by Jen McConnel
Tammy laughed nervously. “There’s a fun topic of conversation for a vacation.”
“Something about this place makes me wonder, that’s all.”
Nodding, Tammy said, “I know what you mean. It’s hard not to, knowing we’re standing above so many dead men.”
“Tammy,” Lou asked cautiously, “do you believe in heaven?”
Her friend looked at her oddly. “I went through confirmation, the same as you. I’d guess we believe the same things.”
Lou shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems like everyone believes in some kind of life after death, but I’ve always thought that heaven would be boring.”
Tammy laughed. “I know what you mean. All those angels and harps!”
“I just don’t want this to be it, you know?”
Her friend frowned. “You mean, like reincarnation or something?”
“Maybe.” Lou looked down at the clan stone, resisting the urge to reach for her silver pentacle. “Maybe something like that.”
“The cold is making you crazy.” Tammy shivered. “Let’s get back on the bus, I’m freezing!”
Before she followed her friend, Lou knelt down and touched the stone gently. “I’m sorry you’ve been forgotten here.” She whispered. Suddenly self-conscious, she glanced around. Her eyes met Brian’s, and her stomach turned over. Just looking at him was enough to make her woozy. Brian looked away after a moment, but her stomach didn’t calm down.
When Lou boarded the bus, he didn’t say anything, but he smiled at her gently and she felt her skin warming under his gaze. What would it be like to hold him? Despite Tammy’s sudden interest in the tour guide, Lou couldn’t quite let go of her fantasy. She settled into her seat with a sigh and shut her eyes.
“Have ye had enough of the Highlands, folks?” Brian’s voice echoed through the bus, and the tired tourists nodded and chuckled. “We’ll be back in Edinburgh tonight, so just sit back and enjoy the rest of the drive. If ye don’t mind, I’ll put some music on to help us pass the time. There’s nothing I like better,” he added, “than driving on a rainy afternoon.”
Lou smiled. Brian seemed like he loved everything about his homeland, even the rain. His enthusiasm made him even more attractive, but Lou tried to distract herself. There was no use going down that road; she didn’t stand a chance with Brian.
Tammy yawned beside her. “The bed and breakfast thing has been quaint and all that, but I can’t wait to get back to the hotel in Edinburgh. I think I’ll take a long bath.”
“That sounds good. Will you crack open the whiskey, too?” When the group had stopped at a distillery that morning, Tammy and Lou each purchased a bottle of the rich, gold liquid. On a whim, Lou had also bought a small bottle of a liqueur made from heather, the feathery flower that seemed to grow everywhere in Scotland.
Tammy cocked her head to one side, considering. “I’d like to, but I think it’ll be easier to get the stuff through customs if we haven’t opened it.”
That made sense to Lou, so she nodded, but she was secretly disappointed to have lost her excuse to try something new.
“What do you think we should do tomorrow?”
Lou thought for a moment. “You don’t have any more family gatherings for a while, right?”
Tammy nodded. “The next one isn’t until the 30th, right before we leave on the 31st.”
Lou grinned at her friend. “I’ve never been in the air on New Year’s. That’ll be fun!”
Leaning back against her seat, Lou stared out the window. The scenery that they passed looked washed out, like a painting that has been left out in the sun for too long. Gradually, the view out the window shifted from images of simple pastoral homes to larger stone buildings.
“Well, folks, looks like we’re close to Edinburgh. There’s a tradition on Hamish tours. We’ve shared our travels, so we should share a drink, as well.”
Everyone laughed, and Brian continued.
“Once the bus is back and unloaded, we’ll gather at the Lion and the Rose, just up the block from our offices. I hope you’ll join me for a drink and a laugh before we go our separate ways.”
The people on the bus cheered and clapped, and Lou applauded as well. At least she’d have an excuse to spend a little more time with Brian. Her stomach flipped when she realized that after tonight, she’d never see him again. Watching as he made his way down the aisle, chatting with each person as he passed, Lou felt her spirits sinking even lower.
“And will the Americans be joining us?” Suddenly, Brian was standing in the aisle beside Tammy, smiling down at the girls.
Tammy dimpled and looked up at him coyly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s not every day we get to hang out with such a handsome Scotsman!”
Lou blushed, and Brian seemed a little disconcerted by Tammy’s comment. He glanced at Lou for a moment before she turned away to stare out the window once more.
“It’ll be good to have you lasses there tonight. Both of you.”
Tammy sighed as Brian moved away. “I better make a move tonight.”
Staring out the window at the cascading rain, Lou bit her lip and remained silent.
1657
When she first heard that her sister was with child, Isobel was attending another birth in the village of Saint Andrews. This had been a more difficult birth than most, but mother and infant were recovering well, and the proud father had already been given the news of the birth of yet another bonny son. It was as Isobel was cleaning her hands and instruments outside the birthing room that she heard the other women speak the name of her sister, Margaret. The women must have forgotten the scandal surrounding the Key sisters, or perhaps they had never known of it, but they spoke freely, not caring or noticing that Isobel was drinking in their every word. She heard them praising God and the saints for the miraculous pregnancy of Mistress Nairn who, at last, had conceived of a child. Laughing, the women joked that they had all been certain she was barren, after all this time, but that now as her belly began to show, it was clear that she was not.
