by J. L. Jarvis
“Aye.” He interrupted her prattle. “But how are you?”
She set down her tea and looked at him candidly. “Are you sure you want truly to ken?”
He looked pointedly at her. “I would not have asked otherwise.”
She met his gaze. “I miss him. Each day I busy myself as though that could distract me.”
Duncan’s eyes softened.
As hard a man as he could be, Mari sometimes caught glimpses of a gentler nature. She said, “It’s an ache that that I dinnae want to heal. If it does, I’ll have lost him completely.”
Duncan barely talked. He did not try to cheer her. He just quietly listened.
Mari curled into her chair and spoke frankly. “And now there’s the fear. I awake in the night thinking that Kilgour is there. I ken that you all do your best to protect me, but I feel him out there in the dark, and I ken that he’s there in the daylight. I feel wicked for wishing him dead, but I do. It is wrong. But what he did was wrong, and I cannot forgive it.” Mari forced a faint smile. “So, you see, I’m becoming quite cold and heartless.”
With a soft look and a smile, Duncan said, “You could never be that.”
“And the lads try to help. But they want so much to make me happy again that I feel I must try to be so—just to please them. But I’m not. And I’m weary from pretending that I am. At night, I go into my room and I lie there and quietly weep in the dark so the lads will not hear me. And that’s how I am. I’m sorry, but you asked, and I warned you.”
“I wanted to ken. You dinnae have to pretend with me, Mari.”
She saw in his expression that he meant it. And then the tears came.
Duncan quietly sat beside her. And when she had wept herself dry of tears, he said, “There, now.” He reached out and almost smoothed her hair from her brow, but thought better of it. He stood and assumed a bright tone of voice. “It’s a bit early, I ken. But I am tall and dark. Now, mind, I’m no stranger, but I’m strange enough to make up for that.” He gave her one of his rare grins that spread into his eyes. “And I’ve brought some whisky. If I promise to step outside long enough to step in for first footing after midnight, will you take a wee dram with me, lassie? For the sake of tradition?”
“I will.” Mari smiled for what seemed like the first time in weeks.
“Easy, lass,” he cautioned a few minutes later, as she poured a second glass of whisky.
“Why, Duncan, I’ve seen you pour more than this.”
He smiled patiently. “But you are not used to strong drink.”
“No, but I think I should like to be. It warms me, and dulls the ache,” she said, taking a drink from her glass.
“Aye, it does that,” he said as lay his hand on her wrist. “But it comes back to bite you.”
Mari slipped her hand free and gave up. As she leaned her head back to rest against the chair, she turned her head to face Duncan. “I just want one night where I dinnae feel sad.”
“I ken how you feel, lass. I do.”
“No, you cannae ken how it feels to love so much that your love turns to agony.”
Her words stopped Duncan short. He let go of the bottle and leaned back in his chair, catching sight through the window of clouds in the moonlight.
Mari poured another. “Just one before I start cooking supper.”
“There’s no need to cook. The lads are bringing supper to us,” he said.
“Oh, how grand! I’m beginning to like your wild heathen traditions.”
“I can see that,” he said with a wry look.
*
Alex, Charlie, and Hughie arrived with bundles of food and drink. They refused to let Mari help. Instead, they laid out the food and set the table. And when it was ready, they brought Mari to sit as though her chair were a throne from which she could reign over them. In truth, they might have let her.
Some looks were exchanged as they saw Mari’s unnatural ebullience. All it took was a defiant glare from Duncan to shut down any discussion.
After supper, out came the fiddle, pipes, and bodhran. Mari shook her head as Charlie tried to coax her away from the wall, but he had a firm grasp of her hand. The whisky had loosened her resolve, so as Alex rolled up the rug, Mari followed Charlie to the center of the room. He taught her a few basic steps and said, “Follow me, lassie!” And they were off. Around the room they whirled. When she stepped on his foot he seemed not to notice. Mari laughed and the music was lively. Alex took a turn, and then Hugh.
