by Barbara Bard
“Blair is the laird now. It is his choice,” Drew said in a hollow tone.
* * *
“Blair hae made the wrong choice.”
* * *
“Because he chose another woman over you? Deirdre, he did nae make any promises tae ye. Ye shared a brief attraction, but that was all. You had nae claim tae him, and ye are nae justified in plotting against him just because ye are scorned.”
* * *
“I have every right,” Deirdre said, narrowing her eyes at him, “and ye would be wise tae think about what I offer. If this is the choice Blair makes now, imagine what he will make if we go tae war. What if Rosemary's people offer him an alliance? What if she runs back tae them and says that she won't return unless he lays down arms? She is a weakness to him, and we cannae allow her to have so much control over him.”
* * *
“I don't think anyone hae any control over my brother. He hae always been like a storm, tempestuous and uncontrollable. That is why he brought her back in the first place.”
* * *
“I can make it look like an accident. I can get her alone and kill her. Nobody would be able tae trace it back to me, or ye.”
* * *
“What ye talk of is treason. Ye are fortunate that I don't take this tae Blair himself.”
* * *
“Ye wouldn't dare, because ye feel the same as me. Perhaps all this time I chose tae pursue the wrong brother. Perhaps your father did as well. There are many of us who feel that ye would make a better laird than Blair,” Deirdre said, lowering her tone to a breathy whisper. She moved in closer to Drew, placing her hand upon his chest, looking up at him with her sultry green eyes. For a moment Drew was tempted, his manly urges rampaging through his body, but if he gave into her then Deirdre would try and twist his mind to do her bidding.
* * *
Drew took her hand and pulled it away from his chest. Deirdre's face fell, her expression frustrated and annoyed.
* * *
“Be at peace, Deirdre. Forget this course of action. It is nae right that ye should be plotting against the leaders of the clan. Dinnae make any further moves like this or I will be forced tae bring ye before Blair.”
* * *
“If you're taking your brother's side now then you're as foolish as he is. You know what this clan needs, and your brother cannae provide it.”
* * *
“That may be true. I have my doubts about Blair, but I would never plot against him. Ye do yourself a disservice. It's something the English would do.”
* * *
“Then ye should watch your back because I can guarantee you Rosemary is plotting something. Do ye really think it's just a coincidence that she ran into Blair just as the English were capturing Gall and executing him? There's something strange afoot, Drew, and if ye don't do something soon it'll be tae late,” Deirdre said as she stormed off.
* * *
Drew remained standing where he was for a few moments as he let Deirdre's words sink in. He didn't want to believe her, but she made a lot of sense. Still, he couldn't allow a plot against his brother to fester, no matter how much he disagreed with some of Blair's decisions. The two of them had been through too much to let their relationship be marred with betrayal, but Drew would have to have a conversation with him soon. There was much they needed to discuss.
* * *
Turning on his heels, Drew walked towards the castle where the feast was being held. His heart was heavy, and the air was thick with grim portents of the future. The closer he got to the castle the louder the noise inside grew.
* * *
Before he entered, Drew took a deep breath. With the leaders of the other clans inside, it would be difficult to get an audience with Blair, so his thoughts would have to linger within him for now. Hopefully Blair would see reason, and hopefully Rosemary wasn't plotting against him.
* * *
Drew tried to remember the words his mother had told him, and promised himself he would do his best to live up to his father's wishes. The only thing standing in the way was Blair, for if his brother was unreasonable, or if Blair's judgment had been impaired by the love he had for Rosemary, Drew would have to take matters into his own hands. It was a last resort, but a possibility nonetheless.
3
The night had been long and restless for Sarah. Twisting and turning all night, she had been unable to sleep properly, even though the bed was so comfortable. Her dreams and thoughts had been plagued with horrible visions of the future. She had been unable to settle for fear that guards would storm into her room and accuse her of being an impostor.
* * *
So far she had been lucky that Harold and Catherine had both accepted her as who she said she was, although she didn't understand why when she had always been plain compared with Rosemary, and she certainly didn't think herself pretty enough to be the wife of a lord. It was only a matter of time before she was found out. Perhaps it would be better if she simply announced the truth herself. If she came clean of her own accord Lord Flynn may show mercy and not toss her in a dungeon.
* * *
Her ravaged mind turned through many possibilities as the silver moon hung high in the sky. She did not know if death or a dungeon would be a worse fate. At least if she was executed the suffering would be over quickly, and she could be with her parents once more. If she were thrown in a dungeon she would have to suffer for the rest of her life, until her body eventually gave up anyway.
