“This is nae ordinary lady!” Annie said, laughing. “She willnae let anybody else dae whit she can dae hersel’! An’ look how healthy oor wee lassie is!”
Oor wee lassie, Crissy thought. She is no’ even her babby. An’ why dis she talk like me an’ no’ like Milady?
She watched the two women as they talked, observing how close they were, and how familiar they were with each other. Presently Annie looked up and met her gaze.
“I knaw whit ye’re thinkin’,” she said, smiling mischievously. “Ye are wonderin’ why I, a common person, am so close to Milady Isla.”
“Aye,” Crissy replied. “I wis. Are ye gaunnae tell me?” She frowned.
“Because Annie came to me as a ladies’ maid,” Isla answered, “and was imprisoned with me. She was close to me when Bonnie was born. She is not my maid anymore but my companion and one of the family, like the sister I never had.”
She and Annie exchanged glances, smiling. “An’ we love each other like sisters,” Annie confirmed. “So you see, Crissy, people o’ different kinds can mix, just like you an’ yer laird.”
“It’s no’ the same thing,” Crissy replied.
“But I can tell you another story that is the same thing,” Isla said, looking at both of them. “It is the story of Shona Donaldson and Lachlan McGregor. She found him on the shore of Loch Ness one day, and he was a laird—the Laird of Ness. She was a crofter’s daughter and she found him, almost dead from the cold, outside her family’s cottage. She nursed him back to health and they got married—and that is a true story!” Then her tone became brisk. “But we could discuss this all day, so I am going to suggest that I take Elspeth away, and Annie can sit with you, Crissy.”
Annie nodded. “I am sure we will find somethin’ tae talk aboot!”
The two women grinned at each other and Isla felt warm inside. She knew she had just witnessed the birth of a new friendship.
15
Annie and Crissy
Crissy did not remember falling asleep. She and Annie had been sitting singing old folk songs and Annie had been entertaining her with tales of her maternal grandmother, who apparently had been quite a local character.
She had once suggested that all men should be gelded after siring children, like horses.
Crissy laughed. “But we eat the horses afterwards,” she said, frowning. “Are ye thinkin’ we should eat the men as well?”
“Might no’ be a bad idea,” Annie said thoughtfully, and then she flapped her hand and laughed. “Pfft! Naw! Too tough!”
“Ye could stew them,” Crissy laughed.
“They wid gie ye the boke!” Annie dissolved into giggles and so did Crissy, but her rib was so sore she groaned with pain. Annie stopped laughing at once. “Is there onythin’ I can get ye, hen?” she asked. “Poppy milk? Valerian? Willow bark tea?”
“Naw,” Crissy replied. “I will be fine, Annie. Thanks for stayin’ wi’ me.”
Annie smiled at her. She had a sweet smile, and Crissy thought it a pity there was no sweetheart in her life, for she was an attractive woman and had much to offer a man.
“D’ye no hae a fella o’ yer ain, Annie?” she asked curiously.
Annie looked sad all of a sudden. “Aye, there was a lad,” she replied. “I met him jist afore Isla an’ Magnus got married. I wanted tae bring him tae the weddin’ but he widnae come. I wondered why, but it was a wee while efter that I found oot he was already married.”
Annie smiled sadly and for a moment, her eyes glittered with unshed tears. Crissy thought she was going to weep, but then she dashed them away with the back of her hand. “It wis a long time ago. I was awfy cut up aboot it at the time, but noo I look back I think whit a lucky escape I had. He wis faithless tae his wife an’ he wid hae been faithless tae me an’ a!”
“We both lost the men we loved,” Crissy murmured, yawning, “but Annie, dinnae give up. There are mony good yins oot there.”
Annie smiled. “Aye hen, I’m sure ye’re right.” She went to pour out some ale for herself, but when she came back, Crissy was already asleep.
Crissy felt herself fall into her dream. She was walking along a smooth sandy road; the sun was out, but it was noon and she had cast no shadow on the ground. Her feet were bare but there were no stones to hurt them, and the dust under her feet was warm. In the distance she could see the sea and the manes of the white horses as they galloped into the shore.
