“Is there any hot water? I’m filthy.” She saw him looking around until he saw the jug of wine, and he took a long swig and slumped into a chair.
“Ye must be hungry,” Isobel was quickly thinking of how to ask for food without revealing his presence in her chamber.
“I’m famished, but dinnae fash. I’ll get something later. The sight of ye is all I need.” He looked at her with such longing, it melted her heart.
“I am so happy to see ye. Yer letters are the only thing that’s kept me going these past months.” Suddenly, her gaze flew to the door. “John is nae here, is he?”
“No, lass. It’s just me and Dougal. John is dancing attendance on the king. We’ve come back to try to re-recruit the men who fled, and Dougal had an ulterior motive for volunteering. I trust they will be needing us tomorrow.” With that, he took off his dusty coat and drew her to him again. He held her close and smelled her hair as he ran his fingers through the fiery curls.
“Shall I stay here tonight, love? I’ll leave afore dawn, so yer maid willnae see me.”
Isobel nodded, wrapping her arms around him and putting her ear to his chest. His heartbeat was like the steady beating of a drum and she felt reassured that he was well. Isobel undid his belt and the kilt fell to the floor at her feet. She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her hands over his body taking inventory. Rory looked amused and pulled her shift off, kissing her soundly as he walked her backward to the bed. He started to caress her, but she didn’t want caresses. She moved his hand away and opened her legs in invitation. Rory gave her a look of understanding and rammed himself inside her. He didn’t want to play either. He wanted oblivion that could only be found inside her. She matched him thrust for thrust and when he collapsed on top of her drained and sated, she felt complete.
She laid her head on his shoulder and listened to his breathing as it became shallow and even. He needed his rest and she needed to feel him next to her. She stayed awake half the night, not wanting to give up a moment with him, but eventually she couldn’t fight sleep any longer and dozed off.
When the pearly light of morning began to filter through the leaded windows, Rory slipped out of the room. She half heard him go, but couldn’t rouse herself from sleep. She heard Bess entering a short time later and kindling the fire. Isobel felt at peace knowing that she would see Rory later. They would stay for a few days trying to talk the men into going back. She had time.
Chapter 43
Rory prudently decided not to tell Isobel of last night’s adventures. He didn’t want her to worry and no harm had been done, at least not to him.
After a long day in the saddle, Rory and Dougal had chosen a wooded spot away from the road to make camp for the night. They hadn’t encountered anyone on the road for hours, and the only sounds they heard were the hooting of owls and the wind blowing through the bare branches of the trees, their skeletal limbs black against the winter sky. They had bought some bread and sausage in the last village they passed and were looking forward to their meager meal. They hadn’t eaten since that morning, and Dougal’s stomach rumbled loudly as he sat back on his legs and started to kindle the fire.
Rory walked off into the woods to relieve himself after the long ride, and breathed in the fresh country air scented with pine and the smoke of their campfire. He finished, and adjusting his kilt, walked a few steps back to the campsite when he heard voices carried on the wind. Dougal had been alone, so they had either been joined by some locals or had been spotted by an English patrol. Rory crept toward the fire, hiding behind the thicker trees.
He could see Dougal on his knees, illuminated by the flames of the fire as the Redcoat held a gun to his head. The second soldier had his gun pointed into the woods peering nervously into the darkness. Rory quickly went over his options. The soldiers obviously knew that Dougal wasn’t alone. The second horse grazing next to Dougal’s very effectively ruined Rory’s element of surprise. He had his sword, but to charge out of the woods with a sword was suicide when faced with two loaded guns.
Rory silently bent down and pulled the dirk out of his stocking. He had only one chance to get this right, and he said a quick prayer asking God to guide his hand. The dagger whizzed silently through the trees piercing the throat of the soldier facing the woods. Dougal seized his moment, and grabbing his assailant around the knees, brought him down on the hard ground pinning him with his weight. The soldier dropped the gun as he fell and Dougal grabbed for it, using the butt to smash the Englishman’s face until it was reduced to a mass of bloody pulp.
Rory came out of the woods and walked over to his victim. Blood was spurting from the man’s throat, but he was still mouthing silent cries begging for help that wouldn’t come. Rory picked up the soldier’s rifle and drove the bayonet under his ribs into the heart. He watched the man’s eyes look up toward the heavens as death took him into its cold embrace.
Rory pulled the dagger out of the corpse and wiped it on the soldier’s red tunic. He loved that dirk.
“We should bury them,” he said quietly. He was exhausted, and they had no shovel or any other tool that could be used for digging.
Dougal was still staring at the bloodied corpse at his feet. He looked at Rory with a sad smile.
“I’m too tired, brother. Let’s just throw them into a ditch, and have our supper.”
Rory shrugged and helped Dougal lift the first man. They tossed the Englishmen into a nearby ditch and said a prayer for the repose of their souls. Dougal fashioned a cross out of two sticks, and drove it into the soft ground above the corpses, leaving the dead to their eternal rest and returning to the campsite to eat their meager meal.
