They had fought countless times before on the same side but never against each other. Friend or foe, it did not matter. The instinct to master the other took over. Locked together in combat they traded blow for blow. Matthew knocked Ribble against the wall of the cave with a right jab to his midsection. Ribble bounced back and landed an equally effective upper cut to Matthew’s jaw, sending him to the floor. Matthew came back and grabbed Ribble by his coat, pushing him backwards. His valet stumbled and both men fell to the floor. They rolled apart and came up swinging.
When finally both were exhausted, they fell apart to catch their breath. Matthew leaned against the wall to steady himself, and Ribble did the same on the opposite wall. They glared at each other like two mountain goats ready to butt heads. Matthew held up his hand in an effort to stop before he rushed him again.
“Do ye give up then? Do ye take back yer poisonous words?” Ribble stood close to Matthew. His words had fallen from between clenched teeth.
“I do not! You’re the one who should apologize to me. I never took you for one whose loyalties could be turned by a pretty face,” Matthew sneered.
Ribble’s huge, weather-beaten hands grabbed the lapels of Matthew’s coat and with brute force half-dragged, half-carried him to the other side of the room. The two friends stared at each other for some time before Ribble finally released him.
“I’ll be back for ye tonight,” he called over his shoulder and turned to leave.
“Send word to the ship to leave without me. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going.” The words were out of Matthew’s mouth before he realized he said them. He seemed to be acting beyond his own control.
Ribble turned around in surprise. “Ye have ta go. I’ve made the arrangements. I heard one of the redcoats talking, and he said Hamilton’s men will be here in force by tomorrow night. They’ll search every nook and cranny on this island. Ye’ll no longer be safe here.”
“I’m going after her. If she’s in Hamilton’s company, then I’ll kill them both,” Matthew said icily.
Ribble permitted just the hint of a smile to cross his face. He slapped his leg and said, “In that case, I’ll be goin’ with ye. I’ll be comin’ around the point about nightfall. Watch for my signal then swim out to me.”
Matthew nodded his head sharply in agreement, and a temporary truce was called. After Ribble left, he sat down in a corner of his cave, exhausted. He stewed for some time before he stood up and began to pace again. He kicked anything in his path. He cursed himself for a fool and threw Julie in for good measure.
He and Ribble had never exchanged an angry word or raised a hand to one another in anything other than friendship. For as long as he could remember, Ribble had been there. The day passed slowly, leaving Matthew in a morass of thoughts. He paced the cave from front to back and side to side. He tried to keep watch, but he could not concentrate. Exhausted, he finally sat at the entrance of the cave and waited for night to come.
When night fell, Ribble’s signal glowed as he rounded the point. Matthew immediately stripped and put his clothes and boots in an oilskin sack along with his broadsword and dirk. He tied the sack to his back and quickly made his way down the cliff. He plunged into the icy cold waters and began to swim.
A shot buzzed past his shoulder and sank into the water less than a foot in front of him. Shouts echoed from the shore, but Matthew could not make out what they shouted at him. He swam harder, and the muscles of his arms and shoulders burned. He continued to swim quickly toward Ribble and the boat. Exhaustion weighed him down when he finally accomplished his task. Ribble reached out and pulled him on board. Matthew lay where he fell, catching his breath while Ribble hoisted a black sail.
“There’s no time to rest. Hamilton’s men will be on us soon enough. Our sails are full. I think we’ll beat them to the mainland.” When they came in sight of the shore, Ribble grabbed Matthew’s arm. “Look, my lord, they've got men waiting for us.” His words were barely audible above the crashing of the waves.
“Aye, that’s going to make our landing place all the more difficult. They wouldn’t be expecting us to land at Calamity Point. There has never been a need to defend that section of shoreline,” Matthew shouted in Ribble’s ear.
“Aye, and with good reason. The rocks and strong swirling current make it next to impossible to keep from breaking up on the rocks. We’ve no choice. We have to land and face breaking up or land safely and be captured.”
