The Inheritance

by Irina Shapiro

  Sophia had always fought for what she wanted, and they eventually accepted her going away to college and even living by herself, although that took some doing, but this wasn’t something that they would come around to.

  “Have you told them? What are you going to do? Did you give Jesse an answer?”

  “Jesse knows what this means and he didn’t press me to give him an answer right away. He knows that I would say “yes” in a heartbeat if my parents weren’t so against our union. How do I choose between the people who’ve raised me and loved me all my life, and the one guy whom I feel I can’t live without?”

  “Would Jesse ever convert do you think?” I didn’t think he would, but I had to ask.

  “I would never ask that of him. He’s not a very religious person, and only goes to Temple on Yom Kippur, but it’s a part of who he is. I wouldn’t want him to give that up; he would eventually come to resent me if he did. I wouldn’t want to convert either.”

  “I agree with you. I wouldn’t want that either. What about children? How would you raise them?” I knew this probably wasn’t the right time to ask this, but she had to consider all the angles before making her decision.

  “We talked about that. I wouldn’t want to raise my kids in the Orthodox Church, so we’d just celebrate both holidays and they would get double the presents.”

  “It seems that you’ve made up your mind,” I knew her well enough to know which way she was leaning. Sophia loved her family, but she’d always felt stifled by the rules imposed on her by the community and the Church. She was a free spirit, and wanted to live her life with someone who cherished that rather than tried to suppress it. Marrying a man from the Greek community would mean accepting a certain type of lifestyle for herself and her future children, and I couldn’t see her consenting to that, even for her parents.

  “Maybe they’ll come around eventually,” I tried to comfort her despite my doubts.

  “I don’t think so. If it was just them, maybe they would in time, but there’ll be too many other people adding fuel to the fire and egging them on to do the right thing. They’ll cut me off for good and I will have to live with that.”

  She sounded resigned and it broke my heart. Why did it have to be so difficult? Sophia had plenty of boyfriends in the past, but not one of them made her as happy as Jesse. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look that they genuinely loved each other and brought out each other’s best qualities. No relationship can be perfect. This was their one impediment, but it was a huge one. I was sure that Jesse’s parents weren’t thrilled either, but they welcomed Sophia for their son’s sake, and would do their best to deal with the situation despite their own reservations. They weren’t about to lose their only son and future grandchildren.

  “Will you be my maid of honor?” Sophia sounded a little more cheerful, and I was glad to have been able to help her make up her mind.

  “I would be honored, and if you have any desire to marry at a dilapidated castle in Scotland, just say the word; I know the owner.”

  “Thank you. We’ll definitely think about it, but I haven’t even given him an answer yet, much less considered having a wedding. I’ll keep you posted. Now tell me about you. Why have you left the inn? Could a sexy Highlander be involved?”

  I told her about the developments with Danny, and she was her bubbly self by the time I finished my story.

  “You deserve it, Katie. Enjoy it. Don’t think about the future or what it might lead to. Just allow yourself to be happy. So, how was your day in Edinburgh? Did you find anything at the archives?”

  “Actually, we did. We found a mention of the McBride War Chieftain named Rory Alexander McBride, who was among the missing after the battle of Culloden. He didn’t turn up among the dead, and he wasn’t taken prisoner, although of course, he might not have been identified properly. All we know is that the initials fit, and he was probably the author of the letters to Isobel.” I knew how flimsy my evidence was, but I wanted it to be him.

  “Sounds about right. As the War Chieftain, he was probably close to the Laird and frequently around his wife. It sounds like she didn’t marry for love, so it’s entirely possible that she fell in love with the handsome Commando. Sounds very romantic. I wonder what happened to them.”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll do my best to find out.” With that we said goodbye and Sophia promised to call me after she spoke to her parents.

  Chapter 47

  By the time I finished my conversation with Sophia, Danny had come out of the shower and was waiting for me on the patio. He’d opened up a bottle of wine and had the next letter out for us to read. We got comfortable on the wicker couch and I carefully unfolded the yellowed square. The date was smudged, but it had to have been after Rory and Isobel saw each other in December.

  Dearest Isobel,

  Seeing ye was the greatest gift I could have asked for, and I carry ye with me in my heart every day. Dougal’s spirits are low, and he keeps moaning about missing his wife. I know how he feels.

  We rejoined the army at Edinburgh where they’d retreated after being defeated in England. No British or Lowland Jacobites joined the rebellion, and some of the Lowlanders actually support government troops. The men are tired, disillusioned and frequently hungry, as there aren’t enough funds to supply the army.

  His Majesty is awaiting help from the French afore attempting to march on England again.

  Our Laird is close to the king and bids us follow him to England. I am duty bound to follow, but my heart is with ye at Kilmaron.

  All my love,

  R.A.M.

  I put the letter aside. I could sense some of Rory’s discontent and doubts, but there was nothing about him deserting or making plans to run away with Isobel. The book had said that he disappeared after the battle of Culloden, so maybe we’d still find something. There was only one more letter left in the stack, and I hoped it would provide some clues. I would have liked to read it immediately, but Danny was pulling the paper out of my hand and unbuttoning my blouse. It would have to wait — I had more important things to do.

