Love Joins the Clans

by Barbara Cartland

  When he had talked to her and when he had pledged himself to her service, the expression in his eyes had not been one of a man who just desired a pretty woman.

  It was something far deeper, far more sincere and far more fundamental.

  ‘I love him!’ she whispered to the moonlight and prayed that he was saying the same thing about her.

  The door opened behind her and Jeanne came into the room.

  “Why did you not ring for me, my Lady? I wouldna have known you had come to your bed if I’d not seen that the lights in the Chieftain’s Room had been blown out.”

  “I am tired, Jeanne,” Clova replied, “but I was thinking how beautiful the moonlight is.”

  “Beautiful to us, my Lady, but strange things happen when the moon be high that makes some people a-feared!”

  Clova did not reply.

  She recognised that Jeanne was telling her that moonlight enabled the members of Euan’s gang to find the sheep when they were resting or giving birth and track down cattle that could not be seen in the dark.

  She tried to listen, but her thoughts were elsewhere as Jeanne came towards her to undo her gown.

  She had just unfastened the first button when there was a knock on the door.

  Clova turned her head in surprise as Jeanne went to answer it and she had a conversation with a man in the passage that Clova could not hear.

  Then she came back to say,

  “Somebody has called and is asking to see you, my Lady. Shall I say you’re too tired?”

  “Who is it?” Clova enquired.

  “It’s a man who has brought his mother with him in a carriage. He says she’s awful ill and she must speak with you.”

  Clova hesitated and then remembered that she was the Chieftain and had told the Clansmen to come to her whenever they needed help.

  “I must go down, Jeanne.”

  Jeanne picked up a pretty evening shawl that Clova had bought in Paris thinking that she would need it in the winter and put it around her shoulders.

  ‘If you’re goin’ to the door, my Lady,” she said, “the wind is real chilly at this time of the night.”

  “I hope I shall not be long,” Clova replied.

  She walked out into the passage and found that, instead of a senior servant, who was called Dougall, there was only a young man, one of the footmen, who Clova had thought was rather slow-witted, waiting for her.

  “Who has called to see me, Andrew?” she asked.

  “Ah dinna – ken, ma’am,” he stammered.

  Clova walked quickly along the passage and down the stairs into the hall.

  The lights had been extinguished except for just one lantern that made the hall seem filled with shadows.

  The door, however, was ajar and she could see a young man with untidy hair and wearing a ragged kilt standing outside, a carriage behind him.

  “You wanted to see me?” Clova enquired.

  He made a somewhat awkward bow and said,

  “’Tis me mother, ma’am. She be awful bad, but she would have a word with you afore she dies.”

  “If she is as ill as that,” Clova pointed out, “she should not be travelling at this time of night and instead seeing a doctor.”

  She walked down the steps and the man followed her to open the carriage door as she reached it.

  Then, as she peered into the darkness, she felt him give her a tremendous push from behind and she sprawled forward into the carriage.

  The door was slammed shut and instantly the horses started off.

  For a moment Clova could not believe that it was actually happening.

  Then, as she tried to raise herself from the floor, a plaid came over her head, enveloping her in darkness.

  A man’s arms dragged her onto the seat of the carriage.

  As she tried to struggle, a rope was fastened around her body holding her arms pinioned to her sides so that she was unable to raise the plaid from her face.

  Then she was pushed into a corner of the back seat and to her horror she suspected who the man sitting next to her was.

  As her heart beat frantically, she realised that she had been kidnapped from her own Castle and there was no point in asking who had done it.

  Euan was abducting her and, even if it was not he who was sitting next to her, she was sure that this was his plot and carried out on his instructions.

  The horses were being driven at a wild speed that made the carriage swing from side to side and bump uncomfortably over any unevenness in the road.

  Clova realised they were going North and she knew that Mallic, Euan’s Castle, was about three miles from Strathblane.

  She had heard the General say conversationally at luncheon that the relation who had the shortest distance to travel to The Castle was Euan.

  Because the plaid that covered her face was of thick wool, Clova knew that it was no use her screaming or trying to speak.

  She was being thrown about in the back of the carriage since with her arms pinioned she could not steady herself and found herself every so often bumping against the shoulder of the man who sat next to her.

  It was horrifying and humiliating that she should be treated in such a manner and she was also desperately afraid of what Euan was planning.

  If he was hiding her away, she realised that there was nothing she would be able to do about it and no one to save her.

  Because she was growing more and more frightened, she found herself praying not only to God for help but also to Tarquil.

  ‘Save me! Save – me!’ she prayed. ‘You – anticipated that he – might do this. How can I make you realise how much I – want you?’

  She knew then that she loved Tarquil even more that she thought she did when she was gazing out of the window at the moonlight.

  She loved him because he was strong and yet gentle and he cared for those who were dependent upon him. He was in every way the sort of man she had always wanted to meet.

