She feared the terrified look upon her face would betray her. She made her way back to the rock beside the fire and took a seat before her legs gave way. The letter was filled with all the facts she learned about Benjamin Campbell during the tour. The first wife, Mary. The overbearing father. And, the date on the letter – how could she forget that?
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The paper was new, not yellowed with age. It was rough, unlike the manufactured paper she knew in her time. In her time. No one could have planted that letter in an attempt to deceive her, and no dream would ever last this long or have so many details.
It was time to accept that she had somehow travelled back to 1801. What am I going to do? she thought. She buried her face in her hands.
∞
Benjamin was gone so long that Tilly began to panic he might not return at all. At last, he slowly walked back to the campsite with a bucket of water. He lifted a small pot from its place beside the fire and poured the water into it. He then placed the pot over the fire and set the empty bucket nearby. His tasks complete, he delayed the continuation of their conversation long enough.
He scratched the light beard that had formed on his face. She failed to notice it earlier. She recalled with a blush that her attention was focused on other parts of his body last night.
He sat on a rock beside her. “Miss Munro, I consider myself to be a learned man,” he began. “My father sought the best tutors for my instruction. I have read a great many books and travelled extensively. Despite all of this, I have neither heard of nor seen anything like the events of the last few hours.”
“I am also a gentleman. You are a lady in great distress. Do you have any connections or family in the area?” he asked. After the slight shake of her head, he continued, “I sincerely apologize for taking advantage of you last night. It was despicable, and I intend to make right the wrong that I have inflicted upon your person. Rest assured, we will be married after what occurred between us. Your reputation will not be sullied.”
“Do you believe me, Benjamin?” Tilly asked, choosing to ignore the marriage part of that speech.
“I am very certain of my abilities as a tracker,” he said confidently. “The marks do not lie. It would seem you did indeed appear from the very mist itself last night.”
Well, that’s all I can expect right now, she thought. She extended her hands toward the fire. She felt awfully cold, even though she was wrapped in the plaid blanket.
He lightly placed his arm around her trembling shoulders. She did not know this man, but his presence brought her enormous comfort in a very, very difficult situation.
“Why were you so upset?” she asked, studying his face. He looked away. She could tell he was slightly embarrassed at his show of emotion. “I confided my tale to you. You owe me an answer.”
“My wife Mary died in childbed nine months ago. I loved her dearly. I came here to spend some time alone.” He paused, appearing to carefully weigh his words. “It is a great responsibility to manage Castle Fion. I have not had time to properly grieve the loss of my wife.”
When Mr. Douglas told the family’s stories yesterday, it seemed like a history lesson from the distant past. Now that the depressed husband sat beside her in the flesh, the painful loss of Benjamin’s first wife seemed all too real to Tilly.
Tears sprang into her eyes. She realized they shared something in common. “My husband and children died over a year ago,” she whispered.
She did not resist when he pulled her into his arms. To her surprise, she began to cry. Sure, she shed a tear here and there, but she had not cried like this in months. The pain poured from her. She knew some of the tears also stemmed from the confusion of her current situation.
He stroked her hair and asked, “How did you lose your family, if you do not mind telling me?”
“There was an accident. They died instantly,” she said. Tilly did not want to explain that Alex’s car swerved in front of a tractor trailer after a tire blew on his car. The vehicle was crushed like a tin can. She could barely comprehend it, so she doubted a 19th century man who had never even seen an automobile would understand.
“You were a guest at the inn,” he said. At her nod, he asked, “Were you travelling with family?”
Tilly wiped the last tears from her cheeks. “I came here with my friend Beth,” she said. “I wanted to get away. I sold the home I shared with my family. I couldn’t stand to be there for one more day. Too many memories, you know?”
“I do. Even though my home is filled with servants and children, I feel so lonely without my precious Mary,” he said. He hesitated. “If it is not too painful for you, can you tell me how many bairns you had?”
She stared at the mother’s ring she wore on her opposite hand. It was to be a birthday present. She found it when she cleaned out the closet she shared with her husband. It stung to see the sparkling diamonds and garnet, which was her children’s birth stone. “I had twins – John and Anna,” she replied. She struggled to suppress a sob as she exclaimed, “And, I cannot have more children!”
“Oh, lass, do not fret,” he said, trying to reassure her. “You are young and can have many children.”
“No. I mean, I had…I cannot….” she could not say the rest. Two years ago, Alex and she agreed that two children were plenty so she had her tubes tied. She never believed she would regret the decision.
“Oh, you are barren then?” he asked uncomfortably.
She did not know how to explain sterilization to a 19th century man. “Yes, in a manner of speaking,” she replied. His guess was close enough to the truth.
“Well, I have five – four boys and a baby girl,” Benjamin proclaimed proudly. “You are welcome to spoil all of them as much as you like.”
She noticed the shadow that quickly fell over his face. He probably did not mean it. How could he? Would she want a crazy person around her children? Of course not – and she knew that is exactly what he thought she was. Time travel was as preposterous in 1801 as it was in her time.
