Rogue Highlander: The Lady Sparrow

by Sondra Grey

  “I don’t wish to be carted around the highlands like a runaway…”

  He leaned down and gripped her chin. “You’ve no notion of how this works. These clans and their Chief’s and chieftains are volatile and proud. One insult to them and they draw their swords. You think your uncle was bluffing when he declared war on me? Oh no. The Gordon’s would love to have a foothold in the hills. And he’d make no moves against The Grant himself, but against a Grant chieftain? Who impregnated his niece? His actions would have been justified, and the Red Bard would have to offer an apology and allow him to keep my lands as his. And if Rob Stewart decides I’ve accused him unjustly, he will challenge me as well. And into battle will go the Grants, the Campbells, the Gordons, and the MacLeods... So, until I know whether or not accusations against my wife are a Stewart ploy, or simply the work of a jealous suitor, you’ll do as I bid.”

  “Then send me back to Rhona. I’d rather stay with her than…”

  “The ride to Maire’s is but a few hours, I can send you with Hugh and Geordie and you’ll be riding through friendly lands the whole time. No. You’ll go to Maire’s. I’ll have Efric and Leona come help you pack.”

  He whirled away and strode towards the door only to stop, spin back and approach again.

  “You’ll do as Maire bids you, too. No wandering into the nearby villages, no putting yourself or the baby in any unnecessary danger…

  “The baby is in no danger if I go visit a sick crofter…”

  He clasped her shoulders, halting her speech. “Isla,” he said, his voice soft. “Don’t disobey me in this. Please. Rumors of witchcraft will follow you. And I’ve no time now to address them. Stay there until I get back, and we will set everything to rights. I promise.”

  Isla closed her eyes, inhaling. Once again, everything was spinning out of her control. At least in Elleric, when she’d been accused, she could run, she could choose her own path. Now, she was being accused again, and this time she was in a position of power – and still could do nothing against the accusations. She could not stand up and defend herself. She could not stick a knife into William Graham. She was being sent away. She wanted control back. She wanted to rage at Calum – but he was right, she knew. He’d been working himself to the bone on behalf of these treaties and now, because she was not honest with him from the first, he was in a terribly tenuous position.

  “Promise me you’ll stay with Maire. I’ve no idea how widely William Graham has spread word of you, and while you’re safe enough with my sister, there’s no telling how safe you’ll be in the surrounding towns.”

  Isla was too upset to say anything and so she nodded. “There’s a lass,” said Calum, but he stepped back rather than kiss her. A wave of distress rolled through Isla and she stepped forward to touch him, but he was already turning from the door.

  “Stay here until I send Hugh for you,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll distract the Stewarts so it’s safe for you to leave.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  T hough the ride to the Campbell’s home was only a few hours, it was the most uncomfortable ride Isla had ever been on. Hugh and Geordie were mute, and Isla found she didn’t know what to say to them. Besides that, riding a horse while five months pregnant was no easy feat.

  When they finally arrived at the Campbell’s it was to learn that Lord Campbell was away visiting relatives in the North, and that the Lady Campbell was in Inverness with Mrs. Allan, but would return in a day or so.

  Hugh took charge from the steward and had the housekeeper arrange a guest room for Isla. He showed her around the castle which was of comparable size to Dundur, but slightly more elegant in trapping. Hugh introduced Isla to his sisters, both under the age of twelve and who – like Hugh – were dark, quiet, and watchful. The castle wasn’t nearly as full as Dundur had seemed, and Hugh explained that most of the clansmen travelled with his father. The absence of the Campbells suited Isla just fine. She was tired and didn’t wish to speak to anyone. She was miserable over the way she and Calum had parted, and had been second guessing herself during the entire ride. She was grateful that she could retire to a quiet room and sleep.

  Lady Campbell came back midday the next day and entered her own home with the same volume and presence with which she’d entered Dundur castle.

  “A sister in law!” the lady boomed, and when Isla emerged from the small library through which she’d been wandering, Maire threw her meaty arms around her and gave her a large, and smacking kiss on the cheek.

