25
Beg pardon, m’lady. Did you say you wanted to offer Isobail a position as one of your lady’s maids?” Gerry asked, looking at Isobail for her reaction.
“Indeed. However, she would not just be one of my lady’s maids. She would be the only lady’s maid. I don’t enjoy having a cluster of girls fluttering about. I employ only one lady-in-waiting at a time. It is quite an honor, I can assure you, being offered a position without a formal interview. However, I’m in a hurry, and I’ll be leaving for Dòmhail in the morning and would very much like to have a new lady-in-waiting accompany me for the summer.” Lady Nuala reached for a biscuit to dip into her cup of tea as the Blyth family sat exchanging dumbfounded glances.
“Of course it is an immense honor, and we are very pleased at your interest in our Isobail, but it’s, um . . . Well, it has caught us entirely off guard,” Mary tried to explain.
“Oh, I understand completely. To be honest with you, it came as a shock to me as well, so I’ll give you time to ponder my request, but as I have said, I’ll be leaving in the morning. If you’re interested in the position, we leave at dawn. Pack just enough for the summer months, and we’ll stop back by for the rest of your belongings when we return to Allail in autumn.” Lady Nuala stood to leave. She stopped at the door and turned to Isobail. “I make offers only once. If they are refused, I offer no second chance.”
* * *
Isobail shivered involuntarily as Lady Nuala left the small farmhouse.
Gerry shut the door behind the Lady of Allail. The Blyth family sat motionless lost in thought. The small front room was so quiet they could have heard a needle fall to the floor.
“Well, now . . . ,” Gerry said, unable to finish the sentence.
“Yes, definitely something to think about,” Mary added, her head turned thoughtfully to one side.
Isobail gaped incredulously. “What is there to think about? You’ve heard the rumors about her. She must be some kind of tyrant. Surely you’re not even considering her offer?”
“Iso, were you not just in this room? She seemed perfectly nice to me. Perhaps the rumors are just that—rumors,” Gerry stated.
“Yes, Iso, she appears to be just lovely to me. Besides, we have always taught you not to judge people until you know them yourself. People start rumors for all kinds of reasons.”
“But, Mother, I don’t want to leave here. I love it here!” Isobail wailed with tears pooling in her eyes.
“We know that, dear,” Gerry soothed, “but someday you’ll leave and make your own way in this world.”
“It’s just such a wonderful opportunity, my love. You’re being given a gift. You’re being given the chance to become better,” Mary offered.
“Better than what?”
“You can be better than just a farmer’s daughter or just a farmer’s wife,” Mary said.
“What’s wrong with being a farmer’s daughter and a farmer’s wife?” Isobail demanded. “All I have ever wanted was to follow in your footsteps.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, per se, but you have the chance to better your station, to change your fate. You could create a life for yourself that’s so much better than anything Teich has to offer you. I know Blane is a good man, a hard worker, and very much in love with you, but what can he offer you? He’s the youngest son of a poor farmer. He will inherit nothing, and he can offer you nothing,” Gerry said.
“What does any of this have to do with Blane?” Isobail was suddenly defensive. What do they know about Blane? After the way things went earlier, I doubt I’ll ever see him again.
“I would wager he’ll ask you to marry him any day now, but now that you’ve been given another option. . . . Don’t get me wrong, if you decide to marry Blane, we’ll support you. You are free to do as you like, my love. Just weigh your options. Please don’t turn Lady Nuala down just because of a nice boy that can offer you nothing. The decision is yours, though. The only thing I want you to remember is that we love you no matter what you choose.” Mary hugged her daughter tightly.
“It’s hot in here, and I need some air. I’m going for a walk to clear my head.” The room felt like it was spinning, and she felt as though she might vomit. Gerry pulled open the door, and Isobail rushed out into the cool evening, gasping for air as if she had been drowning.
“Don’t be gone too long. It will be dark soon.” Gerry shut the door and left her to her thoughts.
