Drew_A Historical Scottish Romance Novel_Highlanders Warriors Clan McClair

by Barbara Bard

  * * *

  “Do you see what I mean? Always talking about war,” Catherine said as soon as Harold had left. She took a sip of her drink and leaned back, letting the sunlight pour over her skin. “I do not envy you marrying him. You will have to put up with his lectures about military strategy for the rest of your life.”

  * * *

  “It will be a price worth paying to be married to such an impressive man,” Sarah said.

  * * *

  “Ah, then you have already discovered the secret of keeping a man happy. Always flatter him, and pretend that what he speaks of is the greatest, most brilliant thing in the world.”

  * * *

  Sarah smiled demurely. She ate until she was full, and felt guilty that there was so much food left over.

  * * *

  “Is it always like this?” she asked.

  * * *

  “Oh yes, there's a plentiful supply of everything,” Catherine said. The two of them rose from the table. As soon as they left Sarah noticed the servants swarming out of the dark corners of the room, standing there as though they were invisible. Sarah smiled at some of them and paused for a moment, almost as though she was going to speak to them, before she remembered that she wasn't one of them anymore.

  * * *

  “Are you coming?” Catherine asked. Sarah followed her new friend inside into the shade.

  * * *

  “I thought today we could wander around the gardens and I could show you everything this house has to offer,” Catherine said. “Then I was thinking that tomorrow we could take a ride into town and I could show you some of the shops. Harold has credit with nearly everyone in town and we could find a nice new gown for you to wear. I'm sure Harold would like seeing you in a dress that you've picked out.”

  * * *

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Sarah said, although she didn't know how she could say no to this girl. Catherine seemed as though she knew her own mind, and that she was used to getting her own way.

  * * *

  Linking her arm in with Sarah's, Catherine stepped outside and led Sarah around the house. The day was beautiful. Birds sang brightly, and occasionally they heard the fluttering of wings. Catherine first took her out to the wide gardens. The fragrant smell of flowers greeted their noses, and the burst of vibrant color was a feast to their eyes.

  * * *

  “This reminds me of the woods near my home. I used to wander through them almost every day, especially in the summer.”

  * * *

  “Well now you get to enjoy something like them right in your own home. And you could have the gardeners plant anything you want. Harold can get anything. I know I can tease him sometimes, but he only wants the best for you. He'll do anything to make you happy.”

  * * *

  “That's very sweet of him.”

  * * *

  “And you'll do the same for him, won't you?” Catherine asked.

  * * *

  “I...I will try my best, of course.”

  * * *

  “Good, because he deserves the best,” Catherine said. “He's the best brother I could ever have had, and I only want him to be happy.”

  * * *

  “I want the same,” Sarah found herself saying. There was something about Catherine's tone she found unsettling, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. The two of them continued walking around the gardens and passed a few of the staff on the way. They were trimming hedges and making sure the gardens looked beautiful. Catherine and Sarah smiled at them, but didn't say anything.

  * * *

  Their stroll took them to a fountain. It was an ornate sculpture which culminated in the head of a dragon. All around its serpentine body were little cherubs, holding bows and arrows.

  * * *

  “They're all trying to find their targets for love,” Catherine said, sitting on the edge. She dipped her hand in the water. Sarah did the same and found it surprisingly cool. The foamy water gushed out of the dragon's mouth and filled the fountain. The sun beat down on them. Catherine held an umbrella aloft over their heads, providing them with some shade.

  * * *

  “Can I confess something to you, Sarah? We are friends, aren't we?”

  * * *

  “Of course we are, at least, I'd like to think so.”

  * * *

  “That pleases me so much. There are some times when I regret being born into nobility.”

  * * *

  “What do you mean?”

  * * *

  “I know that it is strange to say so, but I don't feel as though my life is my own. I just know that I am not going to be allowed to love truly. Father is going to find someone for me and I won't be as fortunate as you to find someone like Harold. Sometimes I feel as though the servants have it all so easy. They have none of the pressures of life like we do.”

  * * *

  Sarah had to bite her tongue, not wanting to correct Catherine and reveal her true nature. Still, Rosemary had always been thoughtful and compassionate when it came to the servants. Those who served on the Brambly estate were treated as people, with respect and dignity.

  * * *

  “I'm sure they have their own problems as well, and I'd imagine that almost all of them would want to trade places with you. I would think that your father would choose the best marriage for you as well. It may not be who you would choose yourself, but you may find that your father knows you better than you think.”

