“I would have killed you yesterday,” Philip said, shaking his head, as though he could not believe how events had so rapidly taken a turn for the better.
“And I would have killed ye, too,” Feargan replied, offering his brother another dram. “But if I had done so I would have regretted it and I would never have found out the truth as to the reason for the crest on yer handkerchief.”
“And I would never have found Catherine’s affections,” Philip replied. “Nor discovered the brother I never knew I had. It is strange, I somehow feel complete, having spent a lifetime feeling empty and uncertain of who I was. It is a most peculiar feeling.”
“Ye have been a fool, brother, but then so have I,” Feargan replied. “A fool for love is a fool I can understand and I hope that ye will nae be a stranger to this house.”
The two now toasted their good fortunes once more and then bid one another a good night. In his chambers Feargan breathed a deep sigh of relief, looking out across the moonlit courtyard towards the broken gates. His men were standing guard and he smiled at the thought that it was his own brother who had broken them in.
“A fool for love,” he said to himself, shaking his head. “But all’s well that ends well.”
29
Feargan was already at his breakfast when Amelia appeared in the dining room the next morning. She was dressed in a simple gown of white, with a sash about her waist and she smiled at him and seated herself opposite.
“A few moments alone before the others descend,” she said, helping herself to bread and jam.
“Aye, lass, I have been wondering what ye made of Philip and Catherine’s engagement. ‘Tis come about very soon, has it nae?” Feargan said, ladling out more porridge into his bowl.
“Catherine is a headstrong girl and when she makes up her mind to do something, she does it. There is no persuading her otherwise, besides, it seems that quite a remarkable change has come over Philip, don’t you think?” she replied.
“Aye, ‘tis remarkable, lass. He is nothin’ like he was before. It’s as though findin’ his mother has changed his whole outlook on life,” Feargan said.
“I have known him these many years past but it was only yesterday that I saw him smile properly. He seemed happy, a happiness I have never seen,” she said, just as the door to the dining room opened and Philip and Catherine stumbled in, laughing to one another.
“Oh, we thought we had beaten the lark,” Philip said, blushing a little, as Catherine hung upon his arm.
“And I thought you were still in bed. Where have you been, Catherine?” Amelia said, looking in puzzlement at her sister who blushed.
“We rose early to take another swim. There is nothing quite like a bracing swim to wake one up, don’t you think?” Philip said, settling himself at the table.
Feargan nodded his head and glanced at Amelia who simply rolled her eyes. It seemed clear that Philip and Catherine were already in the throes of romance and despite the fact that it had all happened rather quickly, she could not help but feel happy for her sister that finally she had found the love she deserved.
“But tell us, Amelia, when do you and Feargan plan to marry? We were speculating on the matter just now, weren’t we Philip?” Catherine said, as she and Philip helped themselves to breakfast.
“We were. Surely you will want to act quickly and ensure things are done properly,” Philip said.
Amelia blushed and looked at Feargan who smiled and nodded his head. Neither had given the matter much thought, given the excitement of the past days, but with things now settled their thoughts could turn to the wedding and the necessary preparations.
“Well, as soon as possible,” Feargan replied. “Daenae ye think, Amelia? Why wait?”
“Indeed, I have no desire for a large society wedding and this far north I can hardly see my Parisian acquaintances travelling here to witness it. They would not receive an invitation for several weeks, then there are the replies to receive and the journey. We could be waiting months simply for the organization of such a thing and for what? The affirmation of a few silly society women I have nothing in common with except exile,” Amelia said, shaking her head.
“So we must prepare quickly for the nuptials,” Catherine said, clapping her hands together. “I love a wedding and it will be simply wonderful to see you married here, Amelia. It is surely the most romantic place imaginable.”
“You are funny, Catherine, you have such a sense of romance about you, as though you could fall in love with a landscape and ask for its hand,” Amelia said.
“It’s true, I have fallen totally in love with Scotland and Philip has, too. We were sitting by the loch this morning and the mist was hanging over the waters, the mountains rising up into the sky above as the dawn broke and I could think only of how perfect everything is,” Catherine said, her wistful words making the others laugh.
“Ye should try yer hand at poetry, lass,” Feargan said. “Ye have somethin’ of a way with words.”
Catherine blushed, and as they finished their breakfast they continued to discuss plans for the wedding of Amelia and Feargan. It would take place in the castle chapel and would be attended by a few select guests. A Catholic marriage was a dangerous affair, but with the presence of the Bonnie Prince in Edinburgh and the Jacobite cause holding its own, at least for now, there was a sense that now was the right time for them to wed.
They would not need a priest, though Amelia suggested that eventually they might go to France, where the marriage could be more publicly celebrated. Instead they would make public vows before their witnesses, namely Catherine, Philip, Alexander and the Earl of Workington, along with the servants and clansmen of the castle who had been excited to learn that their Laird was to marry.