A palace far away from home or stay here without Blane? Isobail looked up at the twilight sky for an answer. Isobail lay down in the front yard and let the lawn cool her flushed face. Her misery finally overcame her, and she rolled into the fetal position and wept into the grass.
Eventually, she sat upright and once again turned her eyes toward the heavens. “Please,” she begged, “please, just give me a sign. Tell me which path I should choose.”
She rolled onto her knees and caught sight of the moonlight glinting off something on the ground by the front door. Isobail hauled herself to her feet to see what was causing the white glow. She bent and picked up a small piece of parchment. It was folded in thirds and her name was scrawled across it. With trembling fingers she unfolded the note and read it slowly.
My dearest Iso,
After our conversation this morning, I have come to realize that there is no reason for me to remain here. I am the last son of a poor farmer and, as such, stand to inherit nothing. I have nothing to offer you except my love, and as that does not seem to be enough, I have decided that it is time I try to make my own way in this world. I need to change my fortune, or at the very least try. I love you so very much and wish you all the happiness that this world has to offer, but I cannot stay and watch you marry another and bear his children, because you will always be the owner of my heart. I'm going to Iasg to try and find work on a fishing boat. By the time you read this, I'll already be gone, so please do not try to stop me-there will be no point. And please do not feel bad for me because loving you is what gets me out of bed every morning and thinking of you is what fills my lungs with air and gives will to my whole life.
Yours eternally,
Blane Andersone
Isobail’s tears fell anew as she crushed the letter to her chest and sank to her knees.
26
After lying for several hours in the front yard, Isobail went in to bed without a word to her parents. It had been the longest night of her life, and in the end Isobail had decided to take Lady Nuala up on her offer. Now as she handed the last of her bags to the carriage driver, she felt numb, sort of detached. She hugged her parents, said good-bye, stepped into the carriage, and took her seat opposite Lady Nuala.
“Isobail is going to be all right, isn’t she?” Mary asked as Gerry wrapped his arms protectively around her.
“She’s going to do great,” he soothed as they went inside the house.
* * *
The horse pounded a steady rhythm as it galloped toward Teich. Blane was unsure as to why he was racing back home. He had been gone since just after midnight, but the farther he got away, the uneasier he became. He wasn’t nervous about a new place or a new life. In fact, he wasn’t nervous for himself at all. He felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing in Teich, and he couldn’t ignore the feeling anymore.
Blane reached the Andersone farm just before the sun broke the eastern horizon. He took the horse to the barn to let it rest and eat. He wandered around the house and found everything as it should be. He was becoming more and more confused as to why he had come rushing home. Scratching his head, he lay down on a bale of hay. Just as he closed his eyes to rest, he had the unmistakable impression that Isobail needed him. Jumping back up, he ran toward the Blyths’ farm.
There was a strange shadow in front of the small farmhouse as Blane came up the road that ran between the two farms. As he got closer he realized there was a carriage waiting there. The front door opened, and he ducked behind the blackthorn bushes. A woman dressed in t
he finest clothes Blane had ever seen came out of the house first, followed by Isobail, and then her parents. The woman was familiar to Blane even though he was certain he had never met her. She had raven-black hair that was pulled into a bun at the base of her long alabaster neck, but it was her eyes that caught his attention: they were large and green like emeralds glinting in the pale morning sun. They were Isobail’s eyes.
“Ouch,” he whispered as thorns dug into his chest. He hadn’t realized he was leaning so far forward, mesmerized by the mysterious stranger. Who is she? Where did she come from? Why is Isobail getting in her carriage and why is she carrying bags? Why does she have the same eyes as Isobail? Before he realized what was going on, the driver cracked a whip and the gorgeous carriage pulled away from the Blyth farm.
“Mr. and Mrs. Blyth!” Blane burst out of the bushes, causing the Blyths to jump.
“Oh, Blane, you startled me! What are you doing here?” Mary asked, visibly relaxing.
“I . . .” He didn’t really have an answer. “I don’t really know. I just felt like I needed to be here. Who was that and where was Isobail going with her?”
