"Father! We must go to Scotland and visit grandmother and aunt Moira! Grandpa has passed away and they're alone. We're their only family now, and they need our help. How will they ever be able to run that huge estate without someone to help them?"
She flung the letter she had received from her aunt at her father's feet. The man was so exasperating she could hardly bear it! Lord Sinclair stood up, stretching to his full height, which was impressive.
"Millie. Stop your ridiculous tirade. We'll go to Scotland when the estate passes to you and not before! As it is, the estate goes to your grandmother upon your grandfather's death, then to your Aunt Moira as she is the only surviving child. It would have come to your Mother, but as she has already passed away, it will eventually come to you, my dearest daughter, after your Aunt Moira dies.
"The old man was quite a capable old gentleman if I must say so, and from my reports he has managed his properties very well. But, those two women won't last long on their own, so I expect you will soon be heir to your Grandpa's lands and castle. What a boon that will be to my holdings! When the old women pass and you inherit the lands is when we will make a trip up to the Godforsaken country."
Lord Sinclair had a great dislike for anything Scottish, but knew that having holdings in the Highlands would put him in good standing with the other landowners.
"But, we'll not return a day before then! Now, talk no more about it!" And he strode from the room, stepping on the letter as he continued on his way.
Millie had fled from his rooms and returned to her own where her friend and nursemaid, Dorothea, was waiting for her.
"Oh, Dorothea. Father says we can't go to Scotland for Grandpa's burial. Whatever will Aunt Moira think? She and Grandmother are the only family I have now that Mother has already left us. Some of my fondest memories are of the times we visited there when I was a child."
"Oh, aye, Lady Millie. Your family in Scotland is special to my kin also. Someone from my family has worked on the estate as long as I can remember. I, too, would wish to go back and pay my respects. But, we both know your father's word is law around here. Your Aunt Moira will understand. She always knew her sister had married a man that was not worthy of her, but your grandfather thought it would be a good match, a Scot and an English lord. Of course, he had no way of knowing he had given his daughter into the hands of a violent man. So, now, we have to survive and make the most of whatever we have. We will do this together, milady."
Millie's mother had given birth to another child just a couple of years before Millie was born. It had been a son, but he had only lived for a few days, a baby born before time, actually. Of course, Lord Sinclair had blamed his wife, insisting that she did not take proper care of his son.
"What did you do? Did you smother him? You never wanted him to begin with! He is dead because of your carelessness!"
Lord Sinclair's wrath knew no limits. He had wanted a son so badly, and now his son was dead in just a couple of days.
"But I did not cause his death! He was born two months too early. Most babies do not survive if they are born so early! You must believe me!"
Then, just a year following the baby's death, Lady Sinclair announced that she was carrying another child.
"Then you will stay in this bed, and my son will survive this time!" Sinclair made his pronouncement and knew it would be followed.
Lady Sinclair wrote to her sister, Moira, as soon as the time neared for the baby to be born.
"Moira. Please find someone in the village to come down and help me with the babe. I dread to think what Sinclair will do if another child dies."
Lady Sinclair's family in Scotland were so thrilled to hear that she, Louise, was well and that a new babe was expected shortly.
She fared well during this pregnancy and went the full term with no complications. During the final month of her pregnancy, late in the evening in the dead of winter, Lady Sinclair sent her chambermaid for the midwife.
"Hurry, Elspeth! This baby is coming quickly! Bring the midwife. Run now!"
Elspeth, a young girl from the village, scurried down the stairs to the lower level. She stopped at the door to Lord Sinclair's chamber and grabbed the attention of his page who stood guard.
"Keifer! Tell Lord Sinclair the Lady is about to deliver the baby and I'm off to fetch the midwife! Go now! Quickly!"
The chambermaid knew that Lord Sinclair would dismiss her in a minute if she didn't keep him informed of this impending birth. She was assigned to Lady Sinclair, but she was well aware Lord Sinclair made all decisions in this castle, and she needed to keep her position. Her family depended on her. When the midwife arrived, she hurried upstairs and went directly to Lady Sinclair's chamber.
"Now, milady. All will be well. You've been through this before and know you will survive it."
Lady Sinclair paced the room, perspiration shining on her brow. She halted her movement as a contraction made its way from her abdomen through her body and around to her back.
"Oh! I know, but this baby must live! Sinclair will hold me responsible if it does not! Please don't let it die!"
She wrung her hands and moaned as another contraction grabbed her and she felt its tentacles tighten around her midsection bringing even greater pain than she remembered. She struggled to keep from screaming, but finally she could no longer refrain.
"Oh! Oh! It's coming nurse! Now! Aieeeeeeee!"
"Don't push just yet milady. Not yet!"
"I must! I have to!" And she did.
The child was born just shortly thereafter and, being full term, had all fingers, toes and limbs. Its head was covered with a cap of thick, dark hair and its rosy skin indicated it was breathing well. Then it let out a cry that would please any new mother and midwife, and most fathers as well. In other words, it was the picture of health.
But, there was one problem that glared them in the face — was evident from the first moment after delivery — the child was a girl.