  February 1746

  Chapter 48

  Isobel looked out of the window for the umpteenth time that morning hoping to see riders approaching the castle. They’d had no word in months. She had a letter from Rory after he rejoined the king in December, but nothing since. She felt isolated and scared. What was happening? Why the silence? She’d heard from John a few times, but he never told her anything of importance, just instructions pertaining to various domestic matters.

  There’d been a message from her mother around Christmas. She had sent Isobel a beautiful shawl she’d embroidered for her, and a letter telling her that her father and brother were with His Majesty in Edinburgh, and Mary had been delivered of a healthy baby girl. The baby was called Elizabeth and thankfully didn’t resemble her father.

  There’d also been a note from Margaret telling her that David had gone off to join the king with their father, and she hadn’t had any word from him since. Margaret was sick with worry, and considering running away to Edinburgh to join the Highland Army. Isobel smiled at her sister’s impetuous nature and put the letter away. She would have to go tell Morag the news of Mary. The girl had been distraught when Mary didn’t come back to the castle and always asked for news of her. She was only thirteen and had become quite attached to the older girl.

  Isobel turned from the window and left the room. The world was coming back to life after a cold and wet winter, and she longed to be outside. The smell of new grass and damp earth greeted her as she stepped out of the tower, and her feet turned toward the walled garden. She closed the gate behind her, ran past the blossoming flower beds, and made her way to the back wall where she pulled aside the vine and disappeared through the little door.

  Isobel took a deep breath of sea air and walked briskly along the cliff. The tranquil sea lay below sparkling in the April sunshine, and she could just make out the white canvas of a faraway sail, and
wondered what it would be like to be standing on a deck of a ship being carried away from the familiar shores of Scotland. She couldn’t see what colors the ship was flying, but it didn’t look like a British man-of-war. Maybe a French ship, she thought, which brought help to the struggling Highland Army.

  She continued to walk, her cloak billowing around her and her hair whipping into her face. It felt good to be away from the depressing atmosphere of the castle. All the women were anxious and short-tempered fearing for the lives of their men, and Anna was frantic with worry for Dougal.

  She enjoyed being alone, although she was sure that she wasn’t alone any longer. Her courses hadn’t come since December, and her breasts felt tender to the touch. She’d been sick a few times in the morning and the smell of meat made her nauseous. She was with child, but her joy was overshadowed by the fact that she couldn’t share this news with Rory. He would be so pleased, but of course, there was John to consider. No matter the outcome of the rebellion, Isobel had no intention of remaining married to John. Whether Rory returned to her or not, and she prayed every day that he would, she would leave John and return to her parents as soon as he was back. He would certainly know that the bairn wasn’t his, and so would anyone who knew how to count to nine. After what he’d done to Mary, she felt no desire to try to justify herself. She only wanted to protect Rory and their child from his vengeance.

  July 2010

  Chapter 49

  I quietly got out of bed and made my way downstairs, leaving Danny sound asleep. I made a cup of tea and stepped outside into the small garden behind the house. The sky was an endless stretch of cobalt blue, the morning dew already beginning to evaporate in anticipation of another warm day. I wiped the moisture from a wicker chair, and sat down to drink my tea.

  I hadn’t told my parents that I’d moved to Danny’s house, mostly because I didn’t want to answer any questions I didn’t have answers to. I knew that my mother would worry about me getting hurt after the fiasco with Xavier, and I didn’t want to cause her anxiety. Danny hadn’t said anything about the future, and I certainly didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. We’d known each other for only a few weeks, so to expect anything permanent would be unrealistic.

  At twenty-five, I was entitled to a sex romp, and didn’t have to feel guilty or explain myself to anyone, but it felt like more than that. I’d be leaving Scotland in a few weeks, and the thought of never seeing Danny again made me feel hollow and bereft. I didn’t dare use the word love, but my feelings for him were beginning to take over. I’d never felt this way with any of my boyfriends.

  With Xavier, I always felt like I had to be more sophisticated, more cosmopolitan than I really was. I rarely felt comfortable enough to be myself, and able to say what I was thinking without censoring it first to make sure it came out just right. I always felt out of place with Xavier’s artsy friends, and he made no effort to make me feel more at ease or accepted in his circle.

  With Danny, I felt like I could truly be myself. He constantly told me I was beautiful and smart, laughed at my jokes, and found my romanticism endearing. He didn’t laugh at my desire to find out what happened to Isobel and willingly went along, spending hours of his time in dusty libraries looking for clues to her fate. Danny was warm and solid, the kind of man I could see myself spending a lifetime with. He would make a great daddy too. We’d gone to dinner with some of his college friends and they were as easygoing and fun as him. I felt completely at ease despite the fact that I was normally shy with strangers.

  I sighed and went back inside. I would console myself with reading the final letter. I promised Danny I would wait for him, but I needed someone else’s love life to distract me from my own uncertain future.