  Because of the strange life she had lived with her mother, Clova had become a very good judge of men and she had known, as soon as each one approached Lottie, exactly what he was like.

  She knew what they would say and how they would treat her mother and she was always proved right with everything happening exactly as she expected.

  She was sure now that Tarquil was good in every way, not just a man who was looking out for a bit of fun like those who, whether they were French, English, South African or any other nationality, would only care for her mother so long as she amused them.

  When the novelty and the excitement were over, they would disappear and presumably forget her.

  When she was in Paris, Clova had sworn that it would never happen to her.

  She would never marry anybody unless he loved her in a very different way so that his love would grow rather than fade in the years that they were together.

  Often she thought that she was asking the impossible and that all men were superficial and did not really care, as long as they found amusement, whom they hurt or who suffered when they were no longer interested.

  But Tarquil was different.

  He had asked her to trust him, and in her heart she did trust him and only he could save her now.

  They must have driven a little twenty minutes, although it seemed very much longer and Clova was feeling suffocated by the thickness of the plaid, when the horses came to a standstill.

  Now her heart was beating more frantically than ever and she knew the fear inside her had been growing until all she wanted to do was to scream and go on screaming until somebody came to her rescue.

  She heard the door of the carriage being opened and then the man who had been sitting beside her lifted her up and passed her to another man outside.

  She was carried over some rough gravel, which crunched beneath his feet and then up some steps.

  Then she heard a voice that was undoubtedly Euan’s saying in an authoritative tone,

  “Carry her up to the tower!”

  Now sh
e was being taken up some stone stairs, along a corridor and then there were more stairs, small ones, and she was sure that it was a narrow staircase because her captor carried her more upright in case her head or her knees should bang against the walls on either side.

  There were, however, far fewer stairs than she had expected before she was set down and the rope which had pinioned her arms to her sides was undone.

  It had been tied so tight that until her circulation was restored it was difficult to move her hands.

  Then the plaid was raised from her face and for a second she could see nothing although she was aware that the room, if that was what she was in, was lighter than the darkness she had endured under the thickness of the plaid.

  She heard a door being closed and, as she put up her hand to sweep back her hair from her forehead, she saw Cousin Euan standing and watching her with his back to an empty fireplace.

  Now she realised that she was in a small round room with an oak bedstead which she was sitting on and no other furniture except for a wooden chair and a table against one wall that held a basin and a ewer.

  With a superhuman effort Clova found her voice.

  “How dare you – bring me here in this – disgraceful fashion!”

  She meant to sound angry and peremptory, but in fact, being very frightened she found it difficult to breathe properly and she merely sounded weak and very helpless.

  “I brought you here,” Euan replied, “because I have no intention of being kept waiting while you play about with our traditional enemies and think that you can be a more effective Chieftain than I would be.”

  Clova wanted to stand up and defy him, but she was so stiff and her legs felt so weak that she found it impossible.

  But she managed to lift her chin proudly and ask in what she hoped was a scornful voice,

  “So you – intend to – kill me?”

  “I did think of it,” Euan admitted, “but because I need your money and am sure, if some interfering old fool of a Bank Manager, or perhaps Torbot McBlane, persuaded you in Paris to make a will, I have a better idea.”

  “I suppose I must be – curious enough to – ask you – what it is,” Clova stuttered.

  “I have every intention of telling you,” Euan replied. “As I have already said, I intend to marry you, but you are obviously going to make difficulties and, although I could overcome them quite easily, I am in a hurry.”

  “Why?”

  “The answer is easy, my dear cousin,” Euan answered. “I am in debt and, although I have informed my creditors that I will soon have a very rich wife, they prefer proof rather than promises.”

  “In which case they will be – disappointed!” Clova said. “For I have – no intention of – marrying you.”

  “I gave you the opportunity of accepting me, but you did not take it and now you have no choice.’

  “Do you really think that you can – kidnap me in this – appalling way,” Clova asked, “and no one will – enquire what has – happened to me?”

  “Of course they will,” Euan agreed, “and I know that, if I keep you here all night in my dungeons, which are infested with rats, you will certainly feel different in the morning.”

  Despite her resolution not to let him think that she was afraid, Clova felt herself shiver.

  She had always been terrified of rats and once, when she and Lottie had been in such poor lodgings that there were rats in the walls, she lay awake all night in terror in case she should feel them running over her bed.

  As if Euan sensed what she was thinking, he gave a short laugh and said,

  “At least I am sparing you that torture and also the other idea I had.”

  Clova did not speak and after a moment he went on,

  “Are you not anxious to know what that was? I will tell you. I thought if I raped you, you would have a child and there would be no question then of you not marrying the father.”

  Clova gave a cry of horror that seemed to echo around the walls.

  “How can you – think of anything so – degrading so – disgusting and so wicked?” she cried. “One day, you will – suffer for the – crimes you have – committed.”

  Euan laughed and it was a most unpleasant sound.