  No one had told Maire about the pregnancy, it seemed. And the woman spent a good two hours gawping over the size of Isla’s belly and speculating, loudly, about how far along she was and about the reasons her brother had wed her so quickly.

  “Not that I mind,” said Maire, tugging Isla towards the castle gardens. She was content to show Isla about again, even if Hugh had done it last night.

  “Calum has needed a woman for a good long while now, and he needs a few children to spoil. He has taken on too many responsibilities recently. He needs to remember that he’s a man, not just a chieftain. It’s good he’s someone to ease him. Especially a tall, pretty lass like you! A heart healer!” She laughed at her own alliteration.

  “I don’t think I’ve been any help to his heart,” said Isla, feeling overwhelmed and chilly, for Maire had dragged her outside without a cloak, and it was well past harvest season. Maire didn’t seem to mind the cold, and strode through what was surely a magnificent garden in the spring and summertime. Trees, nearly bare of their foliage, lined an immaculate but browning lawn. The castle had been built on a hill and from the edge of the fading gardens you could see the cold and grey North Sea,

  “He’s a tough nut to crack, our wee Calum,” said Maire, sounding sympathetic, though her volume remained high. “But you’ve a special talent at healing, Isla. I’ve seen your work first hand on my boy. I’m sure you can heal my brother.”

  Isla didn’t respond, and it was her silence that caused Maire to stop walking, to look over at her with curiosity.

  “What it is, then?” she asked, squaring off and putting her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong between you and my brother?”

  Isla shrugged helplessly, unsure of what truths to tell Maire Campbell and what to keep secret. Who knew what Calum had written in the letter Hugh had given his mother?

  With a gaze as keen as her brother’s, Maire assessed Isla’s silence and said, voice slightly softer. “He wrote and said, simply, that there was too much hubbub at the castle. That you were having a hard time with your pregnancy and you needed rest and peace. Is that not the truth of it?”

  Isla shrugged, helplessly, wondering what to offer Maire. “He’s very closed off,” she said, finally. “He demands truth and honesty from me, and gives me little in return. I don’t think he wanted to marry me at all…”

  “What nonsense,” said Maire. “I saw the way he looked at you. Like you were a bucket of water and he was a man dying of thirst…”

  “All the same,” said Isla, not believing that for a moment. “We just don’t seem to, we don’t seem to…” She was at a loss for words, unable to express that, while she and Calum were more than a match physically, she was no match for him in other ways. She was not well educated; she could not do the jobs he needed her to do. He was ashamed of her. While he roamed the Highlands, securing peace and meeting with great clan chiefs and chieftains, she stayed home and butchered menus, picked out ugly drapes, forbidden from doing the one thing in life that gave her any real sense of purpose.

  Maire pursed her lips and folded her arms over her heavy breasts, as though trying to read into Isla’s struggle for words. Finally she nodded. “It’s hard to heal something when you don’t know what ails it, eh?”

  Isla shrugged, helpless. “I suppose that’s part of it,” she allowed.

  Maire rolled her eyes. “Let me tell you something about my brother,” she said. “In many ways, he was a lot like our father. He was stubborn and determined. He wa
s tall, lean, and talented – smart and strong, a quick learner with a quick mind. But our father was naturally a dour and impatient man, and Calum was a fun and mischievous boy who ran afoul of my father more times than I can count… Our brother, on the other hand, was smaller, biddable, and more eager to please. Our father doted on Graeme, and – I think – blamed Calum somehow, for the death of our mother – as if his was the birth that weakened her. Our father kept Graeme close, and sent Calum to foster at the Red Bard’s keep. And when Calum came home, our father did nothing but berate him. When Graeme died…”

  Maire shook her head. “Imagine living your entire life to please someone who can’t be pleased. Calum was caught in the middle – he was so sure of himself, and he pushed himself so hard to be the best. The best swordsman, the best student… but it was never enough for our father. And when Graeme died on the battle-field, when our father disowned Calum, when his fiancé married another man… You know how Calum gained the clan back?”

