by Adams, Alisa
"Aw… Did we wake ye up, sunshine?" Bruce asked tenderly. "Sorry, aboot that. We will try tae be a wee bit mair gentle the next time.”
James, standing in the background, was trying not to laugh as Bruce picked the blacksmith up with one hand.
"I think maybe ye should try bein' a bit less o' the black an' a bit mair o' the smith," Bruce advised him, "because I widnae bring my horse here if ye were the last blacksmith on earth!" His last remark was bellowed into Mulholland's ear and the man put his arms up, flinching.
Bruce went into what had been his house and saw that the formerly snow-white sheets on the bed in which Bridie had died were covered in soot. With a roar, he went out, picked up the unfortunate drunk and dumped his body in the horse trough. Then he fetched the three bottles of whiskey he had seen in the house and emptied them one after the other on the man's head.
When Bruce hauled him out again the man was cringing. "This is yer future Laird," he said, indicating James, "an' if he hears that ye're bevvied again he will make sure ye never become a faither!" His voice had risen to a roar again and the blacksmith nodded, terrified.
Bruce gave him one last venomous look and left. From that day Colin Mulholland never touched another drop of whiskey.
"Why wid ye want tae learn sich a trade, Jamie?" Bruce asked, "it's filthy an' tires ye oot somethin awfy."
"Honestly?" James looked away, blushing, "it's because of you, Bruce. I watched you working, and you looked so handsome and strong. Women love that. I thought that if I looked a bit more like you I might get a wife more easily, but there is more to it than that. I know that now." He sighed. "But strangely a Laird's son has not got the same amount of freedom as a tradesman or a laborer. Heather had the strength to break the rules, and I tried, but I haven't got her courage. That storm was the best thing that ever happened to me. It showed me that I could work with ordinary men - not only work with them but talk to them and listen to them too - and actually like them. I realized that there is nothing special about me just because I live in a big castle. I think it made me a better man."
"Well said, Jamie," Bruce's voice held a note of admiration, and he patted his brother-in-law on the back. "It's a good man who can admit his faults. God knaws, I hae plenty o' practice at it!"
They were both laughing as they met Heather. Bruce's face lit up as he ran towards her, grabbed her around the waist and lifted her, then whirled her around and around before setting her down and kissing her. She laughed and hugged him.
"Bruce, try to behave like a grown-up!" she scolded him playfully.
"Aye, Mistress Ferguson, I will," he said, trying not to laugh. "Are ye all right? Ye look a bit bothered aboot somethin'."
Heather frowned and linked her arm in Bruce's as they walked back up the hill. "A man just rode in looking for a midwife," she began in a troubled voice, "he was an upper-class sort, and when I told them they weren't here he seemed a bit annoyed. I offered him the services of the young midwife then he asked me how old she was—strange question! He asked when the midwife would be back and I told them I thought it would be in a week's time. He looked very annoyed by this time and I felt a bit scared. I offered to take a message but he refused to leave one, and said he'd come back."
"Whit wis his name?" Bruce asked.
"He didn't give me one, just rode away." Heather sighed. "Oh well, I expect we'll find out when he returns." She dropped Bruce's arm and took his hand instead, smiling. She loved the protected feeling that his big, strong, calloused hand gave her, yet it could caress her so gently too.
"A penny for yer thoughts, hen," he said with a mischievous grin on his face.
"Not in front of James," she whispered.
He gave her a scandalized look.
"Why Mistress Ferguson!" he exclaimed, "I am shocked, but I am so glad I married ye!"
Heather giggled. "Husband, I was never a brazen hussy till I met you!"
When Jessica hurried away she was heading back to the schoolroom where she taught the older children. Dougie was waiting for her there. When he opened his arms, she flung herself into them and he kissed her passionately until she was breathless and trembling. When they drew apart he held her head on his shoulder. They stood pressed together, saying nothing for a moment. She reached a hand up to rub his rough cheek and he kissed her hair.
"I cannae wait tae make ye my wife," he whispered.
"I hope it won't be too long," she murmured, "I long to hold a babe in my arms."
He hugged her even more tightly. "Me too, sweetheart," he said fervently.
They went through to the staff room where there was a couch and Dougie sat down while Jessica made them tea. They chatted about their doings since they had last been together over a week before and they sounded like an old married couple. Jessica was laughing at something Dougie had said when they heard the outside door opening, then the hubbub of a few assorted voices. Jessica recognized them at once.
"Come in, you lot!" she shouted.
When Heather, James, and Bruce came in Dougie was sitting with his arm around Jessica's shoulders. They both smiled as they came in and Jessica jumped up to shake hands with Bruce.
"Congratulations, Mr. Newlywed!" she said joyfully, "may I wish you both every happiness! Have you heard my news—or our news?" She held out her arm to indicate Dougie. "We are engaged to be married!"
James felt as though a stone had just plunged into his stomach and for a moment he could not move. Then he recovered himself enough to pin a smile on his face. "Well done, Mr. McFarlane!" He extended his hand. "I wish you many happy years ahead. And Jessica, every happiness!"
"We came to show the school to Bruce," Heather explained, "but had we known you were in here—"
Jessica laughed. "Nae harm done!" She winked at Bruce, who used the expression habitually. "Now, I have just enough cups and saucers for tea, will you join us?"
They had enough cups, but not enough chairs so Bruce, who was biggest and therefore took up the most room, sat on the floor. Jessica explained all about their whirlwind courtship while Dougie sat silently, not because he wanted to, but because he simply could not get a word in edgeways.