Isobel did not pause in what she was doing, nor did she give any sign that she had heard the women speak, but that night when she had returned to her cottage, she sat up late, thinking about her sister. Margaret was barely a child when she wed Alexander, and Isobel was certain that it was not her sister who lured away her love, but rather his own fickle heart to blame. Long into the night, past the witching hour, Isobel sat and thought, and when the sun rose, she rose to greet it, resolved in her heart that she would seek out her sister and offer her services as a midwife, and there make amends for their falling out those years past. It was a new day dawning, and a chance to repair the damages of the past.
Chapter Twelve
“Your friend was the one who was so interested in the witch stories, right?” Lou looked up to find Brian standing over her. After a round of drinks with everyone, she had been sitting by herself in a corner, quietly reading Tammy’s guidebook while her friend laughed and joked with a few of the other travelers up at the bar. She hadn’t expected Brian to seek her out, and her mouth froze when she realized he was talking to her.
Unperturbed by her silence, Brian smoothly pulled a chair out, spun it around, and straddled it. He folded his arms across the back and looked intently at Lou. “Were you interested in any of the witch stories?”
Lou suddenly remembered how to speak. “I think it was terribly sad.” The words flew out of her mouth before she could think, and she blushed as soon as she said them. Brian didn’t look surprised, just interested.
“What’s so sad about ancient history?”
His eyes were bright blue, Lou noticed, and they were staring straight at her. She felt her face getting hot, and once again her spine began to tingle and dance. Unnerved, she fumbled with her words, trying to make him understand without revealing too much of herself. “Well, it’s sad then, but it isn’t totally ancient history, is it? I mean,” she continued as he looked at her encouragingly, “I mean, people
were killed for things they believed, or didn’t believe, things that other people were afraid of, and isn’t that the same as now, when people are killed for being different?” Her words rushed out of her mouth, tumbling faster now that she had an audience. “I mean, hate crimes still happen, and even though there isn’t a trial or a stake, isn’t it the same as what happened to all those witches?” She finished in a rush and held her breath.
“You know, Louisa, I never really thought of it that way before, but that’s a good point.” He paused, considering. “Do you think hate crimes wouldn’t happen if people were willing to learn more about each other?”
She nodded at him, too surprised that he remembered her name to correct him, and stunned that he agreed with her. Brian seemed to want her to keep talking, so she swallowed nervously and took a chance. “I had thought that I might be able to clear some of their names.” He looked confused for a moment, so she rushed on. “Witches, I mean. I am sure that in our modern era most of the charges that were raised against those poor people would seem ridiculous and wouldn’t be accepted. I just…maybe I could write something to help people to understand.”
Brian looked at her thoughtfully. “So you’re a writer, then? I thought you might be an artist.” He gestured to the clunky camera sitting on the table, and Lou laughed.
“No, I’m not a writer, or an artist,” she added quickly. “I’m just—curious, I guess.”
He smiled at her, and Lou felt her feet melt. “Would you like to learn more about some of the witches in Scotland? Maybe you could speak for them, and clear up the misunderstandings.” He chuckled kindly, and she looked at him wide-eyed. Was he offering to help her? She shivered, thinking of the old crone in Lochalsh.
Brian smiled easily and continued, “I have some research to do myself on some more folklore and Highland stories, for a tour the company wants to put together for next Halloween, and I had planned on leaving tonight for St. Andrews. Have you been there yet?” Lou shook her head, speechless. The hot Scot was asking her to travel with him! Her heart soared.
He went on. “I’ve already made arrangements to stay with a friend, but I’m sure the hostel there won’t be overbooked at this time of the season. Maybe you and your friend would like to take a bit of a detour with me to learn a bit more.”
Lou’s face fell when Brian mentioned Tammy. Of course. He probably wanted an excuse to spend more time with Tammy. Even as her heart sank, her mind latched onto the idea of learning about the poor men and women who had been murdered centuries ago. The witches were fascinating, and she’d really like to learn more, even if Brian weren’t interested in her.
“Okay. Okay, let’s do it! Let me talk to Tammy, and we’ll meet you at the train station?” Brian smiled at her as he stood up.
“I’ll be there in a half hour, and I’ll look for you lassies on the lower platform. I’ll get tickets for you both, to speed things up.” With those words, he was gone, and Lou was stunned. What was she thinking? She didn’t want to spend the rest of her vacation as a third wheel while Tammy seduced Brian, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to spend more time with him, even if that meant watching him hook up with Tammy.
Before she could chicken out, she got up from the table and approached her friend. She paused a moment, not wanting to interrupt the raucous conversation, but then she glanced at her watch. Brian hadn’t given them much time.
She tapped her best friend on the shoulder. “Tammy, there’s been a change of plans.”
1657
When Isobel walked into the heart of the village, she was surprised by how much had changed since her childhood. Scholars did not generally come with wives and births to attend, so it had been many years since she had been in this area of the town.