Ribble and Matthew worked as a team. Silently, they strained their muscles to the limit and fought the strong current. With desperation and strength of purpose, they came ashore.
“Ribble, let the current carry the boat back out. It’ll crash against the rocks. Let’s hope Hamilton thinks we broke up and drowned. It may only slow them down a bit before he and his men realize the ruse,” Matthew said. Ribble nodded his head in agreement.
Matthew and Ribble walked quickly, taking care to keep to the shadows and bushes.
“Where are we going?” Ribble questioned in a hoarse whisper.
“We’re going to the Charleston Inn. If anybody knows where Julie is, it would have to be Mrs. Parsons. I believe Julie went often to visit her on her days off.”
They made their way silently to the inn. Having scaled the wall surrounding the house like thieves in the night, they maneuvered their way to the back of the house. Stopping short, they were surprised to see a light on in the back parlor.
He and Ribble crept closer to the parlor window. Hamilton had beaten them there. Mrs. Parsons sat down and dissolved into tears. Geoffrey continued to badger her with loud angry words. “You can deny it all you want to, but I know you know where she is. She comes to see you all the time. This is obstruction of justice. Either you tell me where she is, or I’ll have you arrested. Do I make myself clear, madam?”
“Now, see here, Hamilton. You’ve no right to barge into our home this way and at this ungodly hour. And I might add you’ve no authority here. My mother has told you she doesn’t know where Miss Hastings is. Indeed, she’d have no way of knowing. We’ve only been back a few days ourselves from Glasgow. We inquired about her on our return, of course, but only to find she was gone. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave. I’ll not stand for your brow-beating my mum,” Robbie protested heatedly. He then walked over to the door and opened it for Geoffrey.
“If you’re hiding her, I’ll find out. You haven’t heard the last of me. I will be back with a warrant.” Geoffrey’s blustering had no effect on Robbie. He insisted they leave, and be quick about it.
Robbie sat down beside his mother and put his arm around her. After making certain Geoffrey was no longer a threat, Matthew knocked on the door before entering and making their way to the parlor.
Matthew crossed quickly to where Mrs. Parsons sat and took her hands in his. Mrs. Parsons seemed to calm down immediately. “Mrs. Parsons, I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but time is short. Please, do you have any idea where Miss Hastings might go?”
“What’s Miss Hastings done? Is she in some kind of trouble? Please tell me. Dr Hamilton was here trying to find out the same thing, but he wouldn’t tell us why,” Mrs. Parsons said in a rush. A frown marred her features as she looked from one to the other.
“I can’t answer for Dr. Hamilton, but I have to find her before he does. She said something about an aunt sending her Christmas presents. I think she may have gone there. Please try to remember, Mrs. Parsons. She told Ribble the name, but he can’t seem to remember,” Matthew urged.
“Yes, she did talk about an aunt once. I don’t remember her name or where she lived though,” Mrs. Parsons said distractedly.
Matthew continued to hold her hand. “Please try, it’s truly important.”
“Just a moment, perhaps it will come back to me.”
Mrs. Parsons’ frown increased before she spoke again. “Lady Catherine Blaine, I think. Miss Hastings’ father always called her Kitty. She married Lord Blaine, or Blair. I’m not sure, but I think
it was Blair. It’s all coming back to me now. I still can’t remember where she lived. I know it was somewhere on the east coast, but I’m not sure where. Dearie me, I think it could have been Aberdeen, but I’m not sure. I’m sorry, I’m not being much help.”
“It’s more than I had a few minutes ago. At least I have a place to start looking.” Matthew sat quietly by Mrs. Parsons’ side, lost in thought.
Robbie cleared his throat. Mrs. Parsons’ son looked uncomfortable. “Your lordship, aren’t you wanted by the king?” Robbie asked pointedly.
“Yes, and most particularly by that piece of maggot bait that just left here,” Matthew said angrily.
“Consider, my lord, I don’t know the political leanings of our servants, but all this racket must have roused the soundest sleeper. We only have one guest at this time, and I think we can fob him off. Begging your pardon, my lord, I think it best if you leave us with the utmost haste.”