Before long, Alex, Charlie, and Hugh stood at the door.
“Come with us, Mari. We’ll show you a Hogmanay you will never forget,” Alex said, kissing her cheek as he held her hands.
“I can only imagine, which is why I’m not going,” she said with a laugh.
“Och, Mari, you wound us,” said Charlie with a sigh. “Well, as you are the bonniest lass in all of Edinburgh, we shall have to settle for the second, third and fourth bonniest lassies. Well, I myself shall settle for second. These louts may fend for themselves.”
Alex laughed as he grabbed Charlie’s right arm and twisted it upward behind his back. “‘Tis a pity about your arm—not to mention your face,” he said, adding a sharp twist at the end.
Hugh chimed in. “The laugh is on you, old men. Have you not noticed the pretty ones like their men unspoilt by wrinkles?”
Alex and Charlie ceased their struggles and gaped at Hugh. A few moments passed as Mari watched, smiling. Alex looked at Charlie. Unspoken words seemed to pass between them. They both turned on Hugh, who took off running down the stairs with the other two close at his heels.
“Goodbye, dearie!” Charlie called out.
“We’ll bring breakfast,” said Alex.
“It may not get here ‘til supper, though,” Charlie added.
Shaking her head, Mari closed the door behind them. She turned back toward Duncan. “I’m fearing you drew the short straw.”
“Not so,” Duncan said, smiling.
Duncan brought the last dish to Mari. The supper dishes were clean, dried and dispensed with. “You ken,” Mari said with a twinkle, “this could destroy your reputation.”
“For you, Mari McEwan, I would risk that and more.” His smile lingered.
“It’s your good fortune, then, that I am no risk to you.”
A half smile formed as he averted his gaze.
“Shall we go sit by the fire?”
Duncan added a log, and they pulled their chairs closer. “‘Tis a cold night.”
“Aye,” answered Mari. The silence between them grew awkward. “Duncan, what troubles you? You look like you carry a burden.”
Duncan looked suddenly at her. “No, it’s no burden.”
Mari studied him. “Then what is it?”
“We’ll not speak of it now.”
“But we must. Duncan, I consider you a dear friend. If there is something that stands between us—”
“No, Mari.” His voice sounded harsh as he leapt to his feet and walked to the window. More calmly, he said, “Dinnae fash yourself. It’s nothing.”
But everything in his stance told her otherwise. “Have I done something, Duncan?” She went to stand by the window beside him. He would not look at her.
One heartbeat later, he bounded out of the door. “Bolt the door, Mari!” Down the stairs he bounded, and across the road to the wynd, where he disappeared into the shadows.
Minutes later there was a knock at the door. “Mari, it’s Duncan.”
He came in and secured the door lock. “What is it? Duncan, you’re scaring me.”
“It was nothing.”
From the look on his face, Mari knew this was far from the truth.
“I thought I saw something. I was wrong.” He turned back and smiled. “Let’s warm ourselves by the fire.”
There they sat for an hour or so, until the chimes of St. Giles began ringing in the new year. They went to the window and looked down at the street below, full of people. On the twelfth chime, people stopped an
d embraced.
“There’s a good deal of kissing down there,” Mari said.
“Another tradition,” Duncan said, standing beside her.
“We knew nothing of this growing up,” she said as she looked down below with a wistful expression. An unexpected silence filled the air between them.
Mari looked up at Duncan with a faint smile that did little to hide how she missed Callum. Duncan took her face in his hands. With a gentle smile, he bent down and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. “Happy Hogmanay.”
Mari lifted her eyes. She looked as though she might say something, but all that came out was, “Happy Hogmanay to you, Duncan.”
They turned back to the window, and Mari’s mood lightened. “Oh—I nearly forgot, Mistress Durie asked if you would stop by her apartment for first footing.” A smile lit her eyes. “She thought that since you’re so handsome, you might bring an extra measure of luck.”
A trace of a grin crept into his expression. “Oh, she did, did she? The poor woman is daft.”
