Rory looked out across the moorlands, wondering who had betrayed them so readily. How had the English know they would be burying his father at Lochrutton? Someone must have told them and shown them where they might lie in wait and take them by surprise. It was a wicked act and one for which Rory was determined to take his revenge.
They took up the grim task of collecting the bodies of the fallen clansmen. Rory mourned to see many men he counted as friends amongst them, loyal men who had died defending the clan from this cowardly attack. They carried the bodies towards Kirklinton, as Rory and Hamish brought up the rear, and the welcome sight of the castle appeared through the mist.
“Dae ye think another attack is imminent?” Rory asked, and Hamish nodded.
“The English have been determined to see us broken for years. They have bided their time. The raids were only the beginnin’, and now we have seen what wickedness they are truly capable of, Rory. Tis’ a sad thing for ye to become Laird now, but ye have already proved yerself worthy in battle,” Hamish said.
“A sad day indeed,” Rory said, shaking his head, as he looked back across the bleak moorlands, imagining an enemy army emerging from the mists at any moment.
“There is somethin’ I must tell ye,” Hamish began, but at that moment, Margaret came hurrying through the castle gates, calling for Rory.
“Your mother has taken to her bed; it is too much for her. She needs to know you are well, Rory. She cannot bear such a tragedy. Come now and show her you are alive,” Margaret said, and Rory nodded.
“Aye, come, Hamish. Our place is with the women now,” he said, hurrying after Margaret through the castle gates.
How grateful he was to have Margaret there and to know the comfort of her support. How quickly he had come to rely upon her, how much he needed her. As the castle gates closed behind them, Rory knew that his hour had come. Now, it was up to him to lead them to victory over the English and prayed for strength to endure what was to come.
Chapter Nineteen
Margaret rushed with Isla, Evie and the children back to Kirklinton, as the cries and shouts of the battle raged behind them. How terrifying it was to find themselves amid such an attack and how cowardly the Musgraves had been to attack them at their weakest.
It was clear that someone had betrayed them, but who? Margaret was terrified that Hamish would use this against her and tell of her family ties to the Musgrave’s. Surely, he would suspect her of betraying them, and what proof did she have against him? She was a Musgrave, and that would be enough for Rory to condemn her.
She knew she was vulnerable, but all she could do now was hurry with the others back to Kirklinton and await the outcome of the battle. But it was not for herself that she worried, but rather for Rory. How guilty she felt in leaving him behind to face their enemies, while she and the other women fled.
Margaret had proved herself well enough in battle and had saved Rory’s life on the road to Lanercost. But she had to watch helplessly from afar as she chanced a glance back and saw Rory in the battle, his sword clashing with her father’s soldiers. She could only hate and despise them for what they had done on this the darkest of days for the Elliott clan.
Back at Kirklinton, Isla had taken to her bed. She was terrified at the prospect of losing Rory on the same day she had buried her beloved husband. Margaret and Evie had done their best to settle her, while Owen and Duncan now sat with her, as Margaret hurried to find Rory.
How relieved she had been to see him emerging from the mist, bruised and bloodied, but very much alive. Many Elliott soldiers had been killed, and, as they limped into the courtyard, it was with a heavy heart that she realized their danger had only just begun.
“She must see you at once,” Margaret repeated as she, Rory, and Hamish hurried up the spiral staircase towards Isla’s chambers.
“I am very much alive, but the one who has betrayed us will soon find the end of my sword an unwelcome thing,” Rory said, as he followed after her.
Margaret caught the eye of Hamish, who scowled at her with a look of such hatred that she could only think her fate sealed. If only he would see reason and know that she could not possibly have betrayed them. Her loyalty and love for Rory were unquestionable, but it seemed that Hamish would not believe that any Musgrave could have such a total change of heart as to abandon their old ways entirely.
“Here he is, mother, tis’ all right, see, he is alive,” Evie said, as they burst through the door.
Isla was sitting propped up in bed, her face anxious and withdrawn. She had been crying, and Evie held a cup of steaming liquid to her lips, urging her to drink. At the sight of Rory, her face brightened, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Rory, what news dae ye have? The clansmen? Oh, how grateful I am to see ye,” she said, as Rory hurried to her bedside.
“Many of the men were killed, many of my father’s best men. But we have driven the English back and wreaked revenge for their cowardly attack,” Rory said, as he knelt at his mother’s bedside.
“And for that, may God bless ye,” she said, shaking her head.
“And yet we still have a traitor in our midst,” Rory said, looking around at the others.
Owen and Duncan stood at Isla’s side, with Evie sat close and the children at her feet. Hamish stood at the end of the bed, and Margaret stood behind Rory. She could feel her heart beginning to beat faster, and her hands were shaking, for she knew what Hamish was thinking. Did she dare to look at him, to plead for his mercy and lenience? Now was not the time for such revelations, for they would surely harm them all, not only Margaret.
“But who would dae such a thing? Who would betray us? It was someone who knew yer father’s burial would take place today. They waited for it and struck us at our weakest. Tis’ only a coward who would dare dae such a thing,” Isla said, and the others murmured their agreement.
