“My business is my own, Crispin, I shall go where I please. I am Laird, am I nae?” Hamish replied, and Crispin nodded.
“Aye, some would think of ye as Laird. Ye have nae been proclaimed as such yet though, cousin,” Crispin replied.
“And what reason would there be to prevent me from bein’ so proclaimed?” Hamish replied, eyeing his cousin suspiciously.
“Nay reason, but there is rumor aboundin’ that ye have broken yer betrothal to Isabella. Such an act would surely be foolish, dae ye nae think, cousin?” Crispin said, a smirk playing across his face.
Hamish had heard enough, and he flew into a rage, seizing hold of Crispin’s tunic and pushing him back towards the parlor door.
“So, ‘Tis treachery ye speak of, Crispin? And what would happen if that rumor were found to be true?” Hamish said, bringing his face close to that of his cousin, who continued to smirk.
“What a temper ye have, cousin. I merely pointed out to ye the foolhardiness of such an act. Isabella Musgrave is a powerful woman, and she has powerful friends. To make an enemy of the Musgraves would be foolish when ye are just a man alone,” Crispin said.
“And I have nae the support of my clan then? That much seems certain,” Hamish said, releasing Crispin from his grasp.
“Ye have the support of yer clan if ye make the right decisions for us all, cousin. But if nae, well …” he replied, and his words hung menacingly in the air.
But Hamish had heard enough and turning on his heel, he hurried out into the courtyard, calling for his horse to be saddled.
“Laird, the way is treacherous across the moorlands. Ye daenae intend to ride out, dae ye?” one of the soldiers called to him.
“It seems that I am nay longer considered fit to be Laird, and so yer concern is of nay importance, lad,” Hamish replied, making his way towards the stables.
There, he saddled the animal himself, his mind fixed on only one thing.
We will escape from here, ride off together and nae look back. I cannae bear to spend a moment longer in this accursed place., Hamish said to himself, casting a final glance back towards the farmhouse.
He had no desire for the responsibility, which was his, and he could see the murmurings of treachery all around. Crispin was a coward, but if made it clear that it was Hamish who had broken the alliance with the Musgraves, then surely, he would gain the support he needed for his insurrection. But Hamish had no second thoughts in leaving. Crispin was welcome to it, he could shoulder the responsibility and face the Musgraves as his enemy. By then, Hamish and Evie would be long gone.
“The snow, laird. The conditions are treacherous, where are ye goin’ to?” the soldier cried, as Hamish rode towards the gates.
“Away from here, that is where I am goin’ to,” he cried, not even casting a final look back, as he rode out onto the moorlands.
* * *
Evie had given up struggling against the soldier’s tight grip. She had made no further protests as they had dragged her along the path. The way becoming ever lonelier, as they led her to where she did not know. All she knew was that they were coming close to the English border, and Evie’s mind was filled with the horror that she may now suffer the same fate as her mother and grandmother before her, imprisoned in the castle of the Musgraves, with no hope of rescue.
They had walked for about an hour, and Evie had entirely lost her sense of direction when they came in sight of a small croft, smoke rising from the chimney. It was nestled between trees, great drifts of snow rising on either side. She had never been there before, the countryside around about as unfamiliar as though she had been transported to a foreign land.
Isabelle paused, turning to Evie with a smirk on her face.
“Your precious Hamish will never find you here, girl. You will remain here as my guest, until such a time as I decide what is to be done with you,” Isabella said, and the soldiers laughed.
“So, I am yer prisoner then?” Evie said, and Isabelle nodded.
“You are more than a prisoner, Evie Elliott, you are my worst enemy. You have taken from me everything that I held dear, the man I am to marry. But no matter, for I shall make you both pay for what you have done. My family knows of the treachery you and Hamish have performed, and believe me when I say that there shall be bloody revenge,” Isabella replied, “come now, bring her.”
The soldiers dragged Evie towards the croft, opening the door and pushing her inside. It was dimly lit, the remnants of a fire burning in the hearth. There was a bed in the corner, but no windows, no other comforts. A loaf of bread sat upon a plate on the table by the fire and the soldiers pushed Evie down into a chair, as Isabella stood before her.
“And what now?” Evie asked, “I am to remain here as yer prisoner and that is all?”
Isabella scowled at her and nodded.
“To kill you would be … unfortunate. Your father may be a pathetic man, but he has powerful friends, and we cannot risk an all-out war along the borders. You are more valuable alive than dead and kept here; you are well away from any hope of rescue. But do not think of escape, these men have orders to kill you if you so much as try to do so. Do you understand?” Isabella said.
Evie had only contempt for Isabella. Her jealousy was astonishing, and her cruelty seemed unmatched. It appeared she simply could not bear to lose Hamish, even though Evie knew he had no love for her, and that Isabella had treated him merely as a trophy. It was Evie who loved Hamish, and it was that thought that emboldened here now against Isabella and her men.
