As soon as Arbella spotted Tamara’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained face, she knew something was wrong. Duncan’s hand was dropped as she ran to Tamara side. “What is it?”
Tamara was so distraught all she could do was drop her head in her hands like it weighed too much to hold. Arbella looked at Bryce and Grant, demanding, “What is going on?”
No one would speak. She turned to her husband. “Duncan, order them to tell me what is going on.”
“She took her, didn’t she?” Duncan’s anguished voice asked.
Tamara wailed louder. Andrew fussed more. Bryce bounced the lad harder to try and soothe him. Finally Grant confirmed their worst fears. “It appears to be so. They are both missing.”
Arbella pulled at Duncan’s arm and peered up at him, longing to understand what was happening. He avoided her gaze as he spoke, “Lyall took Glenna Rose.”
Arbella frowned. “Took her? But where?”
Duncan put his hands on her arms to steady her. “Arbella, Lyall took Glenna away. We don’t know where.”
Arbella collapsed. When she awoke sometime later, she found she had been laid out on a soft seat in the main room. A flurry of activity surrounded her. She lay there for a moment, remembering what had caused her to swoon. Tears flooded her eyes as the nightmare transformed to reality. Body dropping to the side of her seat, she poured her heart out to her Lord, praying for her daughter’s safe return.
****
Duncan hadn’t needed anyone to tell him anything. He remembered Grant’s letter about Lyall wailing for a lost child, and in his mind he put that together with his daughter’s absence, and he knew what had happened.
When he saw his wife on her knees, a part of him wished to join her there, but another part of him nagged that he didn’t deserve comfort. The only reason his daughter was missing was because he chose to spend private time with his wife and not protect his child. Besides, he didn’t have time to pray, right? He was in the middle of trying to organize a search.
Duncan faced the men who gathered. The room was crowded with people. From wall to wall, the room was filled. Every man and woman in the keep must have come to help. As he addressed the crowd, his voice trembled, “As ye all know, Lyall arrived home today. After her arrival, she proceeded to sneak and take Glenna Rose.”
The women in attendance gasped in horror. They noticed Arbella on her knees, and they went to her, lifting her up and offering words of love and a promise to help in any way possible. Duncan watched the women of his clan come to Arbella’s aid as he continued, “We believe Lyall has hidden somewhere in the village. She is in a state of mental duress. It is not known why or how, but we believe she thinks Glenna is her own daughter.” At this statement, whisperings and murmurings could be heard. Duncan raised a hand for silence and continued, “Because of this, she is sure to go to any means necessary to protect the lass. Lyall must be approached with extreme caution. Otherwise she may harm…” he choked on the last word, “…Glenna.”
Duncan could say no more, and Grant took his place. “Each of ye will be divided into groups and take a section of the village. If ye discover Lyall, ye are to retrieve Duncan or myself. Ye are not to engage Lyall by any means. Do ye understand?”
All the heads in the room nodded. Tamara handed a hungry Andrew to his mother, and Arbella began to feed him, gathering comfort from his tiny warm body. Duncan couldn’t look at them. They meant more to him than life. If something happened to Glenna Rose, he didn’t know if he could live with himself.
Grant separated the villagers into inconspicuous groups and released them on the village. Duncan joined one of the groups and walked out the door, leaving Arbella behind with Tamara and their son.
****
Lyall was in her own little pit of misery. At first the little babe had taken the milk she offered just fine, but then she began to fuss and wail. Arms flung and plump legs pumped fiercely in agitation. Lyall spread a cover on the dirt floor and laid the babe upon it, but the child wailed all the more. She had no idea what was wrong. Holding the babe, she bounced her around. Finally a loud burp emitted from the tiny mouth. Lyall was hopeful all was well, but then the child burped again, and Lyall was sprayed from neck to waist with sour-smelling liquid. She almost flung the babe at the fireplace, but she restrained herself. With a deep breath, she placed the babe back on the coverlet and went outside the hut. The waning daylight would be used to investigate the damage to her favorite dress.