Tilly worried he might want to discuss the subject of marriage again. She did not understand why it was so important. In her time, it was not a big deal for a man and a woman to have what obviously was a wild, one-night stand. Granted, she had never done it, but she honestly believed she was dreaming.
She pushed away from him. “The only people who know what happened are you and me,” she said. “I promise not to breathe a word to anyone. You don’t have to marry me, Benjamin.”
“Miss Munro - or should I say Mrs. Munro,” he corrected himself. “I do not know how men act where you live. I assure you: we Scots are much more honorable. You are without family or connection, so what will become of you? I offer you safety and a place to stay. What will happen if I leave you here?”
She knew full well the dangers of being alone and penniless in any age, yet Tilly had no intention of marrying him only because they shared a night of passion. She desperately clung to the futile hope that this was all a dream. When she looked around an area devoid of all habitation, it felt less like a dream, though. The situation felt increasingly real with each passing minute.
“I thank you for your offer of marriage,” she said, in a manner calmer than she felt. “Unfortunately, I cannot accept.”
Before he could protest, she pressed a finger to his lips. “If you are an honorable man, you will help me,” she said. “I am not lying. I am from the future. Is there any way you can help me without marrying me?”
He stared at her for several moments. Finally, he nodded in agreement and said, “You will have my full protection and can stay at my home as long as you wish. I will not tell your tale if…”
She finished the sentence. “…I will not share ours.”
Benjamin studied the gray sky. “A storm is brewing,” he said, at last. “We can either bide here a bit longer or take a wet horseback ride to my home. Which do you prefer, Mrs. Munro?”
She looked at the sky. It was so over
cast that she could not see the sun. Of course, it looked that way ever since she arrived in Scotland. She was not sure how he knew a storm was imminent. “Let’s stay here,” she said, not relishing the idea of traveling on a wet horse.
He rose from the rock and set about making a rough shelter for them. He gathered tree limbs and pine boughs and weaved them together to make a crude roof. He propped the makeshift structure against a large granite boulder. When he was satisfied with his efforts, he moved the saddles and bags into the shelter. He told her to wait for him there before he set off into the woods.
She wrapped herself in the plaid blanket and curled into a ball on the ground. As she fell asleep, she fervently hoped she would awaken from this surreal nightmare.
Eight
Tilly did not hear the sound of rain hammering the glass on the windows, so the storm must have passed. Her eyes still shut, she inhaled a delectable scent that made her mouth water – garlic, onion, potato, some kind of meat? She was starving. She hoped she had not missed Mrs. Douglas’ fabulous breakfast spread. She was surprised Beth let her sleep so late.
She slowly opened her eyes and saw the campfire. Then, she noticed Benjamin hovering over it, carefully stirring a pot. She squealed in surprise as she flung away the plaid blanket and sat upright. She banged her head into the low roof of the makeshift shelter he created for her. Rubbing her sore head, she managed a weak smile.
He jumped but otherwise maintained his composure, choosing to ignore her little outburst. “I was afraid you would sleep through the meal,” he teased. “It is nearly one o’clock.”
She stumbled to the fire and took a seat beside him. He filled a wooden bowl with contents from the pot and handed it to her along with the spoon. He had prepared a watery stew that contains morsels of mystery meat and the vegetables she found in his saddle bag. She sniffed it, detecting the scent of onion and garlic that interrupted her sleep. “What is it?” she asked.
“It is rabbit stew,” he said. “I suggest you eat it quickly. The sky will open again at any moment.”
She took a tentative spoonful of the stew and sighed in satisfaction. The onion and garlic gave the broth a savory taste. Chunks of potato and carrot mixed well with the rabbit meat. The stew was delicious. She was a good Southern girl who had also been married to a chef. This was not her first experience with rabbit. Of course, as hungry as she was, she would have eaten a rock if he sautéed it properly.
“I found that I was absolutely ravenous for some reason,” he commented, dipping a dirk into the pot and eating a piece of skewered meat.
Tilly noticed the corners of his mouth twitched. She would not dignify that comment with a response.
“We should discuss certain matters before our arrival at my home,” he said, taking advantage of her silence while she ate. “I recommend that you do not share the tale of travelling through time with anyone else.”
She nodded. She had no intention of sharing her story – or discussing their romantic interlude.
As predicted, fat drops of rain began to fall from the sky. Tilly scrambled into the shelter, with Benjamin quickly moving behind her. He had the forethought to bring the pot of stew with him. He took a seat beside her, placing the pot in between them.
“The best lies involve elements of the truth,” he said while he continued to eat. “You have no family or connections in the area. You are alone and lost in a strange land.”
With a sinking feeling, she realized the seriousness of the situation. She added, “I was, until I met you.”
“Yes. That part of the story will require some embellishment,” he said. He paused for a moment, considering their quandary. “Listen to my tale, and let us see if it is reasonable.”
They would say he found her in the woods in the early morning hours. Her party was set upon by men of evil nature and intent late one night. Her husband urged her to run, promising that he followed her. She did as he bade but knew not what happened. She ran so far and so fast that she quickly found herself lost and alone in the forest. She hid there until dawn, when she happened upon Benjamin.