"Can't you do anything right woman! A daughter is useless! You hear! Useless!"
Lord Sinclair had railed at the top of his voice and left the castle cursing as he walked out the door. Lady Sinclair sobbed in her bed knowing this child would never be cherished by her own father.
Lady Sinclair's sister, Moira, had managed to find a suitable nursemaid, the daughter of a woman who made clothing for the Cameron women. The young girl, Dorothea, had several younger siblings, so had some experience with managing young children. Plus, she was eager to see England as she had never left her home country of Scotland. Going to England to serve in a fine lord's castle sounded like such an adventure, and she was anxious to begin her life there.
Lady Sinclair sent a carriage for her, and she arrived when the child was but a week old. Dorothea was to become the child's nursemaid, friend, and confidante for many years to come.
When Lady Sinclair left her home in Scotland, her family, the Camerons, had thought she would be well cared for by this English Lord, Sinclair, and bring their two families together, one being Scots and the other English. Apparently the agreement that was made with Millie’s mother’s family was done so in order that the English lord would ultimately inherit the Scotland estate as it would pass to his wife upon the death of her last parent. Of course, she had died, so her daughter, Millie, would be the heir apparent now, following the death of her Aunt Moira.
The Camerons had only the two girls, Louise and Moira. Louise had married Lord Sinclair, but Moira had never married and still continued to live with her parents in Scotland and was the one who kept the place going, along with the servants. Her father took care of the business end of the estate, but Moira took on the responsibilities of keeping the castle and buildings well cared for. The servants had been there most of their lives and depended on the Camerons for their livelihood.
But, even when Lady Sinclair was getting letters from her family, early in her marriage, her sister spoke of Papa's mind drifting. Sometimes they would have to search for him as he would go
missing. That was just a few years ago now, and apparently he recently had died in his sleep. Aunt Moira had sent a letter telling them of the old man's death, but Millie's father had refused to let her write for some time now, so there had been no communication with her relatives for a long period.
Lord Sinclair never forgave his wife for not providing him a son, but as Millie began to grow up, it was obvious the child was exceedingly bright and quick to learn. The Lord provided tutors, thinking that even if she were not a son, she could at least learn the basics. Well, the tutors saw quickly that mastering the basics was not a problem. So, to Millie's delight, she was taught the sciences, mathematics, and languages. She could communicate in French, and English, and to a lesser degree, Gaelic. Her mother had insisted that the tutors bring someone from Scotland to instruct her in that language as well. That was one of the few times she exercised her rights as Lady of the Castle.
Dorothea had gone to England and had been given total responsibility for caring for Millie. Later on, when her mother began her downhill slide into ill health, Millie was ever so glad to have Dorothea still with her. It was long past the time she needed a nursemaid, but Dorothea was more than that; she was practically her mother as far as Millie was concerned. Dorothea had been only a young girl when she was charged with caring for an infant. But she found that Millie was such as easy child. She was rather quiet and shy with strangers. However, in private, she was a child who loved nature, would much rather be outdoors than in, and was more intelligent than was thought to be becoming in a female.
Millie's quick mind soared during her time with the tutors, and physically, she became someone to take note of as well. She had a most interesting face, heart shaped with sparkling green eyes that twinkled when she laughed. But, her crowning glory was her long, exceptionally thick, black hair. It was as straight as a plank, and hung down her back, having never been cut. And, a fact that could not be overlooked by anyone, she was taller than most men — almost six feet to be exact! Her mother had been a tall woman, and her father well over six feet. So, it was predictable that she might be likewise. However, her father thought her height most unattractive in a woman and chided her about it endlessly.
"How will I ever find a man who wants an Amazon for a wife?" Lord Sinclair would shout about her unusual height when in one of his tirades. However, Millie had seen several men who looked her way, with smiles on their faces. They had found her most attractive, even if her father did not.
Keeping these thoughts to herself, Millie returned to her conversation with Dorothea.
"Yes, Dorothea. I know you're right. We have no choice but to obey Father. I hope Aunt Moira and Grandmother understand my difficult situation. But, one day. One day I'll leave that monstrous man and this pile of stones that have kept me prisoner for my entire life!"
CHAPTER 6
Having gotten her bearings, Caitlin and the pup she now called Willie, in honor of the first Great Lion of Scotland, William, started to build the foundations of their new lives together. Caitlin thought the pup's name appropriate as he did roar like a lion when he thought she was in danger.
She had been amazed at how quickly this pup grew! She had watched Uncle Wabi with his small puppies, but they didn't seem to grow by leaps and bounds as this wolf pup had. She would really like Uncle Wabi to take a look at him. He'd probably be able to tell her much from his experiences raising other animals, but she didn't recall that he had ever raised a wolf. She felt a definite kinship with this most unusual companion, but still longed for relationships with others. Willie's presence was comforting and she had already discovered he was a great sentry who knew long before she did if anyone approached the cave.