Chapter 44
Rory had been right about Dougal and Anna. Isobel saw Anna running through the courtyard from the Hall window. Her blue cloak was billowing around her and her hood was falling off, her dark curls spilling onto her shoulders. Isobel went to meet her friend and Anna flew straight into her arms.
“Isobel, Dougal is back. He’ll be here for a few days. Will ye come with us to kirk this morning? We are finally going to be wed. Rory is here too. He slept at the forge last night,” at this she gave Isobel a loaded look and went on, “I am so happy. I only wish we could have a bit of privacy afore he goes back.”
Isobel considered the situation. Anna lived in a crowded cottage with her parents and siblings, and Dougal lived behind the forge. There was nowhere for the newlyweds to go since they’d had no time to prepare a home of their own. Isobel had an idea.
“Anna, you must come here after the wedding. We’ll have a feast in the Hall, and then you must use my husband’s chamber. He’s away and it’s been empty these past months. Please accept it as my contribution to yer marital happiness. I promise ye will not be disturbed.” This time it was Isobel who gave Anna the meaningful look and the girls burst into giggles.
“Aye, thank ye. That will be just grand. I’ll tell Dougal. Can ye be ready in an hour?” Anna was already running off. Isobel smiled at her happiness and went to change her gown and fetch her cloak.
Anna didn’t have a new gown for her wedding and Dougal looked worn and disheveled, but their happiness was obvious to everyone around them. Rory smiled at Isobel wistfully as the happy couple said their vows in front of the old priest, oblivious to everyone around them. She knew what he was thinking and wished that such happiness was possible for them as well.
The feast wasn’t a very grand one, being attended mostly by women, children and old folks. Joan was noticeably absent, and Isobel was only too happy not to have her at the castle to observe her and Rory together. Why give her more ammunition? The bridal pair had eyes only for each other and retired to the Laird’s chamber as soon as they decently could. Isobel gave strict orders not to disturb them and eventually made her escape.
She had asked Bess for hot water for her bath and sneaked up some cake and apples for later. The water was wonderfully hot, and Isobel took off her clothes and lowered herself into the copper tub. She
didn’t have to wait long for Rory to join her. He lowered himself into the warm water and gave a sigh of pleasure. He hadn’t had a real bath in weeks and was only too glad to share hers. Isobel washed his hair and scrubbed his back, and giggled as he tried to get amorous in a tub clearly meant for one.
There was a large puddle by the time they finally got out and climbed into bed. Bess wasn’t expected back tonight and had orders not to come in the morning, so as not to disturb the newlyweds. Rory would stay the night. Tonight there was no need to rush.
Rory told her that the Highland Army had advanced into England as far as Derby and Manchester, but had to retreat back to Scotland in early December pursued by English troops. The army was short on supplies and munitions and most men were in desperate need of boots and warm clothes. The situation didn’t bode well for the Scots, but Isobel didn’t want to dwell on the issues. She was happy to have Rory back and he was all she cared about as they got out of the tub and went to bed.
**
Rory and Dougal left in two days, followed by five men. They didn’t have much success talking the others into returning. The men who remained behind were farmers who didn’t share the political ambitions of the young King. They wanted independence from England and a monarch of their own, not to fight for the Stuarts to reclaim the English throne from the Hanovers. The spring planting was in a few months’ time, and they intended to be there to see it through.
Isobel stood by the gate until she could no longer see the riders and then headed back inside. It was cold out and a layer of snow covered the frozen mud. She would go see Anna. She would need to be comforted since she was facing another separation from Dougal.
July 2010
Chapter 45
I lay my head down on my folded arms and sighed in defeat. We’d been going through dusty old books all morning and found absolutely nothing. There had been references to McBrides, and specifically to John Donald McBride, chieftain of Clan McBride, but nothing about anyone with initials R.A.M. John had been beheaded in London, so he was mentioned in several historical sources.
I was hungry, tired, and bored. Danny had a few more books in front of him, but looked like he was ready to call it a day and go get some lunch, so I took a stack of books and went to return them to the reference desk. When I came back to our table, Danny looked ecstatic.
“Look at this. I got him.” I looked at the book. It was about the tales of Culloden and there was a small blurb that Danny was pointing to. It read:
“Despite the fact that the British kept copious records of the dead and imprisoned, there were several well-known Jacobites who were never accounted for. One such person was Rory Alexander McBride, War Chieftain of the McBride clan. He was well-known among the rebels and was often seen in the company of the king. He disappeared after the fateful battle of Culloden never to be heard from again.”
I put down the book. So, we had our man and we knew that he’d also gone missing. I was still pondering this information as we sat down in the pub across the street. I took a sip of my iced tea and looked across at Danny.
“They both vanished. What does that tell you?” I felt like a detective who just had a breakthrough in the case. Danny took a long pull of his beer and gave me a thoughtful glance.
“You’re jumping to conclusions. We assume that he is the right person and if he is, we know they were lovers. They both disappeared some time after Culloden. However, there could be many other explanations.”
“Like what?” I asked stubbornly, wanting a happy ending for the lovers.