“Blane,” Mr. Blyth said, his voice full of sorrow, “that was Lady Nuala of Allail, and she has offered Isobail the position of lady-in-waiting, and Iso has accepted. They’re on their way to Dòmhail for the summer months. Would you like to come inside, son? You don’t look too good. Blane?”
Blane wasn’t listening anymore; Brian’s words came flooding into his memory. She was the most stunning woman I had ever laid my eyes on. Her hair was a beautiful raven black; her eyes were the color of the emeralds worn by royalty. Her skin was like flawless alabaster. I was a goner the minute I saw her. She was traveling to Allail to live with her aunt . . .
Blane cursed, then turned and ran to get his horse.
“Blane?” the Blyths called in unison.
“It’s her. She’s come for Isobail. I have to get Brian!” Blane yelled over his shoulder.
Gerry and Mary exchanged a long stare before they went back into the house to get on with the daily chores.
* * *
Brian was sitting on the familiar stool in the corner of the inn dining room staring a plate of haggis.
“What’s the matter? Aren’t you hungry this mornin’?” Dolidh asked in her brusque manner.
“Something just isn’t right, Dolidh. Something just seems wrong.”
Dolidh bristled at his criticism. “The food is the same as always. Now eat up. You need to keep up your strength.”
“Not the food. It’s as good as ever! Something else just doesn’t seem right. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know . . . maybe I’m just an old fool.” Suddenly the door burst open, blinding Brian. When his eyes adjusted to the light, Blane Andersone was standing in the doorway.
“In or out! Don’t just stand there letting the flies in!” Dolidh chided.
“I-I-I’m sorry. I was looking for somebody that lives here, but I don’t know where he lives and I was hoping you could help me find him.” Blane stumbled over words, appearing a bit shaken by Dolidh.
“Well, what’s his name, boy, or do you expect me to guess?” Blane could see Dolidh was losing her patience.
“Leave the boy alone, Dolidh. He’s looking for me. Aren’t you, Blane?” Brian stood from his shadowy corner.
“Oh, Brian, I’m so glad to see you. She’s a little scary.” Blane pointed to Dolidh’s stout backside retreating to the kitchen.
“Ehh, her bark is worse than her bite. She’s actually very nice once you get to know her. Now what brings you here? I thought you were going off to become a fisherman.”
“I was halfway there when I got the feeling I needed to turn around and go home, so I did. When I got there I found Isobail getting into the carriage of a Lady Nuala of Allail. I asked her parents where she was going, and they said she’s going to Dòmhail with her as her lady-in-waiting.”
“That’s awful!” Brian said. “I’ve heard rumors about the Lady of Allail. Servants in her employ have been known to disappear. There are even those that think she killed her father too.”
“That’s not the worst part.”
“It’s not?”
“No. I saw Lady Nuala this morning. She is beautiful with black hair and green eyes. Brian, she matches the description you gave me of Moira. I think Moira is Lady Nuala. And I don’t think she came back to reconnect with her long-lost daughter. She doesn’t exactly seem motherly. I think Isobail may be in trouble.” Blane sank helplessly down onto a stool as he finished.
“No, no, she definitely didn’t come to reconnect. Knowing Moira—if she is Moira—someone probably found out about her past and now she’s trying to cover it up.”
Blane sat up alarmed. “Cover it up how?”
“Cover it up by getting rid of it. You know, come to think of it, Barra—that’s Dolidh’s husband—said that some lady came by here a few days ago looking for me too. You know what, Blane? I think you might just be right. I think Moira or Lady Nuala is looking to get rid of her past mistakes.”
“What will she do? How will she get rid of her mistake?” The room began to spin and Blane knew the answer before Brian said it.
“Murder.”
27
As Lord Niall Conell rounded a bend in the road, Dòmhail Castle materialized through the gray morning fog. Narrowing his eyes to get a better look at the cold stony edifice on the side of a cliff, Conell thought it was a fitting setting for his plan. He felt as if he were teetering on the edge of a cliff: on one hand, he could be completely successful and live out the rest of his days in peace, or he could stumble slightly and fall off the crag into the jagged rocks below. Swallowing the fear that threatened to strangle him, he drove the heels of his boots into his gelding’s flanks and pushed the already tired animal to charge up the hill to the sleeping fortress.