****
Little did Lyall know a mob of people was converging on her from all directions. Arbella caught up with Duncan as he stepped in front of the last hut on the row. The home was buried in the corner, and in the front yard stood a distracted Lyall. She was ranting and raving about the babe having the nerve to spit and saying words about how next time the child would be punished.
She had retrieved a bucket filled with putrid water that sat in the yard, probably since the old widow had expired. A piece of her skirt had been ripped and hung dripping wet. She dabbed away spittle from the front of her dress. When she had cleaned as much as she could, she looked up and spotted a dumbfounded Duncan and Arbella staring at her. Surely the woman knew she couldn’t make it back inside before they stopped her.
“Well, fancy meeting ye two here. I just moved in, and I wasn’t exactly prepared for visitors.”
Duncan couldn’t speak. Inside the hut directly in front of him was his daughter. She better be in one piece or Lyall won’t live to see tomorrow. As he stared at the building, Lyall looked back and forth between them.
“How does it feel?” she asked.
Neither one of them answered. Lyall screamed, “How does it feel, I said! Ye took my daughter, so I took yours.”
Duncan watched the face lined with a smirk. “Lyall, I didna even know ye had a daughter, so how could I take her?”
Lyall’s laugh chilled Duncan to the bone. “Ye took her just as ye and yer kind took everything else from me. First ye took my mother, then my father left me alone to wallow in his own self pity. But that was all right because Sori came to be with me.” Duncan gave her an incredulous look, and she started to speak again, “Don’t look at me as if ye never met Sori. She is my best friend, my only friend. She lives inside of me, and I in her. She helped with poisoning my step-mother and Cainneach. I told her he would eventually just give up on life and kill himself, but she couldn’t wait. Ye weren’t supposed to return to take charge, ye know. But when ye did, Sori’s plan was to marry ye so I could rule the keep, but ye would have nothing to do with me. Then there was the minstrel, who fell dead at yer feet in the main hall. That was the man I truly loved. We were to be married, but my father…” she paused, hatred dripping from her tongue as she turned her head and spit the taste of his name on the ground, “…wouldn’t allow it. He forced me to marry Cainneach. I guess Grant told ye my father had no intention of naming me heir and allowing the Sinclairs to claim the Burns’s lands.”
Duncan could feel Arbella squeezing his hand. They both had seen Grant and Bryce trying to sneak into the back of the hut. They had to keep Lyall talking. “Why did ye kill the one ye loved?”
Lyall appeared shocked by his ignorance. “Isn’t it obvious? He was tryin’ to tell ye what I’d done to Cainneach!”
“’Wis’ was for the wisteria flower, yer favorite fragrance,” said Duncan recognition lighting his face.
Lyall clapped. “Verra good. Wisteria won’t kill ye in small doses, but it does make ye verra sick. But give it to someone with no will to live, then add a little belladonna, and ye got one dead relative — or three or four.”
“Was Cainneach the father?”
“Arbella, does he listen to ye like this? I told ye the truth. I never allowed Cainneach to touch me. Yer minstrel was the father.”
Duncan realized too late his line of questioning might have drawn her attention to the babe. Then Arbella shouted, “Duncan, look!”
The roof was afire. Flames shooting from the chimney were falling
down on the roof. The built-up creosote oak caused the flames to shoot extra high. As one of the sparks fell on the straw, the roof ignited. Arbella’s foot stepped forward, intent on rushing into the burning hut.
Glenna Rose’s hearty wail echoed through the open windows. Lyall used this distraction as her chance to get away and shot inside.
“Lyall!” yelled Duncan and Arbella at the same time. The name died from their lips as the hut’s ceiling collapsed. From inside came wails of anguish and agony. The roof collapse had trapped its inhabitants inside the burning structure.