“We must find them,” Rory said, turning to Hamish, who nodded.
“But what are we to dae? Question every man and woman in the castle?” Evie asked, but at that moment, Hamish interrupted her.
“There is nay need to question anyone but those in this room,” he said, as Rory looked in astonishment.
“What dae ye mean?” he asked.
Margaret felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck her. She longed to flee, or for a hole to open up and swallow her deep into the ground. Anything would be preferable to what would happen next. She turned to Hamish, her eyes imploring and desperate. But he kept his eyes fixed firmly upon Rory, as he nodded and placed his hand upon his sword-hilt.
“There is a liar in our midst, hidin’ in full sight,” he said, as Isla gasped.
“Hamish? What is the meanin’ of this?” she asked, as Hamish drew his sword and pointed it towards Margaret.
“Her, Margaret, our dear, Margaret,” he said, as Rory turned to Margaret in horror.
“Hamish, what is the meanin’ of this? Ye cannae accuse Margaret like that. What proof dae ye have? She is nay liar,” Rory said, but Hamish shook his head.
“Dae ye know who she is, Rory? Dae ye really know who she is?” Hamish said as Margaret began to cry.
“I daenae … she is an orphan, and she saved mine and my uncle’s life. That is what I know?” Rory said.
“A liar is capable of good deeds at times, even of seduction. A Musgrave has blinded ye,” Hamish said.
At these words, there was a stunned silence. All eyes now turned upon Margaret, who stepped back in horror, her darkest secret now revealed.
“A Musgrave? What?” Rory said, and Hamish nodded.
“Aye, her parents did nay die in a fire, Rory. She escaped from the Musgraves when forced into a marriage, or so she says. I knew her the moment I first laid eyes upon her. She has the look of the Musgraves to her, and I, for one should know,” he said.
“A Musgrave?” Evie said, staring hard at Margaret, her face turning to such anger and hatred that Margaret was terrified.
“The sister of our dear f
riend Isabella, she has the same look, and it seems the cunnin’ and deceitfulness of her namesake,” Hamish said, still pointing his sword towards Margaret, who drew back against the wall, as Rory advanced upon her.
“Tell me, tis’ nae true. Tell me that ye are nay a Musgrave, Margaret,” he said, his voice sounding desperate and pleading.
But all she could do was shake her head, as tears ran down her cheeks.
“What he says is true, but what he believes is not,” she said, wiping away the tears and looking from Rory to the others and back.
“Ye are Isabella’s sister?” Rory said, and Margaret nodded.
“A curse upon her, brother,” Evie cried as the children hid behind her, looking on in disbelief and amazement.
“I am the sister of Isabella Musgrave, yes,” Margaret said, as Isla let out a cry of anguish.
“We have welcomed our most bitter enemy into our midst,” she cried.
“But I am no enemy of yours,” Margaret said, “I escaped from the Musgraves. I hate them; I hate my father for what he tried to force me into and my sister for her cruel and wicked ways. I am no traitor, you must believe me, Rory,” she said, stepping forward and reaching for his hand.
But he pulled away in utter disbelief. The others, too, now looked at her entirely differently, even Duncan shook his head and lowered his eyes. Suddenly, she felt all alone, abandoned by the family she thought she had gained, alone because of who she was and with no thought to whom she had become.
“Tis’ a sad thing to say, but we cannae trust her, who else would have betrayed us? ,” Hamish said, shaking his head, “how easy it was for her to work her way into our midst. I daenae blame ye, Rory, a woman’s ways can be subtle and poisonous, and she has poisoned yer mind. But nay Musgrave can be trusted, we each of us here know that well enough. It was at the hands of her sister that my dear Evie nearly perished and at the hands of Sir Percy Musgrave that our dearest Isla came close to death. Will we stand here and allow this woman in our midst any longer? Her words are false, she had lied to ye, and I only wish I had revealed this secret to ye earlier,” Hamish said.
“But why did ye nae tell us sooner, Hamish?” Evie asked, and Hamish shook his head.
“I gave her a chance, didnae I?” he said, and Margaret nodded.
“I was going to tell you, Rory,” she whispered, but Rory shook his head, his face now set in anger.
“When were ye to tell me? When our vows pronounced and ye, and I were wedded? When our first child was born, and ye were mistress of this castle? A Musgrave in our midst, my dear father, will be turnin’ in his grave, though tis’ only fresh today. Tell me, have ye betrayed us? At least tell the truth,” Rory said, tears in his eyes as he looked up at Margaret, who stared imploringly back at him.
“Rory, search your heart. You know I have not betrayed you. I love you; I love you all. I am sorry for who I am. It is not who I choose to be. I ran away from my family and refused to marry the man they chose for me. I would gladly never see them again. I rescued you and your uncle upon the road, and all I have done ever since is to be a loyal and faithful guest in this castle. I love you, Rory, and that love is genuine, sincere and filled with truth. You must believe me,” Margaret said, desperate to hear his words of forgiveness.