  “First they will have to catch me and that is something, my smart little cousin from Paris, you will be unable to do. And even if you do discover a great deal more about me than you know already, you must remember that a wife cannot give evidence against her husband in a Court of Law.”

  “I will not – marry you! I would rather – die than do so!” Clova flashed.

  “On the contrary you will marry me and you will help me spend your money in a far more enjoyable way than wasting it on a lot of ragged illiterate Scots, who should have been sent off to Canada with their forebears.”

  Clova gasped at the horror of what he was saying.

  “How can you speak like that?” she asked. “You are a McBlane and every McBlane has always been – proud of his Clan and of his country.”

  “What is there to be proud of?” Euan asked. “Acres of heather that bring in little money, sheep that sell for half the price of those from England and cattle so undersized that they fetch a pittance in the market.”

  His voice seemed to vibrate around the room as he carried on,

  “What I want are the pleasures and delights of London and the joys of Paris, which I am sure I need not explain to you. I also want to be able to travel like a gentleman in comfort and luxury anywhere in the world that pleases me.”

  There was an elated note in his voice now and, as he continued, he bent down towards her, which made her tremble.

  “Only you, pretty Clova,” he sneered, “can provide for me the life I want and therefore, of course, you are very valuable to me. So I will not kill you, nor will I torture you unbearably.”

  “What do you – intend to – do?” Clova asked and her voice was hardly above a whisper.

  “I intend to do nothing more unpleasant than keep you here for the night with me,” Euan replied. “There will be no escape and, when you are found missing in the morning, everybody at Strathblane will learn where you have been.”

  He saw that Clova did not understand and he went on mockingly,

  “No one will really be surprised. They will just think that you are following in the footsteps of your mother who was nothing more than a harlot, who ran after any man who would pay her.”

  “How dare you say such – wicked and untrue things – ” Clova tried to say, but Euan continued as if she had not spoken,

  “They will believe and I shall make quite certain that they do believe that you could not wait until we were married to enjoy my kisses and the uniting of our bodies. Therefore, my charming cousin, you will be only too grateful when I offer you marriage for it is unlikely any other man would be willing to do so after I have dealt with you.”

  It was now that Clova rose to her feet and walked towards him.

  “Can you really – credit that I would marry you in such – circumstances or that anyone would – believe anything – like that about me?”

  “Of course they will believe it. Wake up and be your age, Clova! You are tainted with your mother’s sins and you should face the fact that no decent man would want to marry the daughter of a woman with your mother’s reputation.”

  He gave an evil chuckle as he added,

  “Can you see the faces of that holy and pious Torbot and the rest of them when they learn tomorrow that their young and supposedly innocent Chieftain has been rolling about all night with me in the matrimonial bed without a gold band on her finger?”

  “As they are already aware of your appalling deeds of violence,” Clova flashed, “when I tell them the truth – they will believe me.”

  “Then you don’t know your Clansmen as well as I do,” Euan mocked. “You may claim that you were kept here as a prisoner, but, if I am as bad as they think I am, is it likely that they will believe that you have emerged from a night alo
ne with a man like me unscathed and still the pure little pet whom they accepted as their Chieftain even though she came from Paris?”

  His eyes were on Clova’s face as he said,

  “The Scots never forget, your mother is still spoken of in whispers and doubtless her soul is prayed for in the Kirk.”

  He laughed evilly and went on,

  “You will be put in the same category, a scarlet woman in the eyes of those who are prepared to turn their own children out into the snow if they have broken any of the Commandments and who are more sanctimonious and pious than any other people on earth.”

  Euan threw out his hands as he finished speaking and then resumed,

  “God preserve me from the lot of them! We will leave Scotland, you and I, Clova, and enjoy ourselves among the fleshpots and, when we do return, I will take your place as Chieftain.”

  He paused before he said reflectively,

  “The Castle will be an amusing place to entertain shooting parties in the autumn. Then for the rest of the year, with your money to spend, the world is our oyster.”

  His voice seemed to echo around the small room and Clova clutched her fingers together until the knuckles showed white.

  Then she insisted slowly and stubbornly,

  “Whatever – happens, I will not – marry you,”

  “You would prefer that I take you down now and shut you up in my dungeons?” Euan asked. “I think, when the rats have nibbled your toes and perhaps climbed up your skirts and onto your bare neck, you will scream for me to release you.”

  Despite her resolution not to do so, Clova shivered again and knew that she was now really terrified.

  “You will stay here as I have arranged,” he said sharply. “There is no escape from this room until I release you in the morning. Then, to save your face and, of course mine, you will swear in front of my Factor, who will call on me at breakfast time and my senior servant, that we are man and wife.”

  He chuckled.

  “That is ‘Marriage by Consent’ and, although it will undoubtedly shock the Elders that you did not wait to enjoy the lusts of the flesh until we were married in a Kirk, we will have a Ceremony performed by a Minister within a few days.”

  “No – No – ” Clova murmured.