* * *
The only other punishment was being exiled. She could recover from that, even though it meant she would be on her own again. Just like she was when her parents had died. It was doubtful that she would find anyone like Lord Brambly to take her in, but at the least she hoped she would be able to forge a life for herself. That seemed to be the best-case scenario.
* * *
The only other possibility remaining to her was that the ruse would actually work and Lord Flynn would never discover that she wasn't, in fact, Rosemary Brambly. It didn't seem possible that that could actually happen though, and the fear stabbed at her mind.
* * *
All night long she twisted and turned, imagining being in a dingy dungeon, laying against cold, hard rock with water dripping down. Dressed in rags, she would be torn from the world and given no chance to live a life of her own. She had hoped at some stage to have a family, to find a nice young man and be married. It would be a humble life, but one that she could cherish and call her own.
* * *
Instead, she would be forgotten.
* * *
There had to be a way out.
* * *
In the middle of the night, Sarah awoke and moved to the window, where she gazed out at the silver moon. The night sky was black, with stars dotted around. It looked entirely beautiful.
* * *
“Where are you, Rosemary?” she whispered, hoping that her words would be carried on the wind. Silent tears trickled down her face. Rosemary had always been a source of strength to Sarah. Without her, Sarah didn't know what to do or how to act.
* * *
Looking out the window, Sarah wondered what Rosemary would do in this situation. Rosemary had always had more courage than her. She would most likely have climbed out the window and sneaked away in the cloak of night. Sarah thought about it, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything like that. Undoubtedly something would go wrong and the ruse would be discovered. No, her best chance was to stay in the palace for the time being and try to act as best she could. Her only hope was that Lord Brambly would show her mercy.
* * *
Sleep eventually came upon her, even though when she awoke she felt as though she had not slept at all. Her eyes were tired, her head ached, and all she wanted was to stay in her room and not speak to anyone. That was not allowed though. Harold wanted to show her off and see her enjoy the stately home he had prepared for her.
* * *
It was early in the
morning when the breakfast bell was sounded. Sarah was used to being awake at dawn, for she had always begun her chores early in the morning. On this occasion, however, she wanted to remain in bed.
* * *
“Lady Brambly! Breakfast is being served and Lord Flynn would like your company!” a voice called to her, after having knocked lightly on the door.
* * *
“I'm just coming,” she said, getting dressed, wiping the sleep from her eyes, hoping that she looked presentable.
* * *
Sarah opened the door to find Penny, the housekeeper, waiting for her. Penny was a plump woman with a stout frame. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her eyes searched the room. Not a smidgen of dust would escape her gaze. Sarah smiled at her.
* * *
“Come on now, my lady, Lord Flynn doesn't like it when people are late,” Penny said, ushering Sarah along quickly. She got the distinct impression that Penny didn't care about rank. She took care of the house, and would do anything to ensure it ran as Lord Flynn intended.
* * *
Sarah was shown out to the porch where a breakfast feast had been laid out. There were fruits, toast, and sweet pies, and Harold looked pleased sitting in the sun.
* * *
“Greetings, my beloved. I thought it would be a good idea to enjoy breakfast out in the open air. It is such a glorious day, one that I hope reflects the rest of our lives together,” he said, taking her hand and pressing his lips against it.
* * *
“It is a wonderful idea. The air is fresh and this food looks lovely,” Sarah said. Harold pulled out a chair for her. Catherine was sitting on the opposite side of the table, her plate filled with food, although by looking at her Sarah would never have guessed that Catherine was a hearty eater.
* * *
“Please, help yourself. You will be able to enjoy breakfasts like this every day. Tonight we shall eat dinner inside, as is proper, but I wanted you to get a taste of what life will be like once we are married. I hope that you will take this opportunity to explore the grounds and become accustomed to your new home. Catherine told me some of your concerns, and I hope that you will soon feel comfortable here.”
* * *
Sarah glanced at Catherine, who shrugged.
* * *
“I am sure I will. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I am already feeling much better after having spent the night here.”
* * *
“Good, good. I am glad, especially after the celebrations last night were marred by those awful bandits. I must apologize for my conduct. I fear I had a little too much to drink, and my judgment was slightly impaired. It was not the way a gentleman should behave towards his lady.”
* * *
“Think nothing of it, please Harold. I know it must have been a shock for you to think that you had been deceived.”