The university itself seemed larger, which Isobel assumed was due to the natural progress of the times: people were coming from as far away as Ireland to attend the university of Saint Andrews, a point of pride which every local knew and repeated to each other frequently. The buildings were taller than Isobel remembered, and she got lost twice trying to find the place she had heard her sister and her husband had been living.
When she finally stood before the blue painted door, Isobel paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She did not anticipate having to see him, but if she did, she promised herself that for the sake of the love she bore her sister, she would treat him with civility. His presence would not ultimately matter one way or the other, she reminded herself, as she was here on women’s business. She straightened her shoulders and knocked twice on the door.
It was opened almost immediately by Margaret, although it took Isobel a moment of staring dumbfound to recognize her baby sister. The years had matured Margaret from a tender youth to a ripe young woman, rosy cheeked and with the glow about that all mothers experienced in the early days of pregnancy. Margaret was positively radiant, and for the first time Isobel felt the weight of her years and realized that she was as old as a crone when taken side by side with her adorable baby sister. Her sister stood there with the door open, looking at her in some confusion, and then recognition swept across her face and she flung herself forward to embrace Isobel.
The two women shared a tear-filled reunion as Margaret led Isobel into her home. There they sat, close to the fire for hours, speaking of all the events that had befallen them each in the ten years apart from one another. They did not speak of Alexander, but they talked at length of Margaret’s pregnancy, and Isobel’s offer to serve as midwife was met with enthusiastic approval. The women were on to their second pot of tea when the blue door swung open and he stepped into the room.
Isobel felt sure that her heart would cease to beat, looking upon her love for the first time in a decade, but she felt only the jolt of a surprise visitor, nothing more. Her breathing remained steady, her heart constant, and she rose with poise to greet her brother-in-law. He stared at her as if fearful of something, and barely paid his courtesies before swooping up Margaret and covering her with kisses, quite to the consternation of both sisters.
When his bride joyously told him of her sister’s offer, his reply was cold and final. He did not hold with such witchly arts, he said; this was a home of a scholar, and the child of a scholar, he said; he had already written to an old friend, a doctor with a practice in Edinburgh, and had secured his services to help with the birthing. Therefore, he said, Isobel’s offer was kind but unnecessary. With that dismissal, he turned from the women and entered the bedroom at the back of the house. Margaret tried to apologize, but Isobel pressed her hand tightly and told her that her offer still stood, no matter what, and that her sister should always know that she could send for her if ever she had a need, medical or emotional. The women embraced, and Isobel began the lonely walk back to her cottage in the woods.
Her thoughts turned deep as she walked. The complaint of her brother-in-law was not a new one, she considered. There had been times, few enough due to her reputation for safe birthing, but times nonetheless where a doctor had been sent for in her place: times where, if memory served, the decision to dispense with her services came not from the wives in labor, but from their concerned husbands.
It seemed to her that men were more apt to look upon the matters of women and find evidence of witchery, and the birthing room seemed a natural place for those fears to manifest, since even the most skilled midwife or the best trained doctor was no guarantee of a live birth and a living mother. This had never bothered Isobel before, for there was no lack of work for her hands to do, and she bore no animosity toward the household who turned toward modern science rather than the ancient herbal arts she practiced.
But now, walking home with Alexander’s words ringing in her ears, Isobel felt a shiver of fear. Never had anyone spoken of witchcraft in connection with her healing arts; at least, never before had they so spoken directly to her face. For the first time in ten years, she began to consider that perhaps she was the better off for not having been Alexander’s bride, after all.
Chapter Thirteen
The train was more crowded than Lou had expected. Even though they had tickets with seat numbers printed on them, Lou, Tammy, and Brian found themselves standing, packed in like sardines, and Lou was reminded of her daily experience taking the “T” to work in Boston.
“Is this a commuter train?” Tammy seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Lou when she asked Brian the question.
“No, but lots of Scots like to travel during the holidays. I would wager that most of these folks are college kids going home to families.”
“But isn’t there a college in St. Andrews?” Lou asked.
Brian laughed. “Aye, there’s a ‘college’ there; the oldest university in the land!”
Lou blushed. “I didn’t realize.”
“That’s alright. I doubt I would be able to name the oldest university in America.”
Just then, the train jolted into a station, and Lou swayed against Brian.
“Sorry,” she muttered, not looking up. Her skin tingled from their brief contact.
“Not a problem, lass. So, what brings you both to my fair land?”
“We’re on vacation.” Tammy made a face. “God, how obvious. Of course it’s a vacation.”
Brian laughed. “Why Scotland?”
“My great-aunt lives in Edinburgh, and my parents wanted me to meet her.
The redheaded Scot smiled. “It’s handy to have family all over, isn’t it?” He turned his face toward Lou. “And what do you do, Louisa?”
Before she could answer, Tammy jumped in. “Lou’s unemployed. Isn’t that great?”
Blushing, Lou tried to explain. “I just quit my job before this trip. I just graduated in August, and I used to work in retail, but I hated it.”
“That’s what we were celebrating the other night in Inverness.” Tammy added.
Brian nodded. “It’s not good to do something that makes you miserable, so I’d say you should keep celebrating! What are your plans now?”