“I understand this, Isabella. Hamish does nae love ye. He has never loved ye, and if ye think that abductin’ me will somehow make him want to marry ye, then ye are very much mistaken. Ye cannae force a man to love ye, just as a man cannae force a woman to love him. Love is a gift, freely given from one to the other. ‘Tis a gift ye shall never possess, Isabella. And for that, I pity ye,” Evie said, as Isabella’s face contorted with rage.
“Silence, he will come to love me, I know he will. Our betrothal is too important for him not to do so, we Musgraves do not take kindly to betrayal. I will make him love me, he will do, but it is you who has blinded him to it,” Isabella cried, raising her hand to Evie, who shrank back.
But Evie knew she had struck a nerve with Isabella, the tone in her voice said as much. She sounded desperate, as though she would do anything to hear Hamish say he loved her. She felt almost sorry for Isabella, as foolish as that may be, given her precarious situation. Evie may be her prisoner, but this wicked Musgrave, with all her riches and power, could never force Hamish to marry her, and certainly not to love her. She could never break the bond of love between Evie and Hamish, and she would never know the love which they had for one another. Nor his tender touch and gentle ways. Hamish was lost to Isabella, and it was Evie, not she, who possessed his heart.
“Ye are nothin’ but a jealous woman, who has nay right to the love of a man like Hamish. Hold me here, dae as ye wish, but ye shall never have what ye want, Isabella. Never,” Evie said, shaking her head and looking sadly at Isabella, whose face was enraged.
“I have heard enough. Soldiers, keep watch over the harlot, I must return home. See to it that she is kept quiet. Any trouble from her and you may tie her to the bed. I will return later. Perhaps she will be in a more suggestive mood,” Isabella said, scowling once more at Evie, who defiantly returned her gaze.
“Hamish will come, and he will save me,” she replied, as Isabella scowled.
“You are alone, no one will come to find you. No one will know where you are, least of all Hamish. By the time my family is through with him, he shall truly regret his treachery against us, but I can be merciful, he will still come to love me, I will make sure of it!” Isabella said, and with that, she left the croft, slamming the door behind her.
Evie was left in the dim gloom, with only the embers of the fire to shed any light upon the scene. The soldiers ignored her, settling themselves around a table, upon which they lit a candle before beginning
to roll dice. She sat back on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chin. There was a chill in the air, and she pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders.
What will become of me? Why does nay one come? She said to herself, longing for news of Hamish and to have him at her side.
Chapter Thirty-Three
There was no sign of Evie along the path, and Hamish was becoming desperate. He was certain that she would take this route, for there was none more direct, and in the snowy conditions, it seemed absurd to think that she would have taken a different way. The snow was falling thickly now, and the wind had picked up, swirling the flakes around him as he rode on.
The way would soon become impassable, and Hamish cursed to himself, stopping and climbing down from the horse’s back. It would be easier to go on foot, and he pointed the animal back towards the castle, letting go of the reins and watching as it cantered off back along the path.
The beast will find its way easily enough, he said to himself, looking hopefully into the distance.
But there was still no sign of Evie, and the fresh snow would cover any tracks she might have left. For an awful moment, he wondered if she had changed her mind. Had she made her choice and remained with her family? Perhaps her brother had persuaded her that her place was at Kirklinton and not with Hamish as she had promised. Or perhaps her family had imprisoned her and even now were holding her against her will. He felt the burden of sorrow go through him, the terrible thought that perhaps he had given up everything for nothing, and that he and Evie would never be together.
But she promised, she accepted my marriage proposal, she told me she loved me, he said to himself, battling on along the snowy path towards Kirklinton.
He knew he was foolhardy. What did he intend to do? March up to the gates and demand to see Evie, to make her faithful to her promise? He could not force her to come with him. It must be her own free choice, a choice which only she could make.
I love ye, Evie, he said to himself, I love ye with all my heart, and I will give up everythin’ for ye.
There, amidst the snowy wilderness of the moorlands, it felt as though he truly had given up everything. He had left his home and hearth, thrown away his legacy, and broken his family’s ties with the Musgraves. He was alone, and without Evie at his side, he felt it.
If she truly has decided against me, then I am at an end, he said to himself, realizing just what he had given up to be with her.
Sadly, he shook his head, stumbling along the path and almost blinded by the snow. His mind was filled with such terrible thoughts that it was only at the last moment that he saw four figures approaching him. There was nowhere to hide, and suddenly, he was surrounded by drawn swords and angry faces.
“So, we find ye here, Hamish MacBryde. What have ye done with my daughter,” Fraser Elliott cried, his sword pressed to Hamish’s chest, as Rory, Owen, and Sweeney held fast his arms.
* * *
Evie shivered. She pulled her shawl tightly around her and sighed. It must be late in the afternoon now, she reasoned, but with no windows in the croft, it was hard to tell. The soldiers had ceased their game of dice and begun handing round a flask of some intoxicating liquor, for they had soon become sluggish, and their speech slurred. All bar one was now asleep, the croft filled with loud snores, so that Evie could hardly hear herself think. Only one remained awake, watching her with interest.