They trekked back to the camp and discovered the bodies of the servants and, to her great sorrow, her husband. The money and belongings were gone.
Being a gentleman, he offered his assistance. They travelled for one day’s time to reach the safety of his home. That should place them far enough away from the scene of the alleged attack. The idly curious might be willing to ride an hour or two, but certainly not a day, to investigate on their own.
He stared expectantly at her when he finished his yarn. Tilly knew the area was remote in her time. She assumed it was even more so in 1801. “Why were we travelling so far from a major city?” she asked.
He pondered her query for a moment. “Your husband longed to explore the western shore,” he said. “Your guide was in league with your attackers and thus led you astray.”
“Is an attack plausible?” She had no idea how common such a thing was.
“Aye, very.”
“What about my friend Beth? What if I slip and tell someone about travelling with her? Will that arouse suspicion?”
“Yes, it would. We could say that you were travelling with your husband and a friend. We found both of their bodies.”
Tilly shook her head. “I don’t want to say that Beth died too,” she said. She saw the frown on his face. “Look – I can deal with telling people my husband is dead. I mean, he already is. But, I cannot say Beth is dead too.”
Benjamin sighed. “We cannot say that your friend lives. It would raise too many questions,” he said practically. “Why are we not searching for her? Should we not alert families in the area, in case she is found? We want people to hear the story and then forget it just as quickly. You must take care in what you say, Mrs. Munro. We tread on dangerous ground.”
She knew he was right. “Yes, we do. I will be careful,” she promised. She handed the empty bowl to him. “Thank you for the stew.”
“It was my pleasure, madam,” he replied with a grin. He carefully cleaned the dirk on his breeches before returning it to the leather sheath on his belt.
“Benjamin, do you think I am insane?”
“I am not sure. Your tale is incredible. I could almost believe you are a fey. If you are, you have a voracious appetite. I fear you might eat me next.”
She thought he was serious until he flashed her a huge grin. She laughed, despite the gravity of the situation. She playfully poked him in the ribs. “If I was a fey, I would gladly return to my own people now!” she exclaimed.
“Does my company offend you?” he asked. He looked hurt by her comment.
“No!” she said quickly, lightly touching his arm. “You have done so much for me already. I don’t know what I would do without your help.” She gave him a serious look. “Please know this - I want to go home, Benjamin. I don’t belong here.”
“I understand, Mrs. Munro.”
“Why won’t you call me ‘Tilly?’ I call you ‘Benjamin,’ after all.”
He shook his head. “When we arrive home, please do not address me thus. It would not be proper for us to address each other by our Christian names. We do not want people to think our connection is as intimate as we know it to be.”
She was surprised. “May I call you Benjamin in private?” she asked, her tone slightly mocking. What an uptight society!
“Aye, I suppose you may.”
“Is your home far from here?” she asked. She extended her hand outside their makeshift shelter. The rain was but a drizzle now.
“It is an hour’s ride, maybe a little longer if the trail is muddy from the rain,” he said. Climbing from the shelter, he looked at the sky. “Aye, ‘tis nearly spent.”
He helped her exit the shelter. He frowned as he examined her from head to toe. Defensively, Tilly pulled the plaid blanket tighter around her body.
“Mrs. Munro, you do not look like a woman who was lost in the woods,” he said. He ripped one sleeve from the sh
oulder of her robe. Then, he bent low and rubbed mud onto her shoes.
“Stop it!” she demanded. She attempted to step away from him, but he prevented her escape by grabbing the hem of her gown. Before she could protest, he swiftly tore a small slit in the garment. He lightly smeared mud on the hem.
“What the hell?” Tilly yelled. “You are ruining my clothes!”
“Stop your havering, woman!” Benjamin said angrily. “You cannot look as if you stepped straight from the bath. You are too clean to have spent days in the woods.”
Much to her irritation, he stroked her cheek with a grimy finger. “I am sorry if I have offended you,” he apologized, softening his tone. “You have no idea how extraordinary your appearance will be. Everyone in the village will know about it within an hour of our arrival. Let us not give them any doubt that the story is true.”
Shaking his head, he slowly moved around the campsite. He gathered his things and readied the horses.
As she examined her torn garments, she bitterly acknowledged to herself that he was right. She should have known her appearance was incongruous to the tale they concocted. He did not have to tear my clothes, though, she thought irritably.
She pulled the plaid blanket tightly around her shoulders. Tilly was sure he did not believe her but hoped he was a man of his word. He was her lifeline – and it scared her.
Nine
The ride to Castle Fion took much longer on horseback than it had in an automobile. The journey seemed particularly long when one was unaccustomed to riding on a horse. Benjamin was surprised to learn that Tilly did not know how to ride and therefore insisted that she share a horse with him. She rode sidesaddle, a totally unnatural position, with Benjamin behind her. She maintained good posture for about fifteen minutes, twisting slightly to the front so that she could take in the view. That position eventually proved most painful to her lower back. She relented and leaned against her companion who seemed quite at ease.
Through the Mist: Restoration Page 7