by Barbara Bard
Chapter 6
Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief as she heard people convince themselves that Lady Catherine had acted alone. She did not like the idea of letting Lady Catherine take the blame, but she was one person who would not have to be punished for the crime of letting a criminal escape, while Rebecca would. Unless anyone asked her otherwise, Rebecca decided that it would be best to let people think that Catherine was responsible for all of it.
“You men always think that women only think with their hearts. We are not such timid creatures you know,” Stephanie said.
“Indeed,” Owen said, arching his eyebrows, “which is why I am sure that Catherine did leave. Even if she did not love this Highlander, she may well have used him as a means to escape. He would surely protect her in the woods, for I have no doubt that a savage like him would be enchanted by such a delicate beauty as the Lady Catherine. It was a very shrewd move by her. I know many of you think that she’s a harmless girl, but she’s every bit her father's daughter. Cold, calculating, and heartless.”
“What are you saying?” Adam asked, his face lined with horror at the thought that anyone would speak of a lady in that manner. Owen was in full flow now however, words flowing from his mouth like smooth honey. His eyes prowled the room. For one instant they settled on Rebecca's. She turned away, not wanting any attention to be placed upon her. Elayne had relaxed her grip on Rebecca's arm, but Rebecca actually missed the pain. It was a distraction from the turbulent feelings that swirled inside her stomach and made her feel as though she was going to throw up the contents all over the stone floor.
“How could you speak about Lady Catherine in such a manner!” Adam said, shocked.
Owen gave him a withering look. “Think about it logically. If you were in Catherine's shoes and you had been through everything she has been through, what would you do? She has been carted off to the Highlands by her brother, lied to by someone she thought was a friend, then she had to witness her brother being killed and then held prisoner. She managed to make it back home only to find that her father had agree to marry her off to a man that, with all due respect, is not going to stir a wild heart such as hers,” Owen said. Everyone was paying attention to him.
“Now then, if you wanted to get out of such a marriage what would you do? We all know that Lord Athelred would not listen to her if she were unhappy. He'd simply tell her that this was the decision and she should make the best of it. But having been through everything that she had, do you really think she would settle for a life like that? Or would she devise a plan where she could escape? She could play on the feelings of a Highlander and promise him the world, using him for protection against the elements as she made her way away from the estate. If she's saved by the guards, she has an easy excuse in saying that the Highlander made her do it, perhaps by threatening her or some such, which is a somewhat flimsy excuse, but I'm sure would be believed by her father.”
“I fail to see how this could free her of the betrothal,” Adam said dismissively. Owen smiled hungrily. The gleam in his eye told Rebecca that he liked these kinds of debates and relished the thought of putting one over on an opponent.
“Because if she returns, she can claim that the Highlander ravished her. The intended husband would not want to marry an impure wife, especially not one whose virtue has been taken away by a Highlander. She would be free, and she would have another opportunity to escape later on,” Owen said, smiling gleefully, as though he had just proven his case.
It gave them all much to think about, although Stephanie had just one last question.
“And what if she is not captured? What if she escapes with the Highlander? How is she to be rid of him?”
Owen licked his lips. “Lady Catherine is resourceful. I am sure that man would never suspect her of being able to do anything deadly. I am sure that during the night should some dagger find its way across his throat, no one would be surprised. As I said before, she has much of her father in her.”
To Rebecca's surprise many people were nodding along, agreeing with Owen's estimation of things. However, she thought that this was due to the smooth and convincing way in which he presented his thoughts rather than the basis in fact.
“He makes sense,” Elayne said.
Rebecca looked around at all of them and felt horrible that they would think of Lady Catherine in this way. She was such a kind, gentle creature. Owen was presenting her as a conniving, malevolent girl just because her father and brother showed those same qualities. Rebecca knew that they were misplaced, she had seen Catherine and Declan together. She had heard the desperation in Catherine's voice and seen how badly she wanted to help Declan escape, all because she loved him.
There was no doubt in Rebecca's mind that Catherine and Declan were truly in love, even though it seemed strange to her that Catherine could love a Highlander. Nobody else here knew the truth. Nobody else knew that Catherine had been willing to stay, and it was only because Declan had implored her to leave that she eventually went with him, even though Catherine knew that her father would send people after them.
It placed Rebecca in the strange position of having to have all this knowledge while not being able to share it. The truth would condemn her and Catherine, yet it was so hard to hear Catherine's name besmirched like this. It took all of Rebecca's willpower to stop herself from screaming the truth, and it was one of the hardest things she had ever done.
She spared a thought for Catherine, hoping that the girl was out there and free. The last thing Rebecca wanted was to see Catherine return to this place. It would be better for everyone if she were allowed to live her life as she wanted.
Conversation soon dissipated and as soon as Rebecca was able to, she left. However, Elayne stayed close to her.