“You think that you can outwit the mistress?” he said suddenly, causing Evie to startle.
“I think yer mistress is a jealous woman, without a shred of decency in her,” Evie replied, thinking that the soldier was pathetic for following Isabella so blindly.
“We all know the stories of your father and mother. Of how they killed the mistress’s cousin Howard Musgrave. Your clan is finished, it may take us years, but we shall have our victory,” the soldier said.
“Howard Musgrave was a wicked man, who imprisoned my mother and would have made her his wife had my father not saved her,” Evie replied, but the soldier only laughed.
“And subjected her instead to a life on the wrong side of the border,” he said, shaking his head.
“Ye and I have very different ideas to what the wrong side of the border is,” Evie replied, turning her back on the soldier and huddling herself in her shawl.
But it was only a moment later when the door to the croft flung open and turning, she saw a man she did not recognize, one who made the soldiers sit up quickly.
“What is all this? Drunk? Yer duty was to see to it that the lass didnae escape, ye cannae have been doin’ that full of liquor. Up now, men. Isabella shall hear of this,” the man said.
Evie looked at him fearfully. He had a nasty face, but there was something of familiarity to him. As the soldier sat up dazed, making much protest as to their current state, he turned to Evie and smiled.
“Who are ye?” she said, trying to sound defiant, as he advanced towards her.
“So, this is the lass who would break up my clan and see my dear cousin lose his inheritance, is it? Somehow I expected more of ye. My name is Crispin MacBryde, and ye have been a fool, Evie Elliott,” he replied, shaking his head.
“What dae ye want of me? What will ye dae with me?” she cried as he came to stand in front of her.
“I want nothin’ of ye, except to disappear. Ye are bein’ taught a lesson, lass. The lesson is that ye shouldnae interfere in affairs that ye daenae understand. The only reason why Hamish was to be Laird was because he intended to marry Isabella and secure our alliance with the Musgraves. But it seems he made another choice …” Crispin replied, his words hanging menacingly in the air.
“So, ye come here to mock me? To warn me? What?” she asked.
“I come here to see the woman that my dear cousin was willing to give up everything to have at his side. I must say, I am disappointed, lass,” he said, smirking at her.
Evie made no reply. Crispin MacBryde was simply another unpleasant character amidst the litany of those she had encountered that day.
Is anyone but Hamish a good MacBryde? They all seem, such wicked people, she wondered to herself, thinking that perhaps her family had been right in their tales of the enemy during her childhood.
The soldiers had now roused themselves and were sat playing dice again, as Crispin barked further orders at them. It seemed strange to Evie to hear a Scot give orders to the English, and she wondered how easily they might turn against him, given the position of the MacBrydes.
There is nothin’ to dae, but wait, she reasoned, watching for anything which might give her advantage.
But it seemed that she was trapped there in the lonely croft until Isabella deemed her fate. What would become of her, and what would Isabella do to her in the end? She was more than ready to defend herself, and despite her predicament, she still felt courage in her heart. She was her mother’s daughter and she had heard the stories of her parent’s imprisonment enough times to know that her mother had been bold and brave.
Help will come, just as it did to my mother, she said to herself, though there was still doubt in her mind, and she wondered how soon that help might come.
Like her mother before her, she had a man who loved her and who would stop at nothing to see her rescued, but would she be so fortunate?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hamish struggled in the grip of Rory and Owen, feeling Sweeney’s hand upon his tunic, as Fraser Elliott’s sword came dangerously close to his neck.
“Let me go,” he cried, but despite his strength, there was little he could do against them, as the Laird looked at him menacingly.
“Where is she? Where is Evie? I know what ye intended to dae, Rory here told me all about it,” Fraser said.
“Aye, bewitchin’ our sister against us, and now ye have her; where is she?” Rory said, tightening his grip on Hamish’s arm.
“I daenae know, let me go, and I can explain it to ye, she is nae with me. I am searchin’ for her too,” Hamish cried, and at these words, Fraser�
��s expression turned to surprise.
“What dae ye mean? How can ye be searchin’ for her too?” he said, lowering his sword just a little.
“She was comin’ to me at the castle, just as ye revealed,” Hamish replied, turning his head to Rory, who scowled, “but she has nae arrived. I was comin’ to find her. I thought that perhaps she had changed her mind. I wouldnae have forced her, it was her own choice to come with me or nae. But when she didnae arrive, I was worried for her, and that is why I set off along the path, to find her,” he said.
Fraser Elliott had now lowered his sword, and he looked worriedly to the others, glancing back along the path.
“She left first thing the mornin’ tellin’ us that she was away to the blacksmith’s workshop. She took the horse, that much is certain for Sweeney here saw her and the smithy had the horse. That was hours ago, and now ye say she didnae arrive at the MacBryde castle?” Fraser said, and Hamish nodded.
A Highlander Born From Chaos (Highlanders 0f Kirklinton Book 2) Page 22