Ghosts of Culloden Moor 29 - Rory (Jones)

by L. L. Muir

  A shrill chime blasted through the interior of the car, raising the hackles on the back of his neck. He tensed, waiting for something sinister to happen, feeling wholly unprepared for whatever it was.

  Without missing a beat, Lilly reached inside the bag that sat between them and pulled out one of the talking devices he’d seen tourists use. She glanced at it, touched the surface with her thumb and tossed it back inside. “Sorry about that.” Her chin came up with an air of control he suspected she didn’t feel. “That was my father with another lecture, I’m sure. I’ll let him scold me in private, later. No need for your ears to burn as well.”

  As relieved as Rory was to have the piercing sound stop, he worried over the strain the incident had left on Lilly’s face. He watched her chew the inside of her cheek, wishing he could somehow ease her distress. He’d lived under the yoke of a resentful relative, but he’d imagined—hoped at least—a father would be kinder. Gentler. He wanted to ask about her father but sensed he should allow her to reveal what she wished, in her own time.

  Rubbing a palm against her leg as if wiping nervous perspiration away, she glanced uneasily in his direction before turning her attention back to the road. “This must seem rather odd and terribly rushed to you, Rory, but…well, it is.”

  Rory waited for her to continue.

  “I’ve recently learned, since I’m the last of the McCallum bloodline, I’m to inherit the piece of land my grandparents lived on. Before Culloden and the clearances, of course.” Anxiety thickened her sigh. “There’s a deadline to accept it, or it will go up for public auction.”

  Rory didn’t miss the shift in her posture or the way her hands tensed on the steering wheel. “When is the deadline?”

  “Five o’clock today.” Her words were tight, as if she didn’t want to release them. “As soon as I learned of the inheritance, I booked the earliest possible flight and arrived last night. I have an appointment with a solicitor in Inverness at nine o’clock this morning, which is why I visited Culloden Moor so early. It would have happened some time ago - my coming here, I mean, had I known anything about my grandmother’s legacy.”

  Even though Lilly kept her eyes on the road, Rory could tell she was struggling with something.

  “You see,” she continued, “my father has always had a very specific plan for my life, and I knew he’d do almost anything to ensure his plan came to fruition, but I never once thought he’d go so far as to hide something this big from me.” She shoved a lock of hair from her face. “Obviously, I was wrong.”

  Despite her visible anger, her voice held an odd mixture of sadness and disbelief and Rory had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her in a gesture of comfort.

  The light dimmed as a cloud covered the sun. Lilly pushed her dark glasses atop her head and massaged the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why his actions were such a surprise. My father thoroughly despised my mother’s Scottish roots and wouldn’t let her discuss or recognize any part of her family history. So, after she died, I learned about my Scottish ancestry from my maternal grandmother, in secret.”

  She smiled wistfully, “Oh, the wonderful stories I heard!”

  “That must’ve been a special time for ye.” Rory noted the light that memory brought to Lilly’s face.

  “It was,” she sighed, seeming to release some of the tension from her father’s call. “I learned about many women in my Scottish ancestry, all the way back to Grandmother MacCallum, but it was her I most connected with. I became fascinated with her story, the love she and John Thomas shared and what they’d endured to earn, and keep that piece of land. And then…Culloden.”

  Lilly tightened her chin to hide a quiver. “My poor grandmother waited, desperate for any word of her husband, while days turned into weeks. She struggled to care for herself and her little girl. And when the time came to give birth to her second child, she delivered alone, and was still alone when the baby died, just days later.”

  Lilly sighed and shook her head. “And on top of all that, she’d been dealing with a difficult neighbor over some land dispute.”

  Difficult? Rory shifted in the seat, regretting the enormous breakfast he’d eaten. Perhaps if he opened a window… Lilly may have heard stories about Uncle Jascol but Rory had lived them. His uncle’s methods were what had driven Rory away at such a young age.