“Aye. But not so daft as a man who would pay someone’s rent.” She leveled a knowing look at him.
“Och, that. It was nothing.”
“But it was something.”
“No, Callum asked us to look after the things he used to take care of.” He looked out the window and studied the crowd down below.
“I thank you, but I cannot let you keep doing things for me.”
“Even if I want to?”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“You could be.”
Mari flashed a questioning look.
Duncan hastened to add, “If you’d just let me help you. Just for now, until you ken what you want to do.”
Mari’s eyes drifted away. “I dinnae feel right about it.”
“What would Callum have wanted?”
Mari offered no answer, for she knew that Callum would have wanted just this, for her to be cared for.
Duncan said, “He would want things just so, and you ken it.”
Mari followed Duncan’s gaze to the street as her eyes filled with tears. “I dinnae ken what to say. At some point, I will need to make plans.”
“Give it time.”
Mari was troubled, but said no more about it.
With a deep breath, Duncan shook off his dark mood. “Come, lass. Shall we go see Mistress Durie?” he said with a reassuring wink.
Mari reluctantly smiled. “Aye.”
“Good. Now, we’ll need some whisky, of course, and some coal.”
Duncan gathered all that they needed to ensure the landlady’s good luck. He held the door for Mari, and the two headed on down the stairs to call on Mrs. Durie.
Chapter 19
Duncan lay asleep on the floor outside of Mari’s closed bedroom door. The knob twisted and the door to the apartment gently opened. A floorboard gave way with a creak. In an instant, Duncan clamped a tight hold onto an ankle and gave it a yank. A large body fell to the floor with a thud. After a scuffle, Duncan held the intruder pinned down with a dirk poised at his throat.
“Duncan, it’s Charlie.”
“Dammit, Duncan!” said Alex, as he gripped Duncan’s wrist.
“Dammit yourself! You woke me from a sound sleep,” Duncan complained as he released Charlie with a shove, and returned his dirk to his belt.
Charlie lifted a brow. “Did I, now? I had plans for my own peaceful slumber just before you threw me to the floor.” He sat up holding his shoulder and rotating and extending his arm for dramatic effect.
Making no apologies, Duncan said, “I was protecting the lass.”
“And a fine job you’re doing,” said Alex as he added a log to the fire’s burning embers.
Duncan cast an annoyed look toward Alex. “I was not expecting the two of you back until morning.”
“Aye,” said Charlie. “Well, on rare occasions I let a night pass without bedding a woman.”
“No one would have you, eh?” Duncan said, with a glint in his eyes.
“It was my choice,” Charlie protested.
“Aye, choice,” Alex said with a smirk.
“Well I do have my standards,” said Charlie.
“Aye, standards,” said Alex, as he poured whisky into three glasses.
“Where’s Hugh?” asked Duncan.
Alex laughed. Charlie scowled. Duncan’s face lit up with a rare ear-to-ear grin. “He’s with a woman.”
“Aye,” said Alex, smiling.
“Not just any woman,” Duncan said, studying Charlie. “But the one that you wanted,” he said with a triumphant smirk.
“Shut your gob, Duncan, or I’ll shut it for you,” said Charlie, who was in no way amused.
“Will you now?” Duncan smiled and folded his arms, standing ready.
Knowing he was no match for Duncan, Charlie shrugged and grumbled, “At the moment I’d rather drink than fight. But dinnae try my patience.”
Duncan merely grinned, having nothing to prove. After Charlie walked away to sit down, Duncan took his drink and went to the window. He leaned his shoulder against the frame and looked into the night.
Alex said, “You should have seen our Hugh tonight. The lassies all fancied him, and he looked like Charlie used to look back when the girls fancied him.” Alex was turning to smirk at Charlie when he heard something from the bedroom. “What was that?”
Duncan was first to reach the bedroom. “Mari?” He rattled the doorknob. It was locked. “Mari!” When she failed to answer, he kicked the door in.