Arbella buried her head in Duncan’s chest. He rested his head upon her hair. He would never forgive himself for the death of their child. Duncan and Arbella lifted their head in unison when they continued to hear a discontented wail. Grant and Bryce moved around from behind a nearby building, Grant cradling Glenna Rose in their arms.
Chapter Fifty-One
After Duncan and Arbella took Glenna back to the keep, a downpour descended. The fire in the hut was doused; left in its place was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash and rubble. The rain was relentless as if performing a cleansing ritual on the land. When the rain ended, a rainbow was seen arching over the blue sky.
Duncan held one sleeping babe while Arbella held the other. He placed a thumb in Glenna’s small hand, feeling reassured as she squeezed in her sleep. He smoothed her brow and rubbed her soft head. She was so beautiful. They had named her Glenna Rose, Valley of Roses, after his mother, Rose. At one time the walls of the keep had been full of roses, but Lyall had had them removed and destroyed.
Thinking about Lyall soured his stomach. All those acts she’d committed, killing so many people without having a care for her actions. After her confession the day of the fire, Grant had told them about the mystery surrounding the death of her father. After much thought, they came to the conclusion Lyall had been a disturbed woman. Her mother’s death and her father’s denial of her very existence had caused her to create an imaginary friend, who she used whenever she wanted to comment a sinful act. That way it was always Sori who was bad, while she was still pure. She used Sori to murder countless people, including Duncan’s brother. Lyall would have even succeeded in murdering Arbella if the lass hadn’t have been found by the wandering seamstress.
Several days had passed since the fire and the remains of the building had cooled enough to be searched. Lyall’s fleshless bones were removed. Duncan wanted to crush them and feed them to the swine, but Arbella said they should give her a proper funeral. She felt, under a different set of circumstances, she could have been just like Lyall.
“Don’t say such things.”
“Think about it, Duncan. Both our mothers died when we were young. Both our fathers grieved too long and left us to our own devices. If not for the love of your family and the love of Christ, what would have happened to me?”
“Not that. She was a monster. Ye could never be a monster.”
Arbella patted Duncan. “Only because of the grace of God. We are all born as sinners, Duncan. None of us deserve heaven, but He gives it to us as a free gift. Remember the verse we read in Romans recently: ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’”
Duncan looked at Arbella and his children and felt nothing but shame. “I am not worthy to call yer wife.”
“Oh, Duncan, don’t be so hard on yourself. Just come as you are to the Lord, and He will forgive you and help you work it through.”
That night while his family slept, he headed to the new church. It had yet to be used because of Lyall’s interference. Duncan decided he’d waited too long. He walked to the altar and dropped to his knees. “Lord, forgive me, a sinner.”
Epilogue
Some weeks later, an urgent message arrived. Bryce had already been sent back to the Cameron keep, and Grant was preparing to leave as well. He told Arbella, Duncan, and the others good-bye so many times he was tiring of it. Today he was readying his horse for travel when Boyd, Duncan’s new second-in-command, came in and handed him a sealed roll of parchment.
“What is this?’
“Don’t know. A Cameron lad came and left it for ye, then rushed off.”
Grant took the roll and broke the seal. Unrolling it, he read:
Grant, I wish I had time for pleasantries and all the normal platitudes I share with ye, but I am afraid this time I write for another purpose. I believe I am in grave danger. I have included a map and directions of my location. Come quickly, Grant. I need ye.
Yer brother, Samuel
About the Author
Felicia Rogers, born and raised in the southern part of the United States, is a Christian wife and mother. She is just your average, ordinary woman, with a side interest-- writing. For eleven years, every waking moment of her life was consumed with changing diapers, wiping noses, and kissing scrapes. But now that her children have grown and she enjoys a modicum of freedom, in addition to taking care of hearth and home, she writes! She enjoys adding a flavor of realism and humor to her all too real romance stories. For what is love without a little laughter?
Also by Felicia Rogers:
Prologue
Wilt Hotham stood behind the chair, fingers drumming upon the wood. “Do you have news to report?”