“What do you think of what Owen said?” she asked.
“I would not care to speculate. I am sure that Lady Flynn had good reasons for doing whatever she did.”
“Oh, I'm sure as well. Personally, I wouldn't blame her even if she did run away because of love. If I was given the choice between a Highlander in his prime or some stuffy old Lord, I know which choice I'd make!”
Rebecca's cheeks flushed again, not sure of what to say. She had never given much thought to men in that sense. The whole idea of romance was scary and foreboding. It had always been cloaked in mystery for her. In the absence of any words from her mouth, Elayne continued talking.
“I know they're savages, and I certainly wouldn't want to marry one, but with all their muscles and intensity they must be good for something. Like wild animals,” Elayne said, her eyes gleaming with wicked delight. “Frankly I can't blame Catherine. People like you and I can talk about these matters without consequences. We could also run away with a Highlander if we so desired and nobody would bat an eye, but Catherine has responsibilities. It's no wonder she left. If she couldn't be happy here, she would have no other choice.”
Rebecca wondered if she could trust Elayne with the truth. She seemed to understand. She knew something of what it was like to lead a noble life and was already sympathizing with Catherine. But the words simply would not come. When it came to this subject it was as though Rebecca's mouth was sewn shut.
“But there is something Owen said that gets me thinking,” Elayne said.
“What's that?” Rebecca asked, glad that the subject was being changed.
“Athelred will want more children to ensure the future of his legacy. He will be looking for a new wife,” she said, an excited smile playing upon her face. Rebecca began to get a sense that something was wrong.
“Would he not look for a noble? There must be many women who are eager to marry a man as wealthy and influential as Lord Flynn,” Rebecca said, wanting to caution Elayne against her ambition.
“Oh, indeed there would be, but what if there was a girl here who took his eye, one with whom he could get on with the act of child making right away? There would be no need to pay a dowry, no need to wait for any ceremony to take place. It m
ight be the perfect thing to alleviate his guilt. I think I shall make myself available to him, to comfort him in his time of need,” Elayne said.
Rebecca could almost see the cogs turning inside her mind, but she could not say any word of warning against Elayne's plan. Elayne was a strong-minded figure, and no words of Rebecca would dissuade her from this course of action.
“What are you all doing around here gossiping? Get back to work, the lot of you,” the head of the household said. Ellen was a harsh taskmaster, a prim woman with gray hair that was pulled back into a tight bun. She had the eyes of a hawk; they never missed a thing. Upon her arrival everyone scattered. It was as though a rock had been scattered among pigeons. Rebecca was glad of the disturbance as she wanted all discussion of this subject to end immediately, but as she was turning away with Elayne, Ellen called out to her.
“Rebecca, I must speak with you a moment,” she said. Rebecca froze. There was no escape. She turned and slowly walked towards Ellen, sure that she was walking to her doom. Fear clanged through her mind. Somebody must have seen her. Somebody must have told Ellen that Rebecca was involved. This had been a bad idea from the start, and now she was going to have to pay the price.
Chapter 7
Charlie was a strong man, and Alastar imagined he had been in a fair few bar fights in his time, but Alastar had been trained by the Blue Thistle. Charlie let his fists fly forward in a combination of punches, but Alastar was too quick for him. Alastar sped backwards. Charlie grew more frustrated by the second as none of his punches were landing. Eventually he grew so angry that he put his entire force behind one blow. Alastar had seen it coming though. He caught Charlie's arm and threw him forward onto a table. It clattered, and mugs and plates spilled to the floor.
Just like that, the fight was over.
Alastar returned to the bar as though nothing had happened. He took a mouthful of ale and used it to swig away the blood that had seeped into his mouth. There were mutterings of Highlanders, slurs against his people, but Alastar took no notice. It wasn't the first time he had heard these things, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Gradually people left the tavern, and soon only he, Mabel, Stephen, and Penny were left. The place was a mess. Alastar rose to help and together they cleaned up the tavern. Penny was in a state and her hands were still shaking, so Mabel sent her home. Stephen offered to walk her back. It was a sweet gesture, but Alastar thought Penny only accepted because the dog made her feel more protected than Stephen did.
“I'm sorry about that. I dinnae mean tae make ye inn a mess,” Alastar said.
“It's okay. I should have expected something like this to happen. It wasn't your fault. I'm glad you were here. I dread to think what would have happened to Penny. Usually I can talk the men down, but sometimes they get ideas in their heads and it's hard to shake them,” Mabel sighed. “As if the poor girl hasn't been through enough.”
“What dae ye mean?”
“Oh, it's a typical story really. Her mother died when Penny was young. She took care of her father, but then he went off to be a soldier to try and earn some coin and good favor, only to find death. She's alone, so I let her help out here for some food and copper.”