Alex stopped at the doorway, with Charlie beside him. Mari stood on the other side of the bed facing them. Her white linen nightgown was crimson with blood. Clenched in her fist was a sgian dubh from which drops of blood fell to Lieutenant Kilgour. He lay struggling to take halting breaths. Duncan shot a look to Alex and Charlie, who moved toward Kilgour, while Duncan rounded the foot of the bed to reach Mari. Kilgour took a few halting gasps and lurched toward her. Alex reached for Kilgour just as Mari lifted her arms and sank the sgian dubh into his chest. She struggled to pull it back out, then she stabbed him again. He fell back, lifeless.
As she pulled the weapon back, Duncan slowly drew closer behind her. “Mari.” He spoke in a low, soothing voice. Firmly but gently, he gripped her wrist while he circled her waist with his other arm. “Mari, let it go, darlin’.” He spoke quietly in her ear until she let go and it dropped to the bed.
“Mari?”
She did not respond. Duncan coaxed her away from the body and into his arms.
An instant later, something caught Alex’s eye at the window. “The son of a bitch used a grappling hook to climb in through the window.”
Charlie pulled the bedding over the lifeless body. Duncan cast a dark look at the others as he circled Mari’s waist and led her out of the room, leaving the others behind to clean up.
She began to tremble as Duncan brought her to stand by the warmth of the fire. For a long while she was silent.
“I’m so cold.”
Duncan pulled her into his arms and held her, wrapping the end of his plaid about her.
Her teeth chattered. “I woke up and he was in my bed. He came in through the window.”
“I know, darlin’.”
Duncan held her tighter and cursed himself for not thinking that someone might scale the wall several floors up to the window. The thought of sleeping inside her room had been out of the question for a number of reasons, so he had decided to sleep outside of her door thinking he’d keep her from danger. He stroked Mari’s silken hair and held her head to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve been sleeping with Callum’s sgian dubh.”
“Aye.”
“I had to stop him. I had to stop him. He would have killed me just like he killed Ellen.”
“You did what you had to. You’re a brave lass.”
Duncan heard a scuffling sound and kept his arms about Mari, shielding her from the sight of Alex and Charlie carrying Kilgour away. They had
wrapped his plaid about him to cover the blood, and carried him out to the street as though he were a drunken friend who had passed out. From time to time, they passed people, most of them too drunk or tired to notice or care about the three drunks who clung to the shadows. Along the way, they gathered rocks in the folds of Kilgour’s plaid, where they tied them. They walked along the Nor’loch until they found a small boat, which they rowed out to the middle. There they rolled Kilgour’s weighted body over the edge and watched him sink into the dark water.
With that business done, they returned to the apartment and burned what they could of the bedding. What they could not clean or burn, they took back to the Nor’loch and bundled tightly with rocks, and then dropped it into the middle of the loch. They returned to find Duncan by the fire with Mari asleep in his arms.
By morning the apartment was clean of blood, except that which had dried on Mari’s nightgown.
*
Mari awoke with a start and lunged forward. “No!”
“He’ll no harm you again.” Duncan pulled her back and said softly, “He’s gone. It’s all over.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye, very sure. The lads took him away.”
She looked at Alex and Charlie, their clothes stained with Kilgour’s blood.
Alex followed her gaze and looked down at his leine. “Mari, are there any of Callum’s leines we could wear? I’d rather we not draw suspicion.”
“Aye, there are some in the bedroom.” They turned to leave, but Mari hastened to add, “Not the one hanging on the nail. I’ll get you some clean ones.”
Alex and Charlie changed into clean leines while Mari washed their plaids with a feverish vigor.
Duncan watched her with a troubled expression. “Mari, I’ll do this. Go take care of yourself.” He took over the washing. His eyes drifted down to the dried blood on her nightgown. “Get cleaned up, lass. We’ll want to burn that.”
Duncan finished washing the plaids and laid them out by the fire to dry. They were dark enough to mask any blood stains remaining, and as they were dragoons who had fought in recent battles, blood was not an unexpected sight on the men’s plaids. Mari bathed and emerged in clean clothes.