She knew she was dreaming, because there were never days like this in the inhospitable northeast Highlands. Dry weather was usually sullen and gray, with bruise–colored clouds in the sky, but this day was out of time and otherworldly, touched by magic. She smiled as she walked; half expecting to see fairies jumping out of the trees and a winged horse to come and bear her away. She laughed out loud; happiness was welling like a great bubble inside her and she had no idea why.
Then she saw the reason. A man was walking towards her, a man with dark red hair wearing the warm red and pale green Crawford tartan, a dark red jacket and strong black leather boots. Incongruously, there was a great bunch of red roses in his hand. She knew she should have recognized him, but he had no proper face, or at least he had one, but she could not see it for some reason, as is often the case in dreams.
She stopped walking as they came close to each other and he knelt down on the sandy ground a few feet away from her, then suddenly she could make sense of his face. It was a very handsome one, with a strong jawline, square chin, and straight dark brows. His mouth was full and sensual, but unlike the rest of his appearance, his light brown eyes were soft, even loving.
“Crissy,” he said in a deep thrilling voice that seemed to caress her as he spoke. “I am Laird Lewis.” Then he took her left hand and kissed it. “You are the loveliest maid I have seen in my life, and I have come to marry you.” He gave her the roses and stood up. The gentle brown eyes smiled into hers and she realized that she loved him and could not live without him.
“I love you too, M’laird,” she whispered, smiling at him. He bent down to kiss her, and his lips were soft and warm as they caressed hers. She took a deep breath of the heady scent of the flowers and it was only then that she realized that she was wearing a long pink silk dress with white shoes—a wedding dress.
Suddenly there was a beautiful white horse with a magnificent wavy white mane standing behind Lewis. She had not seen it arrive, but she knew that it was real, because a moment later Lewis had hoisted her onto it and climbed on behind her.
She knew the church they were going to, and when the horse stopped in front of the little gray steepled building with the prominent statue of the Blessed Virgin in front of it, Lewis helped her off and she turned to smile her thanks.
He was gone, and when she turned the other way, so had the horse, and as she looked, the church slowly dissolved into a mist and disappeared.
She called out to him in a panic, “Lewis! Lewis! Please tell me where ye are!” But all she could hear were the dying echoes of her own voice. She looked up at the sky and saw that yellowish-gray clouds were beginning to obscure the sun, and it was suddenly icy cold. Crissy knew what those clouds meant, and as she watched, the first snowflakes began to fall on her worn brown servant’s dress.
And then in the distance she saw a cart coming towards her, driven by a man and a woman. At once, a feeling of sheer terror took hold of her, and she began to run.
16
Awakening
Someone was screaming, and Crissy felt herself being shaken. It took a moment of total confusion before she realized that the screams were coming from her own throat. Annie’s face swam above her, calling out her name.
“Crissy! Crissy!” she cried, and Crissy felt her face being patted. Her eyes were open, and she could see Annie, but she could not move or answer, and presently her eyes closed again and she knew no more.
Annie’s heart was thumping as she looked at Crissy’s face. She was flushed, her skin was running with sweat, and she was twitching and mumbling i
ncoherently. She had been quite well the last time Annie had looked at her, but at sometime during the night Annie had dozed off and now Crissy looked very sick indeed.
“Back in a minute, Crissy,” she said as she rushed out of the door. She took the stairs two at a time and knocked frantically on Fiona’s door. The wise woman came out in her nightgown, bleary-eyed and tousle-haired with sleep, and blinked at Annie, but one look at her face told her that something was badly wrong.
“She has a fever, Fiona,” Annie said frantically. “She is burnin’ up!”
Fiona nodded and frowned, then followed Annie downstairs.
She made a quick inspection of her patient, looking grim, and instructed Annie to strip her.
“Soak some towels wi’ cauld water an’ pit them a’ ower her, hen,” she instructed. Annie went to do as she had been bidden while Fiona skillfully administered willow bark tea with a spoon—a delicate operation that required enormous patience if most of it was not to be spilled all over the patient.