* * *
“Oh it was indeed, but I should never have let you think I would ever put my trust in the word of men like that over the word of such a lovely creature as yourself. I thought that I would put on a show, but perhaps it showed a lack of judgment on my part. But you are right, I do not appreciate people deceiving me. Those men were not the first to come here trying to get some reward. People like to prey on my gregarious nature, so I often have to be careful when people like them come to the door.”
* * *
“What will happen to them?”
* * *
“Oh, they will be dealt with, and will never try the same thing again. I cannot believe they would ever dare to besmirch the name of one as lovely as yourself. It makes me angry that there are such people in the world. If I were King I would not let that happen.”
* * *
“Harold, you always say there are so many things you would do if you were King, I do not think you would ever have time to actually live,” Catherine said.
* * *
“Unfortunately that is the state of the realm. Of course, far be it from me to speak out against our liege,” he said, turning to Sarah while he took a long sip of his drink, “but I do wonder if he is doing all he can do to make the realm a safe place for its citizens, especially with all those terrible men across the border.”
* * *
“You mean the Highlanders?” Sarah asked.
* * *
“Of course. We are in the most vulnerable position, up here near the border, and I fear that the King is far too occupied with threats from the South, from France and the like. Father is pleading with him to look closer to home, but it is easy to forget about us when they are so far to the south. Sometimes I feel as though I am the only thing standing between England and a full invasion.”
* * *
“Do you really think it is that bad?” Sarah asked, suddenly fearful for Rosemary. If she had been carried away by a Highlander there was no telling what terrible fate she could have suffered. It should have been her, Sarah thought. This was Rosemary's place. Sarah should have fought harder to make Rosemary stay. If anyone should have been captured by the barbarians then it should have been Sarah. Her life was less precious than Rosemary’s, and part of her duty as a handmaiden was to protect Rosemary from harm. She had failed in that, and had now taken Rosemary's place. It was difficult to hide the shame from her face.
* * *
“Harold is merely being dramatic. He wants a war so that he can prove himself in battle just like Father did,” Catherine said. “He wants to make his mark on the world.”
* * *
“That's not entirely true,” Harold said haughtily. “I do not want to alarm you, Rosemary, but the world is a dangerous place. I have been keeping an eye on the Highlanders just in case they threaten to come and raid us again. You know in the last war they often went into small villages to rape and pillage and kill the poor peasants. They are a dishonorable lot, too cowardly to face the might of the English armies in battle. I knew that it was only a matter of time before they returned with war in their hearts, and I fear that time is coming close.”
* * *
“What gives you that impression?” Sarah asked.
* * *
“Aside from reports from my scouting parties about large movements of Scottish forces, I also found one of them entering our lands! I could only imagine that he was trying to learn the strength of our forces. They are a treacherous lot, always sending spies down to try and find us at our weakest. Thankfully my vigilant guards spotted him, although I fear that there have been other men hiding in the forest. I dread to think what they have reported back.”
* * *
“Did you learn nothing from the one you had captured?”
* * *
“He remained quite tight-lipped apparently. He would not give up any information, not even with the threat of death. These Scottish Highlanders would rather die than speak. It is somewhat admirable really. Not that it would help them at all in the face of the full force of our armies. I have already sent word around to our allies to make sure they are ready in case we do need to go to war.”
* * *
Sarah looked alarmed. Harold noticed this, and chuckled a little.
* * *
“Do not worry, you are quite safe here. Even if they do attack you will not be on the front lines. I shall be, of course. It will be a glorious battle, one that will live on in legend. I'll make sure that the Highlanders never dare threaten our hallowed land again.”
* * *
“You are a brave man to want to fight them so readily,” Sarah said.
* * *
“One must be. One cannot sit back and let the enemy rest. A man must do his duty and fight. Protect the land, the country, and the people. That is the mark of a true ruler.”
* * *
Harold spoke with real passion, and for a moment Sarah allowed herself to feel attraction for him. In the morning light he looked as though he glowed, his skin was smooth and his hair coiffed nicely. He was a strong, tall man, with a slender frame. Catherine
had told Sarah that he enjoyed hunting and riding, and it was easy to see from his physique. But he was a noble, and she a commoner. It was not dignified for her to harbor such thoughts about him.
* * *
“Anyway, I believe that is enough talk of these matters. I hope that you will enjoy Catherine's company today. I am going out on a hunt. I shall be back for dinner, and I hope to talk with you more then,” he said, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief, then rising to his feet. He bowed to the two women, then took his leave.