“I’m afraid so, my lord,” answered the messenger, eyes shifting.
“What is this news?”
“Remember, I am but the messenger.”
“Of course, I understand. Now get on with it. Give me the news of my brother. Was he successful?”
The messenger trembled as he answered, “Nay.”
“Nay?” Wilt widened his eyes. Anger caused sweat to bead upon his brow. Hands clenched by his sides, he waited for more.
“Nay, sir. Unsuccessful, I’m afraid. The mistress of Greenbriar wasn’t to his… liking.”
Wilt flung his arms into the air, stomping his feet. His hands flipped the table, sending decanters full of whiskey against the wall. Amber-colored ink trailed downward, pooling silently on the white rug. Wilt’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he saw the servant shy away.
Good. At least someone recognized his power.
After the tirade passed, Wilt jerked his waistcoat down, placed thumbs against his ribcage and asked the servant to continue with the news.
Straightening from a cowering position, the servant began again with a trembling voice. “Your brother returned home and, well, he…”
“Aye? What happened? Let me guess. Spent the whole week in the bedroom weeping like a child! Our family is in ruins. Our wealth completely disappeared because of his ‘habits.’ Our one chance to rectify the situation and he finds the bride unsatisfactory.” Taking a deep breath to calm his wildly beating heart, Wilt stared at the servant. “You will travel to see my brother. You will tell him he must go back and marry the mistress, claim the land for his own, and sell it. I don’t care whether the woman is to his liking or not! I will not lose everything because my brother is unwilling to experience the least amount of discomfort!”
The servant shuffled his feet.
“Do stop your fidgeting, and do as I say!”
“But, my lord—”
“What is it now?”
“I am afraid—”
“Aye? What is it? Come out with it then?”
“I’m afraid your brother is dead.”
Chapter One
England 1551
Cedric knelt awaiting the announcement of the English king. Some would say this was an unusual position for a Scot, but others would take the opportunity to remind the uninformed that the man wasn’t truly a Scot. In his experience, educating those people on his heritage and explaining the situation did little good. It was best to stay focused on the here and now, like the shininess of the floor, not the sounds of a crowd snickering at his back. These wayward thoughts ended when the sound of the young King Edward’s voice boomed.
“Cedric MacNeil of Scotland, it is an honor to have you in my court.”
Cedric’s h
ead raised a fraction. His eyes shifted, looking around and noticing how the King’s minions were nodding their heads in agreement.
“You came to this court and offered your sword as a service to the English crown. In the beginning, it was our opinion perhaps you should be denied this privilege. But, after much thought and consideration the opportunity was extended to you. Not because of you, of course, but because of your mother, Elinor. Father was fond of her. She was a member of his court and held a prominent position in our English society.”
Heads around the room nodded once again, as the King gleefully added, “I can also say, agreeing to send you to compete in the tourney on behalf of my crown has brought me much reward.”
Here, the King paused and beckoned a man forward. He whispered unintelligible words, causing the servant to nod. The King continued his speech. “In order to reward you, as you have rewarded this court with your service, I wish to offer you not only the gold you’ve earned, but also a worthy piece of land.”
At the word “land,” Cedric’s head popped up. The faces around the room were wide with peculiar smiles.
The King motioned his secretary forward. In a businesslike fashion, the man spoke. The information concerned the location and the dimensions of the land. At the end, the king’s assistant added one more detail. “In order to secure the property as your own, there is one stipulation.”
Cedric stared at the shiny floor, which reflected back to him his expressions of honest interest. With renewed focus, Cedric listened to the attendant’s continuing speech. “In order to acquire this piece of property permanently, you must marry the previous land owner’s daughter.”
At the pronouncement, the whole court burst out in riotous laughter. In a flourish, the King dismissed everyone in the room, leaving in a flurry of robes himself. On bended knee, Cedric was left alone in the vast room wondering about his future. What could have been so amusing to the crowd?
By God's Grace Page 26