  Isla nodded.

  “Well, such a thing might have caused a war. But the clan trusted Calum, trusted that he was not our father. That he would do his best by them. He has given his life to them, since. It’s as if he’s still trying to prove to our father that he’s worthy. As if the old man is still watching.”

  She reached out and clasped Isla’s wrist. “That he married you was probably one of the more selfish things he’s done, and I’m sure he still feels a bit of guilt over that. But it looks as if you feel guilty too.” Maire shook her head. “No more guilt. What my brother needs is a bit of freedom. And you can be that for him, Isla. You can be his haven, you can make him smile again.”

  Maire smiled at her, and it was fond, but worried. “He wants to protect his clansmen and their families; he wants to be of service to the clan chief whom he feels he owes a deep debt of gratitude. And now he’s newly married with a babe on the way – no doubt he’s just feeling overwhelmed.”

  Isla knew that Maire meant to ease her feelings of guilt, but all this talk did was heighten them. Maire was wrong, Calum hadn’t wanted to marry her. He’d said as much in their study before he left: he’d married her to stop the Earl of Huntly from seizing his lands and his castle. And now he was trying to smooth over the problems she’d caused with his latest negotiations.

  Maire spent most of the day at Isla’s side, as if suspecting that, if she were on her own, Isla would close herself into her room and give in to melancholy.

  “It’s no good for the babe to be so sad,” Maire said. “It’s good to keep busy.” And so that day and the next, she kept Isla at her side as she went through her day-to-day running the castle. The mundanity of the chores made Isla want to weep with boredom. And after five days of shadowing Maire, Isla had forgone her melancholy for a slowly building murderous fury. Maire’s volume was grating, her constant stream of chatter seemed inane, and while Isla was perfectly aware that Maire was trying to subtly show her how to run her own castle (no doubt Mrs. Allan had said something to her!), Isla was beyond appreciating the effort.

  She felt trapped in the castle and trapped in her own body. The baby was moving constantly, especially at night when she was trying to sleep. Her ankles were beginning to swell and her back and pelvis ached unabatedly. She felt useless as well. It was clear that Maire had been raised to manage an estate such as this one. Whenever someone brought Maire a problem, she had a solution, an opinion, an answer. She would, occasionally, seek Isla’s input and Isla did her best to try and aid, but her instincts were usually contrary to Maire’s.

  When a boy was sick with fever, you provided him herbs, applied a cold compress. And waited for the fever to break. There was no waiting in running a household, no leaving people to their own devices, and hoping nature ran its course. Like healing, there were specific solutions to specific problems, but Isla had studied healing since she was a girl. Running a house meant understanding people – and Isla couldn’t understand what motivated kitchen maids to argue to the point of coming to blows, or why Maire didn’t intervene when one of the kennel boys showed up with bruises all over his arms and legs.

  By the sixth day, Isla was ready to strangle Lady Campbell, just to get a bit of quiet. To make matters worse, Greer and Fergus arrived.

  Maire didn’t seem to share her brother’s suspicion for the clansman and his wife. She greeted them as family and bid them enter.

  “I’m surprised Fergus, to see you here,” said Maire, her usual loud voice carrying down hall where Isla was just entering. “Is my brother at home then? I’d have thought he was still travelling with the Stewarts.”

  “He came back a few nights ago,” said Greer. Isla halted in her tracks. He was home then? The Stewarts were gone and he had not come to get her?

  “Curious,” said Maire. Isla could almost see her shrugging that piece of troubling information away. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  “I want to go to Inverness and see Mrs. Allan,” said Greer. “Fergus said he’d take me. But we thought we might stop here and call on family first.”

  Isla walked quietly into the hall in time to see Greer send her husband an overly sappy smile. Fergus smiled back her, but his smile was small. His eyes had found Isla, and he’d nodded his head to her in greeting.