  * * *

  “I would rather Harold choose for me. I don't even think my father knows when my birthday is. I am envious that you enjoy such a close relationship with your father. Oh, I had Penny send up some writing implements to your chamber as well.”

  * * *

  “Thank you so much,” Sarah said.

  * * *

  “I have never written a letter. I don't have anyone to write one to,” Catherine said. All of a sudden Sarah was filled with pity for the young girl. She must have lived a sheltered life, without even parents to offer her comfort.

  * * *

  “You had no friends growing up?”

  * * *

  “I have relatives, cousins and the like, but I was never very close with them. The only person I would call a friend is Harold, and I have always been in the same place as him so I have not needed to send a letter. I suppose I could send one to Father, although I doubt very much if he would read it.”

  * * *

  “Sometimes writing a letter is enough without having to send it,” Sarah said.

  * * *

  “Perhaps, but at least I now have you as a true friend. I know that you are getting married to Harold and he is the one who should feel blessed, but I feel equally as blessed. There are times when I have come to sit at this fountain and wished for a friend just like me, one who can understand all I have been through. Sometimes I have wished for a friend more than I have wished for a husband, isn't that funny? And now I finally have one.”

  * * *

  “And I have one too,” Sarah said. Catherine wrapped her arms around her and squeezed tightly. Perhaps it had been a mistake to not tell the truth from the beginning. The longer Sarah kept up this pretense the more it was going to hurt those around her, and the harsher the punishment was likely to be.

  4

  Drew entered the castle and was instantly hit with a fervent cacophony of noise. Even though his conversation with Deirdre weighed heavily on his mind, it was impossible to not smile at the sight of the revelry. For too long in the twilight of his father's reign, the banquet hall had been silent, its cavernous walls filled with the echoes of lonely footsteps. That was a stark contrast to the sight that was presented before Drew's eyes.

  * * *

  The tables were filled with food. Meat and vegetables and mugs of ale were placed on the tables, although many of the mugs were being held up in the air. The clans had all mixed together, some were singing, some were telling bawdy jokes, others were challengin
g each other to arm wrestles.

  * * *

  The mood was buoyant as they all enjoyed the company of each other. Some rivalries were still strong, but these people avoided each other, and merely passed the occasional glare across the room. Drew assumed it wouldn't be long until a fight broke out however; at least one usually did on these occasions.

  * * *

  Drew was proud of his people for never allowing death and hardship to tie them down. It wasn't only Aife who had died, but also Gall. The news of the death of Ciaran's son had hit all of them hard, but the mourning period was not going to override the joys of a feast.

  * * *

  Drew walked into the hall and waved to a few others, greeting more as they cheered his arrival. He walked to the head table where Blair rose and wrapped a strong arm around Drew's neck. His breath was heavy with the stench of alcohol.

  * * *

  “Brother! I was wondering when ye were going tae show up,” he said.

  * * *

  “I haven't missed too much, have I?”

  * * *

  “Nay, nay, the party is just getting started!” Blair yelled in his deep brogue. His words were met with a loud cheer. He thrust a mug of ale into Drew's hand and gestured for him to sit down. Drew looked beyond his brother to see Rosemary sitting there. The English woman was inscrutable. Drew did not know what to make of her. She and Fianna were the only ones who were not throwing themselves into the jovial mood.

  * * *

  Drew set the mug down and picked up a chicken leg, tearing at it with his teeth. The meat was succulent and tender. The juice ran down his jowls, satisfyingly so. There were few greater pleasures in life than a good feast, and Drew's smile was genuine.

  * * *

  “We must speak later,” Drew said, leaning into his brother.

  * * *

  “I am sure we will, but there is plenty of time for that later,” Blair said.

  * * *

  “I just want tae make sure that ye remain clear-headed. There are some serious matters.”

  * * *

  “I can't promise you that!” Blair said, laughing heartily. Drew arched his eyebrows and tucked into his meal. Blair seemed to be in good spirits, which was pleasing to see. Drew couldn't stop staring at Rosemary though. There were a few moments when she caught him staring at her and met his eyes with a steely gaze. Drew often turned away immediately. This happened four or five times, until Rosemary eventually leaned over to talk to Drew. Blair had leaped across the table to join in an arm wrestle, leaving Rosemary and Drew by themselves.

  * * *

  “Do you have a problem with me?” Rosemary asked.

  * * *

  Drew wasn't entirely sure how to answer that.

  * * *

  “It's just that you keep looking at me. If you have something to say to me, I'd prefer that you say it,” she said.