“I cannae bear this,” Rory said, “I cannae bear to know this. I need to be alone,” and with that, he rushed from the room, leaving Margaret facing the others, tears running down her cheeks.
“So, the sister of Isabella is before us, and what are we to dae with her?” Evie said, stepping around Isla’s bed to come face to face with Margaret.
“Please, Evie. You and I have been friends and good to one another,” Margaret began, but Evie shook her head.
“How can ye talk of goodness when all ye have kept such a dark secret. ? I trusted ye, Margaret. I thought I knew ye. I wanted to welcome ye, for I believed ye had suffered much. But now it seems that ye have betrayed that trust. Who else but ye would be able to pass such knowledge to the Musgraves? Tis’ only one who is guilty here, Margaret and tis’ ye,” Evie said.
“Evie, please. Isla, will you not see that I have not done this. Will none of you see?” Margaret said, falling to her knees and begging them.
“This family has been through enough at the hands of the Musgraves,” Duncan said, his head still bowed.
“And she shall be punished for her part in it. To allow my father’s burial to be attacked and innocent lives to be lost. The lives of those whom my father counted as friends, his soldiers. Nay, that is unforgivable,” Evie said.
“She must be thrown into the dungeons until we decide what to dae with her,” Isla said.
Margaret let out a cry, the harshness of Isla’s words too much to bear. She knew she had lied, but what choice had she? She was merely the victim of her name. A misfortune she could hardly avoid. Yes, she had Musgrave blood flowing in her, but she was no Musgrave. Her heart was that of an Elliott, and whatever might now befall her, she would remain an Elliott and would love them still.
“Call for the soldiers,” Evie said, and Hamish ran to the door and summoned guards from below.
“You must listen to me. It is not I who have betrayed you. I love Rory, and I want to marry him,” Margaret said, as the soldiers came and took her by the arms.
“And ye think he could still love ye now he knows who ye truly are?” Evie said, shaking her head.
“There is more to a person than a name. Search your heart and see, Evie. You too knew what it was to find forbidden love, you too, Isla. The history of this clan is written in forbidden love. Mine for Rory is no different. What would I have to gain from this? Only sorrow and heartache, as I have surely done. Please, let me go if that is your wish,” Margaret said, but Evie shook her head.
“And run back to the Musgraves with further tales? I think nae, Margaret. Ye have done enough wickedness. Throw her in the dungeon and be done with her. We have more important matters to see to,” Evie said, and with a wave of her hand, she dismissed Margaret, as the soldiers dragged her from the room.
Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she cried out in terror as they pulled her roughly towards the dungeons. She had never felt so alone, so desperate and filled with grief. The soldiers did not speak, they merely threw her through the cell door, and she fell hard upon the cold, stone floor. The door slammed behind her, the key turned in the lock, and she was alone in the darkness.
“Please,” she cried out, “please, Rory, you must believe me. Will someone not believe me? I am no traitor.”
But no answer came, only the scurrying of the dungeon rats and the moans of other prisoners. She was alone, and it seemed no one would believe or take her word. She began to weep, huddling in a corner and pulling her shawl tightly around her. How quickly she had fallen from grace and found herself at the mercies of the only people she had ever truly loved.
Chapter Twenty
Rory slumped on the grass in the castle garden and put his head into his hands. He could not believe how foolish he had been. To think that he had been taken in by a Musgrave, welcomed her, and fallen in love with her. It was a betrayal of his clan, of everything he held dear, his judgment was that of a fool, and he felt ashamed.
He cursed the name of Musgrave, his fists clenched, striking out in anger at nothing as he rolled back on the grass and let out a yell of frustration. How he wished his father were still alive and that the burden he now felt could be lifted. What were they to do? The English would surely return, and even the walls of Kirklinton might not be enough to hold them back. Thanks to Margaret, they would know everything. He had allowed himself to be betrayed, a fact for which he could never forgive himself.
“She is in the dungeons, Rory,” Hamish called out, and Rory looked up to see his brother in law striding across the grass towards him.
“But that doesnae help our predicament now, Hamish. She has already betrayed us. The English must know all there is to know of this castle, of our men, our weapons, our
strength. I have been nothin’, but a fool, a fool for love,” Rory said, shaking his head.
Hamish came to sit next to him on the grass, his expression ponderous.
“She denies it well enough,” he said, and Rory looked at him in surprise.
“Ye daenae believe that she is the traitor in our midst? Then who else?” he asked.
“I knew I recognized her the moment I lay eyes upon her. I have spent enough time in the company of Isabella Musgrave to know that look. I confronted her on that evening when yer father held the feast here, and I found ye and her together in the gardens. On that night, I told her that I would expose her unless she told ye herself. I wouldnae have allowed the two of ye to marry if the truth hadnae been known,” Hamish said.
“And she agreed to that?” Rory asked.
A Highlander Marked by Fate: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Highlanders of Kirklinton Book 3) Page 19