  “From what I understand,” Lilly continued, “Iseabail hung on through everything, still praying for my grandfather’s return, until the clearances made it too dangerous to stay any longer. Out of options, she took her small daughter and fled in the night, hoping someday, to go back. But she never did.”

  Rory remembered all too well, the horrors of the clearances when he was tethered in his ghostly state to the moor, and could do nothing about it. The reality of anything he could add would only cause her more grief, so he remained silent.

  Lilly tossed him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve digressed something awful. I tend to get caught up in the past, where my grandmother is concerned.”

  “ ’Tis fine.” Despite his feelings to the contrary, ’twas clear how much her family history meant to her.

  “So…back to the property. Last week I discovered Iseabail’s farmstead should have become mine on my twenty-first birthday. Apparently, my father kept it from me, even intercepting some mail in hopes the three-year deadline after my grandmother’s passing would expire before I found out about it.”

  The tenseness returned, in the set of her mouth and her tight grip on the wheel. “I learned of his deception just last week when I received a letter from my grandmother’s executor warning me of the approaching deadline. It included a generous offer he’d received from a solicitor here in Scotland, to purchase the land for an undisclosed buyer.”

  “Did ye come to sell it, then?” Rory asked. Mayhap she just wanted to see the property before she let it go.”

  She gave a short, humorless grunt. “I have no intention of selling. But for some reason, the papers and deeds need to be signed over here. So, here I am, three years late.” She tapped the tips of her fingers on the curve of steering wheel. “I’ll still receive it on my birthday, as my grandmother planned. Just not the same one.”

  “Today is yer birthday, Lilly?”

  “It is,” she smiled bashfully before switching to a look of consternation. “My father and I had a huge fight. I’m angry with him over his deception and he’s angry with me for defying his orders. He’s furious with the executor for sending the letter and the house staff for delivering it to me before he could confiscate it. I still can’t believe he’d have let me forfeit the land rather than tell me about it. It’s not as if I’m never going back to him and his carefully laid plans.”

  Lilly’s ever changing expressions captivated Rory. “I dinna ken why he would deny ye yer inheritance, but ’tis of no consequence. Ye’re of an age to decide for yerself, are ye no’?”

  “My father has orchestrated a very definite course for my future.” The cadence of her words was exact, as if reciting a practiced verse. “I’ve been groomed my whole life to build up and eventually carry on his business. He’s not about to let me forget the investment he’s made in educating me to do so.”

  Had nothing changed in nearly three centuries? He and Lilly may have grown up in different times and circumstances, and mayhap her father even loved her in his own way, where Rory’s uncle had nothing but resentment for him, but it seemed neither of them held any real value beyond the service they could provide, as payment for their existence.

  Rory grimaced, tamping down the bitterness he still held for the man that had driven him away from his own inheritance so many years ago. Had Rory survived Culloden and been blessed with a child, he’d have dedicated his life to ensuring that child knew his father’s love had no conditions, expectations or boundaries.

  He swallowed hard, pushing the grief aside, annoyed that something that happened centuries ago, still had the power to hurt him. But, the closer t
hey got to his home the harder it became to pretend the pain didn’t matter.

  By the saints, he had to focus on something else! Lilly. He couldna fix his own past but mayhap he could make hers a bit easier.

  As they entered the outskirts of Inverness, Rory gaped at the changes in the city. He’d not expected it to be the same, of course, but what he saw left him astounded.

  Lilly blindly fished a paper from her bag and handed it to Rory. “Since you’re riding Shotgun, why don’t you navigate? The directions to the solicitor’s office are on there.”

  “Shotgun?” He unfolded the paper and read the street names. Many were new and strange.

  Finally, after a few false turns, Lilly parked, cut the engine and nervously removed her glasses as she checked her watch. She was gathering her bag when her talking device once again sounded from its depths. This time, with a different sound.

  Frustration tightened her face as she read the caller’s name. “Not now, Miles,” she groaned, swiping a finger across the object as she shoved it back in her bag and turned to Rory.