There was an atmosphere of expectation over the coming days and clandestine messages were sent out, informing several others of the marriage plans. Amongst them was Lord James Addair, whom Feargan had stayed with in Edinburgh on his way back from France.
They had long been friends and Feargan now asked him to act as a witness for the wedding and to bring news of the Bonnie Prince in Edinburgh to Loch Beira. With these letters dispatched, it remained only for Feargan and Amelia to wait, her father insisting that a feast be planned to celebrate is daughter’s nuptials.
“I am the Earl of Workington, and I will not see my daughter’s wedding a quiet affair,” he said, assuring Feargan that he could meet any necessary expenses.
“But we must be careful. Father, you know the laws, and anti-Catholic sentiment is being whipped up all across England,” Amelia replied, looking to Feargan for support.
“And we are in Scotland and at this moment there is hope that the cause we have so longed for will be won. Besides, it is not every day that one’s daughter is married and given that I am an old man and have little left to look forward to, I hope to celebrate it,” the Earl replied. “And I am sure we will have most worthy Highland celebrations.”
“There must be dancing. I love the pipes. And a great feast, too, and we will celebrate long into the night,” Catherine said, clapping her hands together.
Amelia simply sighed and smiled. She knew she would be out-voiced in the matter and secretly she rather hoped for a wedding such as the Earl was describing. Ever since she had been a little girl, she had pictured her wedding, and this was certainly not how she had imagined it.
She had envisioned herself in Notre Dame, walking down the long aisle on her father’s arm. The Introit of the Mass would be wafting down from the choir loft above, the organ booming out, as the altar was wreathed in clouds of incense. The priest would intone the first words of Latin as her father presented her to a handsome and dashing man, the one with whom she would spend the rest of her life.
There would be no extravagant music, no smoke of incense, no priest wreathed in exotic vestments but there would be love. And that was all that mattered. Amelia knew she had found true love and that Feargan was the face of the handsome man, who in her childho
od she could never picture.
When marriage to Lord Torbay had first been suggested, Amelia had known that her childhood fantasy would come true. They would have been married in Notre Dame, or in one of the other grand Parisian churches, Saint-Sulpice, or Sacré-Cœur. There would have been esteemed guests, beautiful gowns, a dinner of extravagant proportions, in short every fantasy of her childhood, but there would not have been love.
It was love that Amelia craved, more than anything in the world. She didn’t need music, ceremony and ritual, nor a pretty gown and a retinue of attendants. All she wanted was Feargan and she would be as happy marrying him in the bothy up on the moorlands as in the grandeur and splendor of Notre Dame. It mattered not, so long as they were together.
* * *
It was just a week before the wedding and Catherine and Amelia were walking by the loch, out towards the pebbled beach. They were arm in arm, a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees and the sun was casting its rays upon the loch. They had left Feargan and Philip behind, enjoying a few precious moments of time alone.
The sisters had long been used to one another’s company but each knew that their time together was drawing to an end. When Catherine married Philip, it seemed inevitable that they would have to return south, leaving Amelia and Feargan in Scotland. It would be a hard wrench for both of them, and each knew that amidst the joys of their union they were also losing the companionship of one another.
“I think everything is in place now, Amelia. Alexander has ensured that all is ready for the dancing. I understand that some of the peasants are to play for us. I can’t wait to see the dancing, it will be quite something. And the kitchens are to provide us with a sumptuous feast. We will be…” Catherine said, her voicing rising in excitement.
“Catherine dear, I would gladly marry Feargan this afternoon and without all this fuss,” Amelia said. “And you have your own wedding to think of—do not neglect your own plans for my sake.”
“I only want it to be a special day for you. Philip and I have discussed our own marriage. Naturally, it will be a more public affair than your own. He is still Marquess of Torbay, after all, and I do hope you will travel south for the celebrations. We will marry at Workington, or so he says, and it is not too far,” Catherine replied, as the two sisters paused by the loch side.
“My dear Catherine, of course I shall come and Feargan, too. I would not miss my own sister’s wedding for anything. Isn’t it strange though, do you remember when we were children how we would play at weddings?” Amelia said, looking out across the water and smiling.
“Yes, do you remember little Pierre? The groom’s son? We used to take it in turns to make him the bridegroom and ‘marry’ him. I think I married him twenty times, the poor thing. You used to direct us and give all sorts of instructions,” Catherine said, laughing.
“And yet now our marriages are to be quite different, aren’t they?” Amelia said.
“Things don’t always work out in the way we envision them, but that doesn’t mean they’ve not worked out well,” Catherine replied. “Sometimes the happiest of things come quite unexpectedly.”
“Like you marrying Philip?” Amelia replied.
“And you meeting Feargan. If we had not been at the Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye that day and dear Hamish McBride had not introduced us, then all this would have simply been a dream,” Catherine said.