“He might have been killed and wrongly identified, or taken prisoner and given a different name to the British. There was a price on his head and he would have been executed right along with John. Giving a false name might have saved his life. It doesn’t necessarily mean that they ran away together. She might have jumped off the tower, as legend suggests, whether mourning her husband or her lover, or both. Her body could have smashed on the rocks and been washed away before anyone found it. That would explain her disappearance.”
“Is there not a romantic bone in your body?” I demanded. I was upset by his theories, and wanted them to have lived happily ever after.
“I take great offense at that,” Danny said in mock hurt. “I have a very romantic soul, but I’m a lawyer. I need evidence and proof. You’re making assumptions based on an old story and a few sentences in an ancient book. There’s no proof. And anyway, why are you so eager to know that they ended up together? She was an adulteress, and he was cuckolding his cousin. Not exactly sweet and innocent, were they?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think it was like that. Her marriage was probably arranged by her father and maybe her husband was a brute. They just remind me of Romeo and Juliet,” I replied, realizing how lame that sounded.
“We still have a few letters; maybe we’ll find proof. Maybe he says something about running away together,” I insisted.
“Okay, we’ll read the rest of them tonight and see what we can find out. I’m kind of curious myself.” With that Danny tucked into his burger and I was left with my theories.
After lunch we decided to take a walking tour of Edinburgh. Danny suggested that we walk down the Royal Mile toward Holyrood Palace where we could take a tour. The Royal Mile was crowded with tourists, and the shop owners were doing a brisk trade in kilts, dirk letter openers and mugs bearing the likeness of the prince. Despite the shops and cafes, I could imagine what the street had been like a few hundred years ago. The cobblestone street led us down the hill toward the palace. Many narrow streets branched out from the main road, and we wandered into some of them just to get a feel for the place. The houses were old with low ceilings and small windows, and the alleyways were almost completely dark despite the brightness of the day.
We continued to walk toward Holyrood, catching sight of it as we finally descended the hill. I was impressed by the grandeur of the place, and tried to imagine Prince Charles holding court in the elegantly appointed rooms of the palace during his brief reign. Had Isobel’s lover really walked these halls and dined with the king? I wondered if he had been handsome, and if her husband knew of the affair.
After completing our tour of Holyrood, we walked toward Edinburgh Cathedral, where I spent a long time looking up at the magnificent stained glass windows and trying to decipher the biblical stories they told. Danny finally had to pull me outside of the dim interior into the late afternoon sunshine. We made our way to the statue of Sir Walter Scott. “Ivanhoe” had been one of my favorite books when I was a teenager and I wanted to see the man who had written it. The statue was in a lovely park, and we strolled among the flower beds enjoying the gorgeous day and each other’s company.
“I am surprised there is no statue of J.K. Rowling. At this point she is much more famous than Sir Walter Scott,” I joked.
“Are you a Harry Potter fan?” Danny was clearly surprised.
“Guilty as charged. I like fairy tales.”
“I noticed,” he said with a smile.
Chapter 46
When we got back to Inverness, Danny went to take a shower and I headed straight for the phone. I wanted to call Sophia and tell her about our discovery at the archives. She’d been incredulous when I told her about my dream and the stack of letters we found, and was waiting for information with great anticipation. I dialed her number and listened to it ring, wondering if she were at home. It would be lunchtime in New York and it being Saturday, she might be out. Sophia picked up on the eighth ring sounding very weepy.
“Katie, I’m so glad it’s you. I called you at the inn, but they told me that you left.” It was completely out of character for her not to ask where I’d gone, so I became instantly concerned.
“What’s happened, Soph?”
“My life is a Greek tragedy!” I was glad to see she hadn’t lost her sense of humor. Obviously this had something to do with her family.
“Tell me what happened. From the beginning!”
S
ophia had a habit of just going to the gist of the problem, and I needed to hear the whole story before commenting on the situation. She took a deep breath and began.
“Last night Jesse was waiting for me after work. He was supposed to work late, but his meeting got canceled and he came to surprise me. It was a gorgeous evening, and we went to that little place in Little Italy that I love. I could sense that he was nervous and suddenly I felt sick to my stomach. I just knew that my life was about to change in some significant way. I almost wanted to make an excuse and run away.” She sounded so miserable that I was beginning to wonder if Jesse had broken up with her.
“Go on,” I prompted while she blew her nose noisily into the phone.
“Dinner was really nice, despite my stomach doing somersaults, and just when I thought I’d imagined the whole thing — there it was. The waiter brought out a whole cheesecake with “Sophia will you marry me?” written across the top, and a diamond ring in place of the dot over the “i” in my name. It should have been the happiest night of my life, but I just wanted to cry.”
She was certainly crying now, and I wished I could have been there to give her a hug and talk this out. Not that there was really anything to discuss. I knew exactly what this meant. Sophia had come to a crossroads, and either way she went, she would be making a sacrifice. Her parents had come to the States when they were in their early thirties, and despite their youth, remained firmly set in the old ways. Most of their lives took place within the Greek community, so the idea of marrying someone who wasn’t one of them was unacceptable.
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