The villagers were glad to have a healer in their midst as many men were returning from the battles that seemed to never end. Caitlin would often take her medicines into the village and try to bring relief to as many as possible. Some, however, needed more care, such as the young man that had been brought to her by his brothers. The villagers knew she lived in the cave, but respected her wishes to keep her whereabouts as quiet as possible. She did not go into detail about why she was here, but they were eager to make her a part of their community as her skills were greatly needed. Furthermore, the cave had a reputation as a sanctuary for many over the years.
Thus it was as she was returning from the village after a long day of caring for the wounded soldiers, most of them returning from the horrors of Culloden, the healer was glad the day was over and was looking forward to a bath and a lie down on her pallet with Willie. It had occurred to her she was going to need a larger pallet soon, as Willie was becoming rather large. Who would have thought the tiny pup with the broken leg would turn into this giant! He slept at her feet and provided a bit of warmth she needed, especially now that winter would soon be upon them.
Just a few yards from where she would turn to go to her cave, she heard riders coming down the path, riding hard and shouting as they rode.
"Just find her! She lives out here somewhere! But beware. Apparently she travels with a wolf, a big, black one who protects her!" yelled one of the riders.
"Yeah," said another.
"Well, wolf or no. We'll find her and she'll tend our brother! We'll give her no choice in the matter!" said a deep-voiced one.
Caitlin stopped and quickly looked for some place to hide, but found nowhere she could run to quickly. She managed to get out of the path and waited as the riders came barreling down the way and were at her feet in a matter of seconds.
"Ye there! Woman! Are ye the healer?"
The man shouted at the top of his voice, trying as usual to intimidate the person to whom he spoke, what with his size, his booming voice and brusque manner. He jumped down from his horse as if his being closer to her would make her even more afraid.
Willie's hackles stood on end, a growl building deep in his throat, and Caitlin spoke in her soft voice.
"Easy Willie. Stay. It's Ok. Let's hear them out."
In addition to speaking to Willie, Caitlin made a movement with her hand that the wolf understood as well. She taught him hand signals for the times when one needed to communicate without words, something she learned from Uncle Wabi, who always had one or more dogs in training. He had a most unusual way with animals.
Watching Willie everyday was like watching a weed grow! Each day he seemed larger than the day before. And he no longer looked like a young, friendly creature. He was beginning to look like what he was — a ferocious wolf. As a pup his underside and belly had been creamy. Now, it was just as black as the rest of him. Presently he moved even closer to Caitlin, rubbing up against her leg as if to say, "I hear you, but I'm not sure about these men."
The man who appeared to be the oldest got off his horse and came to stand between the first, larger man and the healer. He bowed quickly in her direction.
"I'm Alexander MacKinnon, ma'am. Are ye the healer the villagers told us about?"
She certainly didn't look like a healer, thought Alexander. He came closer and realized the woman was quite small, not even coming to his shoulders. Why, he could pick her up with one hand if he needed to! But, when she spoke — well now — that was another matter entirely.
Alex watched as the healer walked up to his "big" brother, Jack, and looked him directly in the eye. He had been the one yelling at her, so she ignored Alex's question and stood in from of the big man. She had to bend her head back in order to make eye contact with him. Alex watched as she gazed at the overly large man. It seemed to Alex that she was assessing Jack and deciding whether to answer him or not. Apparently, Jack's "intimidation" technique was not working on her. If this weren't such a disastrous situation, Alex would have laughed at the look on Jack's face!
"Yes. I'm the healer. What's all the ruckus about? I hear very well and don't particularly like being shouted at!"
Jack turned red in the face, unaccustomed as he was to any woman standing her ground in his presence. Usually they tried to stay out of his way as muc
h as possible.
Seeing as how this whole scene was not going well, the remaining brother, Hector, stepped forward. So, now three brothers were standing over her, each one with enough stature to get one's attention.
Hector bowed in her direction and addressed her.
"Good day, madam. Please forgive my brother his poor manners. It's only that we have a desperate situation and require the skills of a healer. I do hope that ye'll help us."
Caitlin had actually dismissed the three men already and was headed over to take a look at the soldier that had been draped over his horse, apparently wounded from some battle as they all were. Blood dripped from his leg, and he moaned when she touched him. She immediately went into healer mode and could tell this man was indeed in need of her help, and the sooner, the better.
"Quickly! Get him inside my cave. Hurry now!"
It was obvious the most critical wound was the young man's left leg, which was dangling from his knee, barely hanging on by the smallest amount of tendon and a few scraps of skin, and he was bleeding, even through his tourniquet.
"Put him here, on this table! Cut his clothing off — those pants! Cut them off him now!"
The lad was wearing some sort of pants that gathered just below the knee, very different from the usual plaid and trews the others wore. They were very similar to the ones Uncle Wabi wore. He said he could get about well and still be warmer when wearing them. She quickly laid out her tools and began to gather bandages, medicines, and clean cloths to work with. The injured youngster drifted in and out of consciousness, moaning with pain and trying to get up from the table. That was the point when she was instructing them to move their arse and help her!
CHAPTER 7
Now, here she was, with the youngest of the MacKinnon brothers, Ian, lying on a table in her cave, and it was her task to keep him alive, something she most assuredly would try to do.
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