Highland Soldiers 1: The Enemy
Page 27
Callum swallowed back emotion. “I wanted to think so, but I never was sure.”
Glengarry’s eyes darkened. “That was a cost that you both had to bear, and I’m sorry for that.” He gripped Callum’s shoulder.
They turned to take in the view through the window, sharing the peace of the still night.
Stirring from across the room drew Glengarry’s attention back to practical matters. “So what am I to do with those two?”
“They’re in love,” said Callum.
“So I gathered,” Glengarry said with a wry glance in their direction.
“And what of Seaforth? He’ll take offense at your spurning his sister.”
“It was she who did the spurning. She ran off with Ranald.”
“It was she who ran off,” Glengarry corrected. “And she did it alone. Seaforth cannae learn of Ranald’s involvement.”
Glengarry thought for a moment. “She ran away and left you, wounding your pride if not your heart.”
“And I was wounded enough that I had to leave the scene of my disgrace.”
Glengarry studied Callum with a sad resignation. “After that, I had no choice but to make Ranald future chief and heir to half of my estate.”
Callum met his eyes with an unanswered question. Only half?
Glengarry answered with a faint smile, which soon faded. “The other half of my estate may not be enough to make up for the past, but it can shape your future.”
Callum looked at Glengarry and saw a father’s love. It so moved him that he had to look down. He took a breath and contained his emotions. “Do you think Seaforth would agree to the change?”
“Aye, he’ll accept our proposal if it means we’ll keep quiet about his sister’s behavior. When I’m through, he’ll feel lucky we’ll have her at all, after what she has done.”
Callum said, “She followed her heart. It’s not so bad as all that.”
“Perhaps not, but we willnae share that opinion with Seaforth.” Glengarry lifted a brow.
“In the end, he will have what he wants. His sister will marry the heir to the chiefdom, and there will be peace between our two clans.”
Glengarry looked over at the two nervous lovers and spoke loudly. “Ranald, what in God’s name were you thinking?”
He looked plainly at Glengarry and said, “I love her.”
“My Lord, please dinnae blame him. I begged him to take me away.” Aemilia glanced nervously toward Callum. “I’m sorry, but I could never love anyone but Ranald. I could not face a life without him.”
Callum folded his arms and looked at Glengarry.
Ranald said, “Forgive me, but the lady said she would leave with or without me to escape the wedding. I felt I had no choice but to keep her safe.”
With a jaundiced look, Glengarry said, “Aye, from what I understand, you were keeping her quite safe in your arms when they found you.”
Ranald clenched his jaw and bit back his reply.
Aemilia looked from Callum to Glengarry. “Have you never been in love?”
Glengarry seemed to ignore her question. Instead he turned to Ranald. “It appears that Callum doesnae want the chiefdom.”
Ranald looked sharply at Callum. Callum shrugged in reply.
Glengarry said, “Until now, I have always known you to be a man of honor. This was entirely out of character for you. It is the only lapse I will ever allow without grave consequences. Do you understand?”
“I do, my Lord.”
“It will take some convincing to get Seaforth to agree to his sister marrying a different heir.”
Aemilia’s eyes filled with tears. Ranald could only manage a muted, “Thank you, my Lord.”
Glengarry turned to Callum. “You must leave now. Seaforth cannae see you. You will need to stay away for a year, perhaps two.” He gazed at his son for a moment, and then gripped his shoulder. “Goodbye, lad.”
Callum looked into eyes that shone with the love he had longed for since childhood. He managed a fond goodbye and left while he still could control his emotions.
Glengarry watched him leave, and then told a guard to go and wake Seaforth from his slumber.
* * *
Seaforth stormed in. “Where is she?”
“She’s in here. Tread lightly. She’s had a long and trying day.”
“So I hear,” Seaforth said, fuming. He caught sight of her and shot her a fiery look. “Foolish girl.”
Glengarry said, “I’m afraid she wounded Callum irreparably.”
Seaforth could not hide his alarm as he looked at Glengarry and waited for what might come next.
Glengarry proceeded with care, taking note of Seaforth’s every reaction. “I could not stop him. He’s gone.”
The news drew a grim look to Glengarry, and a more piercing look to Aemilia.
Glengarry said, “He has relinquished the chiefdom.”
Seaforth’s face reddened as he shot a scathing look at Aemilia.
She looked back at him boldly. “It could not be helped.”
He walked over to face her. “Could it not?” Then he slapped her with the back of his hand.
Ranald leapt at him and landed a blow that threw Seaforth off balance and sent him to an awkward sprawl on the floor.
Ranald pulled Aemilia into his arms as he smoothed her hair back and peered at the red handprint on her face. As Seaforth stirred to rise up, Ranald pulled Aemilia behind him.
“Ranald, please,” she whispered, urging caution.