The horse began to stumble from fatigue as Lord Niall got to the base of the cobblestone bridge leading into the main gate of Dòmhail Castle. With pity for the animal that had served him faithfully, he slid from the saddle and led the sweat-drenched horse slowly through the entrance into the courtyard. It was eerie without the daily commotion and crowds. Exhaustion was setting in rapidly now that Lord Niall was sure he had the element of surprise on his side. If he was to carry out his plan, he needed to be well rested so he could think clearly. He was confident he would succeed; he was Niall Conell, after all. He was royalty; he was a nobleman. A nobleman that always got what he wanted regardless of the cost. He made his way to the stables, which were behind and to the left of the kitchens. Horse and master both drank deeply from the trough and slept in the same stall.
* * *
“Is ’e dead?”
“Nah, I’ve ’eard ’im snorin’ off an’ on.”
Lord Niall’s body protested as he sat up. “Oh,” he said, rubbing his lower back and opening his eyes. Two young men stood looking at him with wide eyes. “Where am I?” He tried to remember where he had fallen asleep.
“Yer in the horse stalls of the stable at Dòmhail Castle,” the younger one said quietly as he stepped behind the other one.
“So I am. May I ask whose company I am in this lovely morning?”
“I don’ understand yer question, but it’s afternoon, um . . . my lord?” the younger one answered, shrinking further back when his friend gave him a dirty look.
“Who are you, my boy? I said, who are you?” Niall asked, annoyed at the boy’s honesty.
“My name’s Derby. I’m apprentice stable master and this,” the older boy said, gesturing behind his back, “is my younger brother, Derry. He’s the stable boy and hasn’t yet learned his place, my lord.” Derby offered a stiff bow, causing his greasy hair to fall over his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder and pulled the front of Derry’s filthy tunic until he was bowing too.
“Stand. If you tell anyone I was sleeping with the livestock, I will have your hide. I’m hardly acting prop
erly and you need not tell anyone.” Lord Niall smiled cruelly. He was feeling much better after getting some rest. “Just curious, how did you know the blood of nobility runs through my veins?”
“Your horse, for one.” Derby pointed to the large animal now munching on hay. “And your clothes. They may be your travel clothes and full of the road’s dust, but they are still finer than anything we peasants ever wear.”
“Oh, I see.” Lord Conell attempted to smooth his tangled main of blond hair, suddenly self-conscious of his appearance. Even if he was on a mission to destroy Lady Nuala, he must remember he was still royalty.
“Plus yer handsome,” Derry blurted out, receiving a smack to the back of the head from Derby.
“Not unless they address you first! How many times have I told you?” Derby turned his hands palm up to Lord Niall. “I’m sorry, my lord. I’m trying to teach him. Please forgive his foolishness. He’s still young.”
“You have manners. Good for you. I am offended; however, I’m in a hurry so I’ll let it slide,” he said, slapping Derby on the shoulder. Turning his attention to Derry, he asked, “What does my being handsome have to do with being a royal?”
“Oh, they, er, you all are handsome. No ugly one has showed up yet!”
Lord Niall laughed. “Well, you’ve got me there. Now, Derry, I can tell that you see everything. Tell me, have you seen everyone that has arrived?” When the boy nodded his dirt-colored head, Lord Niall continued. “Have you seen a woman that is more beautiful than the sunset over the ocean? She has hair black as night, eyes the color of the emeralds she wears on her fingers, and skin white as winter snow. Her name is Lady Nuala, and I am to meet her here. Has such a woman arrived yet?”
Derry scrunched up his face in thought. “No, I think I’d remember if I saw her.”
“No, my lord. She hasn’t arrived yet. Her messenger arrived around midnight and said she had run into some trouble on the road and stopped for the night somewhere else. But she should be here in the next few hours,” Derby said.
Midnight Runner: A Novel Page 15