  That garnered a smile from my companion. "Aye, she does seem very insistent on directing us."

  "She wishes the best for us and will direct us whether we wish it or not," I joked. I looped our arms together and led her down the path to the summerhouse. "Now let us enjoy the wonderful view for a while and guess to what mischief my mate aspires with his play."

  "Then you do not truly know what he intends?" she asked me.

  I shook my head. "Not in the foggiest."

  But I was soon to learn the truth.

  CHAPTER 48

  Elisa and I gossiped for an hour before the cold forced us inside. The long day dragged on until supper arrived. Our appetites were satiated by a fine dinner, but our curiosity was as hungry as ever before. At the end of the meal Ken stood and raised his arms. A hush fell over the group.

  "I ask that any who wish to participate meet me in the parlor in ten minutes," he requested.

  "And we others?" Lady Livingstone spoke up.

  "There is dessert to be had," he offered, and a great laugh arose from the crowd.

  Lady Stewart stood and tossed her napkin onto her plate. "Well, I for one wish to know the story in this play."

  "And I am afraid you will be one of the last to know," Ken told her.

  The amused expressions on the group turned to puzzlement, and Lady Stewart was the most surprised.

  "I, my laird?" she asked him.

  He smiled and gave a nod. "It must be so, my lady. As our hostess I demand you watch the performance."

  "But how can there be a performance without a leading lady?" she teased.

  "We shall endeavor to do without you," Lady Douglas spoke up, and the laughter rose up once more.

  Lady Stewart fidgeted and her smile faltered. "Really, my laird, this is most unusual. May I at least know more of the plot than you have given?"

  He shook his head. "No, and further more I banish you to this room until rehearsals are finished. The same to you, Laird Stewart."

  Lord Stewart bowed his head. "I will take this exile as a sign of kindness."

  Lady Stewart shot him a glare. "Wretched man. Do you not see that your wife is snubbed?" she snapped.

  "No, I do not," Stewart replied.

  "My laird and lady, please remember your guests," Ken scolded them.

  Lady Stewart swung away from them and folded her arms. "I will submit to your rule, my laird, but I think it very rude."

  Ken crossed an arm over his chest and bowed to her. "You give too much credit to my play, my lady, and I would not have it tested with so great a personage as our hostess," he explained.

  A bemused smile slipped onto her lips, and she graced him with her favor by facing him once more. "Flattery will get you places, my laird, but the hour grows late." She waved her hand to the doors, and a pair of servants opened them. "Now be off with you and whoever wishes to participate."

  Half our number, totaling ten guests, made the journey across the hall to the parlor. A small table stood in the center, and atop that were seven stacks of paper. Ken was the last to enter, and he securely closed the door behind him. He turned to us with a smile and nodded at the table.

  "The parts, I'm afraid, are made only for seven people," he admitted.

  "Then we shall see who is the better actors," Lady Douglas suggested. She strode over to the table and picked up one of the heavier stacks. Her eyes scanned the page and her brow furrowed. She half turned to Ken and her eyes flickered up to him. "This is very strange, my laird."

  "How so?" he returned.

  "Why, I cannot see anyone else's part," she explained. "There are merely lines for one part here."

  Ken smiled. "As I was short on time I wrote each part on only one set of papers."

  "But how are we to act properly with one another if we do not know the other's lines?" she argued.

  "That is why I propose that a couple should be the lead," he told us. His eyes skimmed the room, and they fell on Lord and Lady Cameron. "Would you two do the honor of being the lovers?"

  Elisa blushed, and Lord Cameron shuffled from foot to foot. "If you think us fit for the roles."

  "Aye, I do," Ken affirmed.

  "But they may know nothing of acting!" Lady Douglas argued. She grabbed her husband and pulled him against her side. They made a comical pair, for he was tall and skinny. "Why can we not play the leads?"

  "My fair lady, would you go against the playwright?" Ken teased.

  She pursed her lips and released her awkward husband. "No, but I do wish for an important part."