“Yes, of course. If I’ve put you in danger by coming here, I’m sorry.”
Matthew looked earnestly at Mrs. Parsons and Robbie. Robbie shook his head with a hint of a smile. Matthew continued, “Mrs. Parsons, if I could impose on you still further, could we borrow two horses from your stables? I would gladly pay you for them.”
“That won’t be necessary. Take the horses, just do me the favor of leaving quietly,” Robbie persisted.
They followed Robbie outside to the stables where two horses were saddled quickly. With nothing more than a handshake, Matthew and Ribble were on their way. Ribble remembered the direction Julie had started to take before he’d waylaid her, and they too headed east up the trackway.
They rode on through the night, stopping just before daybreak. It would not be safe for them to be seen even this far away from Gairloch. As the sun came up, they searched for a place to rest their horses and pass the time until nightfall. Ribble stood watch while fishing for their dinner. At noon, Matthew took over the watch and the fishing. By late afternoon, the horses had their fill of grass. Ribble and Matthew were full of fish and fried bread. Ribble had purloined some bacon and flour from Mrs. Parsons’ larder on his way to the stables.
Their quarrel was not mended, only postponed.
At dusk, they saddled up and were on their way again. The rain started just after sundown and continued to drizzle. At the height of the storm, they took refuge under an outcropping of rocks along the path.
“I can’t imagine what she could be thinking to come this way, if she did. Anything could happen,” Matthew said more to himself than to Ribble.
“Aye, ’twas foolhardy, but if anyone could make it, it would be the lass,” Ribble said with admiration coming through his voice.
“You sound almost proud. Am I the only one with any common sense? I don’t even know why we’re out here,” Matthew said angrily.
“Dinnae ye ken what ye’re doing here?” Ribble said with a grin.
“No, I don’t ken,” Matthew mimicked back.
“Then ye’re more foolish than the lass or meself,” Ribble said with a shake of his head.
Matthew stared at his old friend. Why was he chasing a shadow across Scotland with the hounds of hell at his heels? Their marriage had no chance. It could not be mended. They were just too different. Where the weed of distrust flourished, could anything else grow?
When he did catch up with Julie, he would have the marriage annulled. No one would be the wiser. They both could get on with their lives. Even as he thought about giving Julie up, an almost unbearable gloom seemed to surround him and smother him.
I can’t love her. I can’t. She’s made a fool out of me, she’s cheated on me, and she’s turned my friend against me. So why am I out here in these godforsaken mountains looking for her?
With something that sounded like a cross between a moan and a growl, he forced his horse out into the slackening rain. They rode on through the night, conspicuously silent, like two ghosts upon the landscape.
* * *
Julie’s day had been long; she’d walked until noon and then stopped only long enough to eat her meager ration of food. The sun grew hotter as the day wore on, the rough wool of the borrowed clothes rubbed against her skin, and the shoes chafed her heels, causing blisters. The arches of her feet also ached. The grass and weeds she’d stuffed inside her shoes had worked loose. Then she’d decided to walk barefoot, but her feet were unaccustomed to the rocks in her path. She now had bruises to go with her blisters. She stopped to put her boots back on her feet, and the absurdity of her situation struck her as she looked down at her boots where they were beginning to work loose from their soles. Unbidden, laughter bubbled up in her and before she knew it, her laughter turned into tears which ran down her cheeks.
Just as abruptly as the tears came, they stopped when she realized she was out of control. She felt foolish, but at least the tears released some of the tension and renewed her strength.
Sheepishly, she stood up, wiped her eyes, and continued to hobble on her way. She walked until she could not put one foot in front of the other. She spotted another fir tree some distance from the road, and walked through an open field of heather and gorse bushes to crawl under its branches, too tired to eat. She closed her eyes and slept fitfully.
At daybreak Julie awoke with a jerk. Shaking with fear, she listened, but she could not hear a sound. Afraid to move, she kept herself glued to the spot. Hoof beats grew louder and louder, coming close to where she lay. She huddled closer to the trunk of the tree until the riders had passed by.