  April 1746

  Chapter 50

  Rory stared into the crackling flames as Dougal handed him a cup of wine. They were surrounded by campfires and thousands of men, but it was nerve-rackingly quiet. Most men sat by their fires reminiscing about their families or talking with their comrades in low voices. The usual pre-battle bravado wasn’t on display, and there was no laughter or snatches of bawdy songs heard on the wind.

  They had been marching back to Edinburgh when they’d been cut off by the Hessian troops. With Hessians in front of them, and the British behind them, they had no choice but to stand and fight. His Majesty had made a pretty speech offering to lead the charge in the morning, but the men weren’t fooled. They were a ragged bunch with worn-out boots, tattered clothing, and lack of supplies. Most men hadn’t had a proper meal in days, and they gnawed on stale biscuits, dreaming of rich meaty stews and freshly baked loaves of fragrant bread. Many of them knew that this might be their last meal.

  The British had cannons, vast numbers of men, experienced generals and a superior position. The Highlanders had broadswords, tarches, and their lairds, who had pledged their loyalty to the young, spoiled prince. They would be charging barefoot across wet, swampy terrain, completely exposed to British cannon fire. Most men were so tired and weak with hunger they hardly had the energy to walk, much less swing a heavy sword. No Highlander ran away from a fight, but they knew the odds. Even if by some miracle from God they managed to win tomorrow, their losses would be great, and the Highland Army would be decimated. They didn’t believe the Stuart cause could survive either way, with no fresh troops or supplies to replenish the Highland Army.

  Someone started singing a mournful song, and a few voices joined in. Rory threw down the rock-hard piece of bread he was trying to chew; he was so used to being hungry that it didn’t matter anymore. He took a quill, ink and a piece of paper out of his pack, and began to compose his farewell letter to Isobel. He gave the finished letter to Dougal, who put the folded square in his sporran, and wrapped himself in his plaid for warmth, trying to sleep.

  Chapter 51

  April 15th, 1746

  My dearest Isobel,

  I pray this letter reaches ye, although I dinna believe it will.

  The past few months have been a series of victories and defeats, but then the Duke of Cumberland took over command of the British Army from General Hawley after he lost the battle of Falkirk. The Duke had decided to wait out the winter, and has spent much time training his troops in Aberdeen. The government army has been joined by Hessian, Lowland and Irish troops, and we are sorely outnumbered and outgunned. The Hessian troops have been dispatched to block our retreat, and we are currently camped out by Drummossie Moor, a few miles outside of Nairn. The men are hungry, cold, and most of all, scared.

  We are to face the English tomorrow on Culloden Moor, and our prospects are dismal. The battleground is a boggy terrain making the charge difficult, and leaving us open to British artillery. His Majesty wants to command the troops, but at this stage, the men aren’t inspired by his bravado.

  Tomorrow’s battle will decide the outcome of the rebellion, as well as the future of Scotland.

  Isobel, if I am killed tomorrow, please do nae grieve me. Ken that I died with yer name on my lips, and that yer love has been the only thing in my life that was truly worth anything. Take care of yerself and remember me fondly.

  Forever yers,

  R.A.M.

  I put down the letter wiping a tear off my cheek. I had read enough about Culloden in the past few weeks to know how it turned out. Danny was probably right. Chances are that Rory was either killed, or taken prisoner along with thousands of other men. Somehow his last letter had reached Isobel, but the paper was stained and worn, and I wondered how long it had taken for her to receive it. There probably wasn’t a happy reunion after all. Maybe Rory’s death prompted her to kill herself. That would be the logical conclusion. I was still sitting on the couch staring at the letter when Danny came downstairs.

  “You read it,” he said accusingly. “So what did it say? What happened to our Rory?” He wasn’t mocking me, but seemed genuinely curious.

  “He was basically telling her that they had no chance at Culloden and to forget him. He was saying good
bye.” I sniffed, and Danny sat next to me and enfolded me in his arms.

  Chapter 52

  I was in the kitchen making a salad to go with the salmon I was preparing when I heard Danny’s key in the lock. He walked into the kitchen and gave me a thorough kiss, then pulled back with a huge grin on his face.

  “Someone’s had a good day,” I teased, as he loosened his tie and threw his suit jacket over the nearest chair.

  “Your day is about to get better too. I found something today. Come into the living room and I’ll show you.”

  I took the salmon out of the oven before following Danny so it wouldn’t overcook, took off my apron and left the kitchen. Danny was unrolling something on the coffee table, pinning it at the ends with two large candles to keep it in place. He looked very pleased with himself.

  “I was putting together a file for you this afternoon with all the paperwork on the distillery, but I was missing last year’s annual report. Angus left me a box of documents along with the Will, so I rolled up my sleeves and went rummaging. I didn’t find what I needed, but I found something else. Take a look.”

  The scroll on the table was obviously a family tree. It had a picture of the McBride crest pasted at the top, and an impressive list of names and dates. I saw my own name at the very bottom. It felt kind of strange to be the last one with nothing next to my name. The ink was much brighter than the rest of the names, and must have been added recently. Above my name was the name of my mother, Ellen, and next to her, the name of my father. My mother’s name was connected to the names of Angus and Claire, with James’s name off to the side as an afterthought.