  “I believe the office is just a few doors down. Would you prefer to wait here, or inside? I’m sure they’ll have a reception area of some sort. I’m afraid I have no idea how long it will take, but then we can be on our way.” Her sudden grin was infectious. “I can’t wait to see it. To actually step foot on my own ancestral piece of Scotland!”

  Rory swallowed the urge to ask her who Miles was and smiled back. “Dinna fash, lass. I’ll walk ye down and post myself just outside. There’s plenty to hold my attention, with all these strange sights.” He’d caught himself too late. He’d need to be more careful. “It’s been a wee spell since I’ve visited Inverness, ye ken?”

  “Of course.” She pulled the strap of her bag over a shoulder and opened the door. “Shall we go?”

  ~ ~ ~

  Lilly’s balance between anticipation and trepidation grew more tenuous with each step they took toward the solicitor’s office. Coming here, doing this against her father’s wishes was the most blatant act of rebellion and independence she’d ever made. Its significance was huge.

  As was her anger with him for plotting against her. It was more than the potential loss of the land that bothered her. It was knowing how far he was willing to go to satisfy his loathing of her Scottish heritage, and ensure his vision for her future.

  His total disregard for her wishes, or even her preferences, hurt more than she cared to admit. And for the first time, she felt some anger toward her mother for allowing him to obliterate her own roots, all those years ago. Her mother had deserved better.

  And, so did she.

  Rory steered her through a surprisingly congested flow of people for this early in the morning. As they neared their destination, a scruffy man with long, grungy hair, straightened from his slouch against the building and fixed his watery gaze on her. His stare showed an interest in her that was more than a little unnerving.

  Lilly glared back at him, thinking he’d realize his rudeness and look away. Instead he started toward her and she instinctively moved closer to Rory. “Do you know that man?”

  “Nay. No’ yet.” He moved a little ahead of her. “But if he makes even the slightest move toward ye, I’ll remedy that soon enough.”

  Startled at how fierce Rory sounded, Lilly put a hand on his arm just in case he was serious. “It’s fine. Let’s just ignore him. I don’t want any trouble. Or delays.”

  “ ’Ere ye Lillian Carver?” The man asked, darting between the two of them before either she or Rory could react.

  “Who are you?” Lilly demanded, averting her face. He reeked of cheap booze, stale cigarettes and an unwashed body. She’d have fallen into him if Rory hadn’t instantly recovered and pulled her back, staying the man’s hand as he reached for her.

  The sudden appearance of a small knife in Rory’s hand startled her as he pressed it tightly to the stranger’s side. She hadn’t even seen him reach for it.

  “Have a care, laddie,” Rory warned in a whispered tone that sent a chill up Lilly’s spine. “Mind ye, have a show of respect when speaking to the lady.”

  The man turned his head very slowly to peer at Rory, his bleary eyes wide with fright. “No disrespect intended, I swear. I’m jus’ supposed to deliver a message.”

  “Deliver it, then. But carefully.” The man winced when Rory leaned in, his warning clear.

  People passed around them, seemingly oblivious, as Lilly struggled to calm her racing heart. The man’s hand trembled while reaching inside his jacket with slow, measured movements, his eyes on Rory all the while. “I don’ get the second bottle if I don’ deliver the paper. Tha’s all I wanna do. Just deliver the paper.”

  “Who sent ye?” Rory demanded as the man pulled a white envelope from his inside pocket.

  “I don’ know. A stranger gave me a bottle and this here lady’s description. Said I was ta wait here ’til she came and after I delivered the letter, there’d be another bottle waitin’ for me. Tha’s all I know. I swear.” He leaned in close and shoved the letter against Lilly’s chest. “There.”

  Lilly recoiled from his touch as Rory yanked him away with a low growl.

  “Och! Ye near cut me!” The man whined, backing into the crowd. He pointed to the letter that had fallen to the ground. “There it is. I done the job.”