Ranald bit back the words that he wanted to say, and instead said, “I will marry Lady Aemilia.”
Seaforth was on his feet now, blotting the blood from his lip with a handkerchief. His eyes swept over Ranald from head to toe. “You’ll do no such thing.” He leveled a sharp look at Glengarry. “Our deal was for her to marry the heir to the chiefdom.”
“Aye,” said Glengarry nonchalantly. “With Callum gone, I’m of a mind to change my heir to Ranald.”
Seaforth looked as though he might spit, but he held himself back, with a long glare at Ranald.
Ranald glowered back, unrelenting.
For a long while, no one spoke. With one last swipe of the handkerchief, Seaforth looked at Glengarry and casually said, “Very well. I will need it in writing that he is to be chief. I’ll not wait for the banns. Pay the priest off. I want them married this Sunday.”
“Agreed,” said Glengarry.
“Good.” Seaforth looked at Aemilia, who clung to Ranald’s arm. Ranald made no effort at pretense as he slipped his arm about Aemilia’s waist and protectively held her.
This prompted an unexpected laugh from Seaforth. “I would say you could have her, but it appears that you already have.” With a cruel laugh, he bade Glengarry goodnight and walked out of the room.
* * *
Four horsemen rode down from the castle with a spare horse in tow. Mari heard their approach and flung open the cottage door.
“It’s all over.” Callum dismounted and opened his arms. Mari flew to him.
Charlie grinned. “So you’d throw yourself away on this sorry lout?”
Mari smiled broadly as she turned to Callum and brushed a stray lock of hair from his brow. “Yes, I would. I would have him forever.”
“And you will.” Callum consumed her with a kiss that drew out until Alex cleared his throat.
“Em, Callum, you ken we’re still here?”
Callum glanced over his shoulder. “Aye, but I dinnae care.” And he kissed her again.
Alex clapped his hand on Callum’s shoulder and led the way inside to bid Nellie goodbye. She tried to be brave through her tears, but the leaving was hard. It was hard for them all. But they had to be gone before morning, so they were on their way, with a nearly full moon lighting their way.
33
Forever
One Week Later
Callum turned Mari about in his arms so they both faced the window looking out over the Edinburgh street where Alex, Charlie and Duncan strode towa
rd the nearest pub. Mari leaned back against Callum’s sturdy chest and sighed with contentment.
He rested his cheek on her head. “Out there is our life, Mari. We’ll not waste time looking behind us anymore.”
She turned her head back toward him. “But I quite like the view behind me at the moment,” she said with a mischievous grin.
“Aye, do you now? Well, there’s no accounting for taste. But I willnae complain as long as I’ve got you to look at.”
“Just look?” She glanced up and gave a wistful nod. “Hm.”
“Aye.” Callum pretended to ignore her demure hint. “And to hold—except when I let you go to the market.”
She cast a narrow-eyed look over her shoulder.
He made no effort to hide a mischievous grin. “And to cook me grand meals.”
“Och, of course. Those grand plates of neeps and tatties.”
“And the sweeping and washing.”
She pivoted around and looked up through her lashes. “Aye.”
With a mischievous spark in his eye, he said, “And the children. I was thinking at least nine or ten.”
She nodded, now smiling herself. “I see.” Mari placed her fists on her hips. “That’s a grand picture you paint of our life.”
With a teasing grin, he said, “It is grand, is it not?”
She nodded, suppressing a smile. “Aye. I’d best be about it.” She took a few steps away, and then turned back as if a thought had just occurred to her. “Of course, with all the cooking—”
“Of grand meals,” he added, sauntering toward her.
“Aye, the grand meals, and the sweeping and washing…” Mari sighed.
“Aye, lass?” He looked deeply interested as he inched closer.
“I was just wondering.” She peered into his eyes.
“Well, it’s good that you’re thinking. Keeps the mind active, no?” He seemed barely to listen as he pulled her to him and nuzzled close to breathe in the scent of her hair.
Mari looked at him sweetly. “Aye, but with all of those grand meals and all, I’m fearing I’ll be very tired.” She paused to heave a huge sigh and to wipe her brow with the back of her hand. Callum buried his face in her neck and trailed kisses along it as Mari continued with a frown, as though deep in thought. “Aye, I’m quite certain I’ll be far too tired to make all those bairns you’ve got planned.”
He lifted his head to take in her broad smile. “Now, Mari, there are some things a body is never too tired for.”
“Really? I cannae imagine to what you’re referring.” She turned to look toward the kitchen, but looked back at Callum. “Well, I’d best get to work on that grand meal I’ve got planned for this evening.”
“Now, lass, not so hasty. Let me show you to what I’m referring. I’m referring to this.” He kissed the base of her neck as his hands slid from her shoulders. He slipped his fingertips along the inside of her neckline. “And this.” He untied the ribbon holding her hair and combed his fingers into the strands, and then he leaned down to give her a slow, head-spinning kiss. He kissed her until her arms went limp and rested gently about his neck. He whispered into her ear, “Damn the cooking and washing. Let’s just make bairns.” He proceeded to busy his hands.