  * * *

  “I was just wondering if this is what ye imagined life with Blair would be like. Ye don't seem like you're enjoying the feast,” Drew said, trying to keep his words guarded just in case the English rose had a nefarious purpose.

  * * *

  “I am merely trying to adjust. Life wasn't like this in my home. It's...very noisy. It's fun though. I'm just trying to keep track of who everyone is.”

  * * *

  “In truth we hae not had one of these feasts for a long time. I find myself having tae adjust as well. I think we're the only ones though. Blair seems tae have taken tae it quite naturally.”

  * * *

  “I know. It's not a side of him I'm used to seeing,” she said.

  * * *

  “Well lassie, I think you'll find that Blair is a complicated fella, he always was since he was a bairn. We may not be so simple as ye might think,” Drew said in a soft burr. Rosemary turned up her nose.

  * * *

  “I never believed Blair was a simple man, but he seems to have changed recently. I suppose being the leader of a clan would do that to someone.”

  * * *

  “Aye, ye cannae have him all to yourself now. Let me ask ye a question now, hae ye given any thought to the future? What's your plan here, lassie? Do ye want to go home or are ye happy staying wi' us for the foreseeable future?”

  * * *

  Rosemary shifted in her chair, looking around the room at the loud Highlanders. Drew imagined it must have been quite the change for her. He doubted that English people knew how to throw feasts like this. They were all so proper and prim.

  * * *

  “If I returned home now I would not be safe. It's better if I stay here. Besides, I love Blair. I do not want to be away from him. I know that may be difficult for you to understand, but when I speak of my feelings for your brother I speak the truth. I know it is not usual for two people like us to find each other and share the same feelings. I cannot speak to why the fates would want such a romance to take place, but all I know is that I want to be true to the feelings in my heart.”

  * * *

  “Aye, well, ye two being true could bring about another war” Drew said, shaking his head. He took a long gulp of ale and set the heavy mug down on the table. “I don't blame ye or Blair, not really, but I feel like the two of ye hae'n't really given much thought to the rest of us. Look around ye, do ye really want these people tae go tae war?”

  * * *

  “No, no I don't. Frankly I don't know why everyone is thinking that war is inevitable. I'd much rather the English and the Highlanders left each other alone.”

  * * *

  “What a world that would be,” Drew said wistfully.

  * * *

  “I know that you and I do not have much in common, but I hope that we are able to find a way to be civil with each other. I have no plans to leave, and I love Blair fiercely. I will not be pushed aside.”

  * * *

  “I hae no claims on yer life, lassie. Frankly I hae better things to do wi' me time. But I will be keepin' a close eye on ye, just tae make sure ye don't make a mess o' things. Blair sometimes does nae know what he's getting' hi'self in for. Ye seem like a fine lassie tae me, it's just the way things hae happened that I have a problem with. I always worry that somewhere there's some lord who be missing ye, and if they come tae find ye what will they think? Will they believe that ye fell in love with a Highlander?”

  * * *

  “I'll make them believe it,” Rosemary said, her face set in determination. But then she looked away, and gazed into the distance. Drew wondered what thoughts passed through her mind. Drew leaned back and worked his way through a chicken leg, picking the gristle from his teeth. It was good to see the feasting hall being occupied with such a grand occasion, but it was a shame his father could not be here. He watched Blair move through the crowd, speaking with the other clan leaders, engaging them in conversation and arm wrestles. In these moments Drew felt glad that Blair was the laird rather than him, as he was not used to being so gregarious.

  * * *

  Suddenly, a low drone began. Drew looked up to find people from the Pressley clan singing, waving their ales up in the air. Their honeyed tones were melodious and they caught the attention of everyone in attendance. Blair had been engaged in another arm wrestle. He stopped mid-bout and stood up, looking in rapture at the singers. The song spread through the hall, with all the Highlanders standing up and joining in. Drew moved to his feet, adding his deep voice to the song. His heart beat with pride as the old familiar song took hold of them in its ethereal grip. He looked around and found them united as brothers, all sharing the same history, the same culture. The song was sung loudly and strongly, with real fervor from everyone in attendance, aside from Rosemary. The English girl sat there, looking so small among the burly Highlanders, with a puzzled look on her face. In a way Drew pitied her, for she was alone in a strange land.

  * * *

  A few of the Highlanders began weeping, so moved were they by the song. The words swirled around their hearts and souls, eventually
fading into nothing but a wisp as they reached the end of the song. Silence lingered around them as they thought about those they had lost over the years. A somber mood came across them all, replacing the jovial mood that had been present all through the feast.