In a few moments Crissy was covered from head to foot in damp white linen. She was still tossing, turning, and moaning in her sleep, but the flush on her cheeks had gone down. Annie felt her forehead and breathed a sigh of relief.
“She’s a wee bit cooler,” she said thankfully. “I should never have dozed aff like that, Fiona.”
Fiona frowned at her. “For why no’ hen? Ye were tired, an’ ye had a long day. Get tae bed noo. I will care for her.”
Annie yawned. “Thank ye, Fiona,” she said, sighing. “I will pray for her.”
“Hmph!” Fiona grunted. “You dae that hen. I have always helped my ain self. You pray for the baith o’us.”
Annie went out, puzzled by the older woman’s attitude. She met Isla coming down the stairs, looking worried.
“I heard you coming down but I had to feed Bonnie.” Her voice was anxious. “How is Crissy?”
“She has a fever,” Annie replied. “But Fiona is wi’ her, Isla. She will be fine.”
“I hope so,” Isla breathed.
The two women hugged each other, and then Annie went to her bedroom. In spite of her worry about Crissy, she could not stay awake, and was asleep as soon as she lay down.
Isla was shocked when she saw Crissy. “What has caused this?” she asked.
Fiona shrugged. “Sometimes we jist never knaw, Milady,” she sighed. “It could be an infection somewhere but I cannae find onythin’. I think that the body has been shocked an’ weakened by a’ the injuries, but I think it looks worse than it is. I have nae doot she will be better the morrow.”
“Do you think so?” Isla’s voice was anxious.
“Aye, Milady,” Fiona replied. “I hae seen it afore.”
As Fiona took off the bandages one by one to soak them again, Isla gasped in shock. The ugly bruises that had been inflicted on Crissy’s body were now turning purple, blue, and yellow, and there was a huge graze on her leg that ran from her knee to her hip. Her stomach was one massive livid bruise that made Isla furious when she saw it.
“I wish I could get my hands on these monsters,” she growled. “I would happily strangle them.”
Fiona sighed and nodded but said nothing. She had lost her faith in human beings and God a long time ago.
Isla sat by Crissy’s side till dawn came up, then she went to feed Bonnie again. When she went into the dining room afterwards she found Magnus. He stood up when he saw her.
“I heard,” he said gently as he wrapped his arms around her. “How is she?”
“Fiona said she will be fine, but she has such a high fever,” Isla sighed. “I hope she is right.”
“Come and eat,” Magnus drew her down to the table. “After breakfast I will write a letter to Lewis Crawford and tell them that Crissy is here. Hopefully Lewis will come to get her.”
“Do you think we should tell him she is hurt?” Isla’s voice was anxious. “I do not know how good Fiona’s diagnosis is. What if it is a serious condition and she dies?”
“Then I think we should,” Magnus replied.
After breakfast he sat down and drafted the letter.
* * *
“Mr Crawford,
We received your letter about Crissy Munro and we are happy to tell you that she is here at our castle. Unfortunately, she met with an accident along the way, and she is quite unwell. However, she is receiving the best care we can give her, but we urge you to come as quickly as possible.
Kind regards,
Laird Magnus Galbraith.”
The letter reached Lewis that afternoon. As he slit it open he was seized by a strong feeling of foreboding, and as he read, the feeling was confirmed. Crissy—his Crissy was in danger. Magnus had been quite general in his choice of words.
Unwell, he thought anxiously. What on Earth does that mean?
However, he was not stopping to mull it over. All he could think about was that Crissy had been found. His Crissy was safe. He went to the stables and leapt onto Angus, then shot out of the gates of the castle as fast as his horse could gallop. He had to get to Crissy.
Afterwards, he could barely remember a thing about the ride. He was conscious only of the need to get there. The two castles were not far apart, standing at opposite ends of the Village of Auchterlinn, but there had been a days of intermittent rain, and Lewis had to slow Angus to a walk. It took them two hours to get to Galbraith Castle, and by that time Lewis was in a frenzy of anxiety.