  “Isla,” said Maire, turning. “We’ve some company tonight. Can you get Margaret to set up some of the rooms, and tell her there will be two more for supper this evening?” She turned towards the stair and bellowed, “HUGH!” and waited a minute until Hugh came jogging down the stairs. The boy blinked, seeing Fergus standing there, but got over his momentary surprise and grasped the clansmen’s forearm in greeting, bowing his head to Greer.

  “Hugh, will you entertain our cousins while I see to a small matter?”

  Hugh nodded at his mother, and Maire turned swiftly on her heal and strode towards where Isla was just backing out of the hall.

  On her way past, Maire gripped Isla’s wrist firmly and dragged her towards the kitchens at an even swifter pace. “Lord knows I can’t stand that woman, and she knows it too. Why are they here? Inverness is but another two hours west…”

  She was muttering to herself, and as they got into the kitchens Maire placed her hands on her hips and stared at the kitchen staff, who cleared the place swiftly enough that Isla wondered how many times Maire came in here to speak to someone privately.

  “She’s up to no good, I tell you! Announcing that Calum had returned a few days ago! She wants to make trouble with you, is all. And don’t believe a word of it! The look on my cousin’s face! Did you see it? No?? He’s no idea why they’re here either. Well never you mind,” said Maire, flinging an exasperated hand up at Isla’s silence. “You just stay out of her way. Best way to thwart Greer is to not give her the pleasure of your attention. Be as deaf as you can around her, Isla, understand?”

  Isla nodded mutely, because she did understand. She understood exactly the information Greer had imparted. Calum had returned, and he’d not sent for her.

  Isla had no trouble doing as Maire bid. There was much to be done in the kitchens and Maire hated anything that required tedious, repetitive labor, whereas Isla found the simpler tasks the most pleasant. When Maire left and the servants came back to the kitchens, Isla took a seat and began de-feathering one of the ducks they’d be eating for dinner.

  She was nearly done with the bird when Greer came into the kitchens.

  “Maire Campbell is so cruel, sticking you in here like a servant,” said Greer, smiling sunnily at Isla and taking the chair across the table from her. The servants pretended as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and Isla bit down the defense that had come to her lips. She didn’t need to defend herself to this woman.

  “Although I suppose there must be a bit of peace to be had, plucking a bird – so much easier than running a castle.”

  Isla glanced up, but Greer was smiling at her innocently. Reaching for a basket of mushrooms, the pale, blond beauty began removing the
ir stems.

  “Certainly less harrowing than healing the sick,” Greer continued, and her tone was so light she might indeed have been having a pleasant conversation. Since she’d not asked Isla a direct question, Isla merely shrugged.

  “Should be a bad winter for illness too.” Greer examined one of the mushrooms closely, and placed it to the side. “Half the village of Banchor is come down with something. We tried to cross through on our way here and were told to head around it.”

  “What sort of illness?” Isla couldn’t help herself, she looked up to where Greer was shrugging, examining a mushroom a bit more closely than the fungus warranted.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Something terrible, I’m sure. Aren’t some of the servants here from round those parts? You girl!” she called to a young red-headed woman who’d been cleaning dishes in the corner. “Are any of you from Banchor?”

  “I’m from Dulsie, ma’am,” said the woman. “But Berta is from Banchor.” She nodded to the slender woman kneading bread over at another table.

  “Are you from Banchor? What’s the sickness there? It’s not a plague, is it?”

  The servant named Berta frowned at Greer and shrugged. “Happens some winters. When the traders come through on their way to Inverness. But it’s bad this year. We’ve had three of our young ones pass in the last three weeks.”

  “That’s terrible,” said Isla, her mind going back to the sickness that had come over Elleric. So many had died then, and a good half had been children. “What happens to them? Fever? Purging?”

  “Aye, the both. They claim to ache head to foot. They soil themselves. No marks, though. No pox or boils. Just hot and colds – and aches, and they can’t keep anything down. The ones who are hale, they’re bed ridden and then they get better. But the young and the old… they’re normally the worst afflicted.”

  Isla shook her head. She’d never found anything normal about sickness. Deirdre had always claimed that you could avoid getting ill by guarding the air you breathed – by keeping things clean and orderly, by taking certain herbs…