“It dinnae sound like this place is blessed,” Alastar said. “I dinnae mean tae offend ye or insult ye home, but I can only comment on what I see.”
“Oh, I know, and I don't take any offence. It's just the way of the world unfortunately. It's us common people who suffer. I don't know what we're going to do. In truth, I don't entirely blame Charlie for what he did tonight. They're all wounded, they're all scared. They've all lost something.”
“Aye, he mentioned a lad?”
“Yes, his son. A good boy, much like Stephen actually,” Mabel said, and then seemed to be overcome by a sudden sadness. She quickly shook her head to rid herself of that though. “He went off to fight with young master Flynn and never came back. Everything thought it was going to be a glorious campaign, but they returned with their head in their hands. And now they're afraid that it's going to happen again.”
“Aye, with this new attack?” Alastar asked, his ears pricking up. “Ye must hear a lot of rumor in this inn.”
“I hear my fair share, but it's important to take it all with a pinch of salt. If I believed every rumor in this place, I'd be looking up into the sky to see the pigs flying.”
“But there are some ye here more than others,” Alastar asked, carrying some mugs back to the bar.
“Yes, sadly there are. To be honest with you, war has always been on the minds of people. I remember when I was young, and the sounds of war were all around us. We were all sure that it would only be a matter of time before it happened again. It seems like some people just can't see sense. The land is big enough for everyone,” Mabel said.
“Aye, that it is. I wish things could be different.”
“You don't look old enough to have been alive in the old war,” Mabel asked.
“Nay, I was nae, but I heard about it from my father.”
“He made it through?”
“Aye, but he dinnae like it. He only fought when he thought there was something worth fighting for, like tae defend people.”
“Like you did tonight?”
“Aye, I suppose.”
“You were brave. It's not an easy thing to stand up to an inn filled with Englishman. The more I see of you though the more it's clear that you're not just a simple traveler.” For a moment Alastar thought Mabel was going to press him for more information, but she sighed. “It's none of my business though. I'm just glad you were here.”
“I am too. Can, I ask ye a personal question?” he said. Mabel stopped what she was doing for a moment. It was probably a question she had been asked before.
“You're wondering where he is aren't you? Stephen's father?”
“Aye.”
Mabel walked over to a chair and groaned as she sat down, taking the weight off her back. She stayed silent for a few moments, before she told her story.
“He's dead. He was a good man. We ran the inn here for many years, then the call came from Lord Flynn to go to war. He needed all able bodies apparently, not giving a thought to the fact that I needed Tom more. Tom was afraid that if he didn't fight, we would all be punished for not doing our duty to our Lord. Plus, he thought what a lot of other men did, that if he did well in the battle, he might be able to find favor with Lord Flynn and that would benefit us all. I tried to tell him that the only benefit we needed was him being with us, but he wouldn't listen. He didn't even consider the possibility that he might lose, but then again, I suppose few armies do.
He left us and never returned. We heard word from a mutual friend. He had lost a limb. He said that Tom had fought valiantly but hadn't fought well enough. The first thing I thought to myself is that he was a fool, a fool for leaving us, for believing that fighting was going to be for our good. He left me running this inn all by myself, and he left Stephen without a father. I wish that he had come back so I could shake some sense into him, but I can't,” she said, and her frustration quickly turned to weeping. She pressed her hand to her face and sobbed fretfully. Alastar sat beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I'm sorry, Mabel. It's a terrible thing. I wish I could make people see sense. I wish I could make it sae that naebody went tae war. My father always tried tae tell me that war was never the answer, that tae many men died for nae good cause, and usually one war just led tae another.”
“Your father sounds like a wise man.”
“Aye, he was.”
“Is he still with you?” she sniffed.
“Nay, he died,” Alastar said. Tears stained his eyes and he blinked them back. It had been a long time since he had connected with another person in this way. Talking with Declan had been one thing, but Mabel was a survivor. She had been through some things that Declan couldn't comprehend, and Alastar felt a kinship with her that ran deep.
He opened his arms and held her for
a moment, and he wasn't entirely sure if he was doing it for her or for himself. They mourned their losses and took comfort in the knowledge that there were still good people out there.
“What are you really doing here? Do you have a wife to go home to, or children?”
“I have nobody,” Alastar said. No clan, no family, nobody but the memory of his father. “And it's better for ye if I dinnae tell ye what I'm here for. But I promise ye that nae harm will come tae ye or your boy.”
“I hope you're right. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to him,” she said.
As if on cue, Stephen returned, throwing the door open. The dog scampered beside him. He took one look at Alastar and his mother and smiled, thinking that he had walked in on something he wasn't supposed to see. Alastar brought his arms back. Mabel pushed herself up and wiped the tears from her eyes, continuing cleaning.