  Still shaking, Lilly had to admit she was comforted by the speed and skill with which Rory had come to her defense, but she was also a little startled by how fast and far it had gone. Perhaps in her eagerness to get here, she’d underestimated the potential danger for a single woman traveling alone. Rory obviously hadn’t.

  For a moment, it seemed as if they’d been whisked back a few centuries when defensive actions were by nature, quick and potentially deadly. Regardless, she gave thanks to the unseen forces that had put Rory in her path this morning and convinced him to act as her guide. She hated to think of facing that man alone.

  Rory retrieved the envelope as the man faded into the passing flow of strangers. When he turned to her, he took one look and pulled her close. “ ’Tis over now, lass.”

  Just minutes ago, she’d have been ashamed to admit the need to be held close, supported by the strength of a near stranger, but right now she’d willingly take out a billboard advertising her weakness if it meant leaning on Rory a bit longer. The tough, no-nonsense ad-executive she’d molded herself into had dissolved into a shaky, needy…girl.

  At that realization, she felt her anger begin to build. She welcomed it, nurturing it into a strength-inducing rage. Why would someone have her accosted like that? Why go to such bizarre lengths just to deliver a message? No one even knew she was here. She’d barely known she was coming. How had anyone else?

  Her father hadn’t wanted her to come to Scotland, or have anything to do with her Scottish roots, but even he wouldn’t resort to tactics like this.

  Before she could pull away, Rory released her and put a hand to her elbow. “Let’s get ye off the street.”

  “Wait.” She stopped mid-stride, ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. As she unfolded it, the bold, typed words seemed to jump from the page:

  GO HOME, YANK

  YOU DON’T BELONG HERE

  SCOTLAND COULD PROVE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rory gathered Lilly, shocked and shaking, back into his arms. Too many people still flowed around them for his comfort. ’Twould be harder to protect her here, if need be.

  “Who would do this?” She curled her fingers into the wool of his plaid as she leaned into him. Before he could respond, she’d pulled back and was glancing suspiciously at everyone who passed by. “This is a huge mistake,” she whispered. “No one knows I’m here!”

  Rory wished he could say something to ease her distress but the hackles standing on the back of his neck told him otherwise. The man had called Lilly by name. “ ’Tis obviously no’ a secret to someone.” He took her arm and turned h
er toward the solicitor’s office. ’Twas no’ the place to have this conversation. “Let’s get ye inside where ye can rest a bit, before yer appointment.”

  “Yes…yes, of course.” Lilly nodded making one last, uneasy scan through the crowd.

  Rory closed the door behind them, muffling the street sounds. He watched some of the tension leave Lilly’s shoulders, as if the thin barrier could actually protect her from the dangers beyond. He knew better and, he imagined, so did she.

  The peril lurking behind this kind of tactic was all too familiar to him. Intimidation was exactly the kind of method his uncle had used to threaten anyone who stood between him and something he wanted. Anything he wanted. Even as small as the last crust of dry bread.

  But for some reason, he’d have thought the people of Lilly’s acquaintance to be as far from his uncle’s sort, as the centuries that divided them. However, the warning she’d received proved otherwise.

  So, who were they, and what did Lilly have that they wanted? Men who operated the way his uncle had, didn’t have the patience for subtlety. Lilly was in Scotland for only one thing. Her grandmother’s land. Someone here, didn’t want her to claim it.

  Land feuds had been the life-force of his uncle’s existence. He’d fought with every land owner in their glen, including the McCallums. But even his uncle’s hate couldn’t reach through centuries. So, who was it?

  Lilly had finished speaking with a pleasant-looking, middle-aged woman and motioned him to sit beside her on a padded bench, far too fragile looking for his comfort. But she was back on her feet within seconds, pacing the room, nervously twisting the strap of her bag. Her pretty mouth was tight with fear, or anger. Rory wasn’t sure which.

  “Miss Carver?” The woman waited for Lilly to turn. “Mr. McAdams will see you now.”

  “Thank you,” Lilly was halfway across the elegant rug when she paused and looked at Rory. “Come with me.”