Amelia nodded. How right her sister was. As they walked on through the woods, she could not help but think just how lucky she was to have been the recipient of good circumstance. What unhappiness would have been hers had it not been for that chance encounter and how sad would all their lives had been if it were not that happy coming together.
“I still find it remarkable that Feargan and Philip are brothers,” Amelia said, as they emerged onto the pebbled beach and looked out across to the islands sitting like jewels in the loch.
“It truly is astonishing,” Catherine replied. “To think that each has lived without knowledge of the other all these years. It has transformed Philip. He is truly the person he was meant to be. I’d seen glimpses of it, and so had you, but now it is as though a mask has been removed and we can see the true Philip beneath. But tell me, Amelia, you have no desire to marry him? Now you know the truth and have seen this different side to him?”
Amelia smiled and patted her sister on the arm.
“Do not worry, dear Catherine, I have found my happiness and I rejoice that you have found yours, too.”
Catherine smiled and embraced her sister, but then, with a mischievous grin upon her face, she took her hand and pulled her towards the water’s edge.
“You must swim with me, Amelia, come now you must,” she cried, and with a great splash the two fell into the water, Amelia shrieking as Catherine laughed uncontrollably.
“Catherine,” Amelia spluttered, splashing in the water. “My gown, we shall have to walk back soaking wet.”
“The sun will dry us, Amelia. Come now, I shall race you out to the island,” Catherine cried, striking out across the waters, as Amelia followed behind.
“You are a most terrible prankster, Catherine. I bet you had planned that all the way here,” Amelia said, swimming alongside her sister.
“Only part of the way,” Catherine said, turning on her back to look up at the sky above. “It is so clear and blue. How I love Scotland, it is just so beautiful.”
“And more so when one is on dry land,” Amelia said, hauling herself up onto the rocks where just a few days previously Catherine had proposed marriage to Philip.
“But look, it’s beautiful isn’t it?” Catherine said, pointing down the loch to where the castle could just be seen, jutting out on the headland.
“It is, and we are lucky to be here,” Amelia replied, and with a dexterous turn she pushed her sister back into the water, now causing Catherine to shriek as Amelia laughed at her. “One prank deserves another—we are equal now.”
The two sisters remained on the island a little longer, talking of this and that, before swimming back to the shore. It had been a happy walk, and as they returned to the castle, they knew they had a happy future ahead of them. But whatever happened, the bonds of sisterly affection would remain and each knew that the love of the other was guaranteed. Wherever they were and on whatever shore they found themselves, Amelia and Catherine knew that the love they shared would last forever.
30
Lord Addair arrived two days before the wedding. He was a widower and had no children, arriving only with two servants and his carriage driver. The other guests would arrive on the day of the wedding itself, for no others were travelling any great distance.
As Amelia had wished, and despite her father’s best attempts, the nuptials would be a simple affair. But they would include the lavish feast which the Earl had insisted upon, the kitchens having been kept busy for several days preparing for the great day.
Lord Addair arrived in the afternoon and he brought with him a package which contained Feargan’s gift to Amelia. It was a wedding gown, purchased in Edinburgh and which both she and Catherine agreed was the most beautiful gown either had ever seen.
It was the color of ivory and made of the most exquisite French lace. Amelia tried it on at once and Catherine reported to Feargan and Lord Addair that it looked perfect, but that he would not see it until the wedding day itself.
“Silly nonsense,” Feargan said. “And I suppose we are to keep every Highland tradition, are we?”
“Ye have to, man,” Lord Addair said. “What is a weddin’ without tradition?”
“Let us just get on with it,” Feargan replied, shaking his head, as Catherine clattered back upstairs.
“‘Tis good to be here, though,” Lord Addair said. “And I have word from the Bonnie Prince for ye and Lord Torbay. He is glad yer differences are put aside and pleased to hear of the matrimonies forthcoming, but all is nae well in the Jacobite camp.”
“Then let us take a dram of whisky and talk th
ings over, me old friend,” Feargan said.
Philip and Alexander Galbreth were out stalking on the moorlands above the castle and the Earl of Workington had taken to his bed with an attack of gout. Feargan was eager for news, partly the reason why he had invited Lord Addair to the nuptials, as well as being a convenient carrier for Amelia’s gown.
The two had been friends for many years, united by a common cause. But they had both seen folly in Charles Edward Stuart’s decision to land a force in Scotland. Lord Addair , whose name was James, had long suspected that the Jacobite cause was lost, and he was not afraid to speak his mind, though it generally fell on deaf ears.
There was little strength left in a movement wearied by war and Feargan’s sojourn to France had confirmed that the court in exile had no real understanding of the situation back home. Now that the Bonnie Prince had taken Edinburgh, his next move was uncertain and there was no chance of rallying a sufficient fighting force to march south. Defeat appeared inevitable but still others, like the Earl of Workington, clung to hope. Hope in a cause which had had its day.
Highlander's Hidden Destiny (Steamy Scottish Historical) Page 24