Mari smiled. “We’ve got one on the way. It’s a wee bit soon to be making the next one.”
Callum pulled back and held her by the shoulders as he searched her eyes. “A bairn?”
With a light laugh, she said, “Aye.” But as quickly as the laugh came, it went as her eyes shone with tears.
“Och, Mari.” His eyes looked a bit moist as he smiled and then kissed her. He circled his arms about her waist and held her close. His full lips brushed her ear as he said, “‘Tis a good life we’ll have.”
“Aye, I ken it.” She looked up at him while he smoothed back her hair.
His hands slid to her shoulders as his fingers resumed their exploration of the edge of her neckline. “You’ve been on your feet too long today.”
She looked at him as though he were daft. “I’m just fine.”
“No, my love, you must rest—for the sake of the bairn.”
“Must I?” She frowned, sure now that he was daft.
“Och, aye, you must.” In one sudden move, he had her up in his arms, and he carried her off to the bedroom. When she tried to protest, he kissed her—deep kisses that made her forget to resist. Gently, he set her down on the bed. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” he asked as he lowered himself onto her.
“Once or twice,” she said, as she helped pull his leine over his head.
“That’s not nearly enough. Let me show you.”
And he did.
* * *
Author’s Notes
Highland Soldiers is a work of fiction; however, much of the background is rooted in history. Following are some of the customs and events I researched while writing this series:
The Stool of Repentance was a very real part of the 17th Century Scotland church. People were known to commit suicide rather than face the ordeal.
In 1670 King Charles II declared it illegal to worship in any church other than the Church of Scotland. Those caught doing so could be summarily executed on the spot. To enforce this decree, as many as 8,000 Highland soldiers were brought down to the lowlands. So began the period in Scottish history known as The Killing Times. For a moving account if these times, I recommend Scottish Covenanter Stories: Tales from the Killing Times, by Dane Love.
The song lyrics in Chapter 6 are from Child Ballad 110, Collected by Percy Grainger from the singing of Mr William Roberts at Burringham-on-Trent, Lincolnshire, July 1906. Printed in the Folk Song Journal No. 12, vol. III, p.222, and reprinted in Bronson's The Traditional Tunes of the Child Ballads, vol. II, p. 540.
On May 3, 1679, Archbishop Sharp was murdered by a band of Covenanters, which included some lairds, a weaver, and a handful of tenant farmers.
On June 22, 1679, the Battle of Bothwell Brigg was fought. Following the battle, prisoners were marched to Edinburgh’s Covenanter’s Prison in Greyfriar’s Kirkyard. They were kept there for four months, where, according to the Scottish Covenanter Memorial inscription:
Some of the prisoners died here, some were tried and executed for treason, some escaped, and some were freed after signing a bond of loyalty to the Crown…In November 1679 the remaining 257 men, who had been sentenced to transportation overseas, were taken to Leith and placed on board a ship bound for the American colonies; nearly all were drowned when this ship was wrecked in the Orkney islands (where there is a monument in their memory), but 48 of the prisoners survived.
On June 24, 1679, the Privy Council issued orders that, among other things, directed:
If any of the prisoners escape, the sentries may assure themselves to cast the dice, and answer body for body for the fugitives, without any exception; and the officers are to answer for the sentries, and the town of Edinburgh for the officers. And if any of the prisoners escape, the Council will require a particular account, and make them answerable for them.
The next day, the Privy Council directed that no one was to go near the prison gates, except to bring charitable donations of food, which would be distributed equally among the prisoners.
On December 10, 1679, The Crown was wrecked off the coast of Orkney. The captain and crew made no effort to rescue the prisoners locked below deck, presumably because his insurance would cover prisoners who died, but he would receive nothing for escaped prisoners. One crewmember took an axe to the hatch, which allowed fifty prisoners to escape. While most were recaptured and later sent to Jamaican plantations to work, some did escape and make their way home to mainland Scotland.
On December 25, 1679, five Covenanters who had refused to divulge information about the murder of Archbishop Sharp were hanged, despite not having been directly involved with the murder.
Thank You
Thank you for reading Highland Soldiers: The Enemy. I hope you enjoyed it. Please consider leaving a
review to help others find it.
I invite you to sign up for my new release mailing list at http://news.jljarvis.com.
Find More Books by J.L. Jarvis:
Website: jljarvis.com
Follow J.L. Jarvis Online:
Website: jljarvis.com
Tumblr: tumblr.jljarvis.com
Twitter: twitter.jljarvis.com
Pinterest: pinterest.jljarvis.com
Facebook: facebook.jljarvis.com
News: news.jljarvis.com