  "And you shall have one. I intend to make you the villain," he revealed.

  She gasped. "My good sir!"

  He held up a hand. "Do not think this is a light part, my lady. It is most important that a skilled woman play the part, and I believe you are the most skilled actor in this room." I hid my smile, for I believed Ken in his falsehood proved himself the most skilled liar.

  Lady Douglas stood straight and stuck out her chest. "That changes matters. Let us choose the others and begin the rehearsals."

  "There will be no rehearsals tonight," Ken informed her.

  The people in the room, myself included, stared dumbly at him.

  "But how shall we play our parts?" Elisa softly spoke up.

  "You two may rehearse together, but I insist everyone else memorize their parts tomorrow. Then we will have a rehearsal before the main performance after supper tomorrow," he assured them.

  "Really, my laird, this is most unusual," Lady Douglas insisted.

  He smiled and bowed. "I am a most unusual playwright, but if you wish to know my motives, it is to keep my play a secret so it shall be a surprise to everyone."

  "Even to the players?" she asked incredulously.

  He laughed. "Even to them, till the very last. That means you should not share your play parts with anyone, no matter how persuasive."

  Lady Douglas sighed and took the stack of papers marked 'villain.' "Very well, my laird, if you insist."

  "I plead with you," he corrected.

  "Then it shall be done."

  The other parts were parceled out, and I found myself left out of any part. Ken released us from the room and the players scattered to their rooms to practice. Only Ken and I remained. The closed doors of the dining hall opened, and Lady Stewart led the others into the entrance hall.

  "What news, grand playwright?" she teased.

  "I predict a grand play," he replied.

  "Are the players rehearsed so
soon?" she wondered as she glanced over our shoulders at the empty room.

  "I have faith they will perform admirably," he assured her.

  "Well, then I shan't keep myself in suspense any longer, and will retire early," she announced.

  The whole of the party retired, and Ken led me to our room. I seated myself at the foot of the bed and studied him as he disrobed.

  "What is the plot?" I asked him.

  He paused and smiled at me. "Do you wish to ruin the suspense for yourself?" he teased.

  I frowned. "I wish to be in the know of your plans."

  He resumed his undressing and shook his head. "Not this time, my love. I feel it may be the last grand surprise I have for you, and I assure you you will not be the worse for not knowing."

  I sighed. "You are very cruel to your mate."

  Ken strode over to the bed and seated himself beside me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pressed me close to his side. "

  The next day sped by with the swiftness of a snail. All present thought of only the play, and I noticed Elisa was very pale. I pulled her aside after dinner and clasped her shoulders.

  "Are you well?" I whispered to her, for we were in the second floor hall.

  She hung her head and shook her head. "I am afraid I shall ruin your laird's play."

  "Ruin how?" I wondered.

  "I am terrified I shall forget my lines," she admitted.

  "Did you practice last night with Lord Cameron?" I asked her.

  She nodded. "Aye, and he believed we performed quite well, but I am not so sure. . ."

  I smiled and leaned down to catch her eyes. "If he says you were wonderful then you may believe it."

  She lifted her head and blinked at me. "You. . .you're quite sure of that?"

  I nodded. "Yes. His eyes show him to be an honest man, and you two are the perfect couple to perform the lead roles."

  Elisa bit her lip. "I am not so sure. I feel perhaps Laird Moray and yourself are better suited."

  I started back. "What makes you say so?"

  She shook her head. "I do not know. It is just a feeling."

  I tried to laugh off her suggestion, but my amusement sounded strained even to my ears. "I am sure I am not as good an actress as you are," I protested. I looped our arms together and proceeded downstairs to where many were gathered in the parlor. "But let us go down and listen to the guesses everyone has for the plot."

  CHAPTER 49

  I was to be given one more surprise, and this one of a more pleasant nature. Just before sunset found the guests and our gusts gathered in the parlor. Ken was the center of attention, for he was obstinate in refusing to divulge the entire plot of the play.