After devouring the last of her food and washing in a nearby stream, she began her journey again. Each day she traveled across fewer and fewer miles. Her feet slowed her down the most. They were swollen, and bled from time to time. Walking all day and sleeping on the hard, cold ground at night left the rest of her body sore and stiff when morning came. She stumbled along like a cripple until she could go no farther, then she would stop to rest a short while, and all too soon she would be on her way again. She had purchased a flask for water in the village and refilled it at every stream. At the moment water was not a concern. Julie knew she must find food, but she had not seen a single house in the last four days. The mountain she walked toward still looked as far away as ever.
I don’t appear to be gaining distance. If only I knew how many more miles to the coast. Surely I’ll be there in a day or two. Or perhaps I’ll die out here, alone and unnoticed. My flesh eaten by the wild creatures of prey and my bones bleached by the scorching sun.
Julie shook her head; she must not think that way. She had to press on. But if something did happen to her, would Matthew even notice she was gone? I can’t think this way. I must press on. When evening came, she stopped earlier than usual by a small rippling stream. She watched the fish swim by. I’m so hungry, and just look at those fish. I could almost touch them. There must be some way I could catch one.
She tried standing in the stream and thrusting her hands into the cold water as the fish swam by, but they were either too fast or too slippery for her. She remembered reading about the Indians in the colonies and how they speared their fish. She found a sturdy stick and took one of her shoelaces and bound her knife to the stick, making a spear. She tried and tried, but each time she came up short. In desperate frustration, she hurled the spear into the water at a fish one last time, and caught it.
Julie cleaned the fish and prepared it for her supper, but she had no fire and no way to make one. She sat down and wanted to cry, to be angry, or to throw something. In the end, her hunger overcame her fastidiousness, and she tasted the raw fish. To her surprise, she found she could eat almost anything if she were desperate enough.
She found a place to sleep and woke up the next morning once again hungry, tired, and sore. Wearily, she rose and started on her journey.
The sun reached high in the sky and beat down on her head and shoulders. Her head ached from its constant battering. She sat down in the shade of a tree to rest, and began to nod in sleep, her eyes too heavy
to stay open. She awoke to a dirty hand clamped over her mouth and her arm being twisted painfully behind her back.
She stared, terrified, into the eyes of a fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy. “Would ye look at what we got here, Allan? I do believe we got ourselves a spy.” He pushed Julie’s arm farther into her back and seemed to enjoy the pain he inflicted.
“Air ye daft, Tom? He’s no more than a bairn in his first pair of long pants. Let ’im go,” Allan ordered.
Tom let Julie go with a shove that sent her head first into the dirt. She stood up slowly with her hand full of dirt and slung it at Tom. She kicked his legs out from under him while he sputtered and tried to get the dirt out of his eyes. The sight of his friend’s predicament seemed to amuse Allan. He began to laugh. Julie looked from one lad to the other, unable to move. By this time, Tom had regained his eyesight. Allan grabbed Julie and put her behind him before a sputtering Tom could take another run at her.
“Well, what air we goin’ to do with him?” Tom asked with a sneer. “I say he’s a spy. Nobody else would be in these woods alone.”
“We’ll let Himself decide. Bring ’im along,” Allan said.
“Let who decide? Leave me alone. I’ve done nothing,” Julie shouted.
Julie found herself blindfolded and being dragged through the brush and briars until she reached the lair of an outlaw of the resistance known as Angus the Younger. He wore the kilt of his clan and sat on a large carved chair while people from the countryside filed in for his judgment on their squabbles. They deferred to him as a king in exile and treated him as such. No one questioned or argued with his decisions. His word was the final say and his wish the law.
Julie’s heart began to pound while she waited for her turn to be brought before this paragon. Allan and Tom brought her to the foot of his throne and deposited her on the ground at his feet. When she tried to get up, they pushed her down.
Rumors Among the Heather Page 17