Perhaps she had caught pneumonia traveling in the rain, or been attacked by the wolves who dwelt in the forest. She might have fallen over and hurt herself or been waylaid by bandits. His imagination was painting all sorts of different pictures, each one more horrifying than the last.
As soon as he reached the road to the castle he urged Angus into a gallop and they skidded to a stop inside the courtyard. He leapt off the horse, threw the reins at the stable lad, and sprinted into the castle. The first person he encountered was the butler, who looked him up and down in a condescending manner before addressing him.
“Sir,” he bowed politely, “can I help you?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I would like to see Crissy Munro, please. I believe she is here.”
The butler frowned. “I will summon Milady, sir. Please wait.”
“Please hurry,” Lewis urged. “Tell her Lewis Crawford would like to speak to her.”
The butler acknowledged him with a nod and strode away. Lewis began to pace up and down, as he always did when agitated.
When the butler delivered the message Isla immediately handed Elspeth to her Nanny and rushed downstairs to see Lewis still pointlessly striding up and down. She called out to him and he ran to her, his face a mask of anxiety.
Isla hugged him tightly for a moment. “I will take you to her, Lewis,” she said gently.
“Thank you,” he breathed. “How is she?”
“She had a fever, but her temperature has come down a little,” Isla replied. “She is still unconscious, though, but the healer says that she looks worse than she is.”
As soon as they went in Fiona smiled. “Her temperature is fine, noo, Milady,” she said. She gave Lewis a quizzical look and then busied herself with the soiled clothes which she had just taken from Crissy’s body. She had hastily drawn a sheet over her when she saw Lewis but not before he had a glimpse of her round, pink-tipped breasts, tapered waist, and gently flaring hips.
I have felt them but never seen them, he thought in disbelief. He was horrified to see the bruises all over her, especially on her stomach. “What happened to her?” he asked angrily. “Who did this?” He looked up at Isla. “She looks as if she has been in a prize fight!”
“She was ambushed and left for dead at the side of the road,” Isla said grimly. “We came and found her and brought her back here. She was fine yesterday, but Fiona says this is delayed shock.”
Now he bent over her and kissed her soft lips. “Is she better now though? When will she wake up?” His voice was pathetically anxious, but Isla c
ould still see the fury raging inside him.
“We cannae tell ye that, M’laird,” Fiona said with a sigh. “We will hae tae let nature tak its course.”
Lewis’s face looked as if it was cast in granite. “When I get hold of them there will be a reckoning,” he said, his voice gritty and threatening. “If it takes me forever I will hunt them down and kill them.”
Isla took one of his hands and rubbed it, then draped a blanket over his shoulders. “You are freezing,” she said gently, “and you must eat.”
“I cannot eat,” he replied, his eyes still on Crissy’s pale face.
“I thought you might say that,” Isla said dryly. “So I had the kitchen prepare something for you in advance. It will be ready soon.”
He did not take his face from Crissy’s for a moment. “Thank you, Isla. I will eat what I can.”
A housemaid brought in a tray for him. It was laden with chicken stew, bannocks, fresh raspberries and cream, and warm ale. Despite his worry, Lewis was famished and ate everything. He felt much better afterwards.
Isla had gone to be with Bonnie again, and Lewis, utterly exhausted, laid his head on Crissy’s bed and went to sleep.
17
Reunited
Crissy was dreaming again, or thought she was. She heard Lewis’s voice in the distance, coming closer then fading away again. There was a mist, and she knew that she would find him if she went into it, but she was afraid. She had always been as scared of fog as she was of darkness, but she would do anything to find Lewis.
Slowly she walked forward and the mist closed around her till she could see nothing but a white wall of it around her. Lewis was calling her name, and his voice was tantalizingly close, but she could not see him. She stretched out her arms, groping in every direction, till she came in contact with something warm and solid, then Lewis materialized out of the mist, laughing softly and saying her name. She ran her hands backward through his hair, then looked at the dear face that she had missed for so long.
Seduced by the Noble Highlander Page 9