At last Jessica's flow of words ran out, Dougie asked, "Can I speak now, woman?"
Jessica nodded her head, smiling mischievously.
"Thank ye. I am jist waitin' tae see if we can get a position nearer here to be close to my family an' Jessica." His meaning was quite clear as he looked hopefully at Heather.
"I can ask, of course," she said carefully, "but Dougie, I am very out of favor at the moment. So is James."
James was trying not to look at Jessica, with her shining eyes and the look of adoration she had for Dougie. He felt sick with jealousy, and yet he had no right to. According to societal norms she had done the right thing and was engaged to a man in her own stratum, and suddenly James did not want to be a Laird. All he wanted was to live in relative comfort - not poverty - among genuine, real, honest people like these ones.
"Will you excuse me?" he asked, standing up. "I have some work to do—accounts for Father. Congratulations again, you two."
He strode out of the room before he made a fool of himself because as soon as he was out in the open-air tears began to rain down his cheeks. Tears for what might have been.
39
Plans
The Laird had been doing a lot of thinking. Where had he gone wrong? He had tried to make Heather marry a man of his choosing and she had gone along with it a little way before rebelling now he was seeing the same signs in James. What had he done to deserve this? Had he been too hard on her—or had he gone the wrong way and indulged her too much? Now, even Katrine was becoming disobedient or perhaps she always had been. She got her own way most of the time after all.
Perhaps he should just let fate take its course. He had disinherited Heather and he could do the same to James, who had far more to lose, but that would leave the castle and lands in the hands of a distant cousin, a corpulent, disagreeable man
whom Gordon disliked intensely. If only Heather and James would do as they were told! He did not hear the knock at the door at first, but when James knocked a second time, he bade him enter.
"Father," James said dully, "how are you?"
"To be truthful, James," Gordon answered, "I have been better."
James sighed. "So, have I, Father," he replied.
"Have you had your dram today?" Gordon asked him, holding up the whiskey decanter.
"No," James answered, "and I don't want one."
Gordon laughed. "That is unheard of!" The Laird laughed, but James did not. "What's wrong, son?" he asked, suddenly concerned.
"Jessica is getting married," he said heavily, "I don't expect you to understand, Father, but I love her."
Gordon McVey sighed. Well, at least if she is married she will be out of the way, he thought. "Son," he said gently, "these things happen. I had my heart broken before I met your mother and I thought I might never recover, but I did."
James thought about that for a moment. "You're right, Father, but it's easier said than done. I think I may go away somewhere for a while soon. Heather mentioned something about having her marriage being blessed in the church so that the whole of Invergar could be there. I will wait for that."
"Where will you go?" Gordon asked anxiously.
"Somewhere where nobody knows me," James replied, "a big city—maybe the Lowlands, Glasgow, or Edinburgh. They say Edinburgh is very beautiful. Maybe I will find a bride there."
"You two have made life very difficult for yourselves," Gordon grumbled, "why can you not do as everyone else does instead of being rebels?" He threw back his whiskey and glared at James.
"Heather has not made life hard for herself, Father," James said evenly, "she has married the man she loves, and I hope I can marry the woman I love and have children. I don't need to make you a grandfather, but I do need to make myself a husband and a father—the best I can be!" Then he got up and walked out. Glasgow and Edinburgh were looking more and more attractive by the moment.
Heather went to sleep that night in the bed where she had slept for many years alone, with someone else beside her for the first time. When Bruce laid his head on the soft white pillow she leaned on her elbow and looked at him lovingly.
"I could look at you all day," she said huskily, "I can't believe you're mine."
Bruce looked into Heather's deep brown eyes and tears came to his eyes. "Ye're a Laird's daughter," he said incredulously, "you could have had any fella ye wanted—I am the lucky ane, Heather my love."
"Do you think anyone else is as happy as we are?" she asked.
Bruce shook his head, then pulled her down for a long, lingering kiss that turned into something much more passionate. He pulled her over so that she was lying on top of him, then he slowly stripped off her clothing, kissing her breasts as he did so, and soon they were lost in each other, then there was no more noise but the soft breathing and murmuring of lovemaking, except when Bruce, then Heather, cried out in ecstasy. They fell asleep, their bodies naked and entwined, and Heather awoke in the morning with Bruce curled around her protectively. It was bliss.
Senga and Lily arrived back from Aberdeen a few days later on a covered farm cart, carrying some bolts of brightly colored cotton and linen and a large basket of oranges, which were very hard to find in the North of Scotland. As well as that they had a couple of pounds of tablet, a hard fudge much beloved of every Scottish child.
Lady Katrine had paid for everything as a treat for them. She was becoming more and more involved in the concerns of the life of the village, and the affection was being returned.
The fabric was being used for curtains in the schoolroom, and the village seamstress Maria had been commissioned to make them. Lady Katrine was beginning to buy other things for the school too, although she was never able to buy everything it needed.
When she got out of bed that morning Heather looked back at her sleeping husband who was curled up in bed in a fetal position as if to keep himself warm. She drew the blankets that he had kicked off over him again, kissed him on the cheek, and went out. After a lively breakfast with her mother and James at which the Laird was conspicuous by his absence, she went to visit Lily and Senga, who had arrived the previous day.
There were always babies being born in the village but on this day, there was a hiatus, and the two ladies had time to unpack and tidy themselves up a bit. A servant came from the castle and collected the goods the sisters had brought back just as Heather got there. He bowed to her quickly, loaded the goods onto the cart and left. Senga came out to meet her, beaming.
"Milady!" she cried delightedly, giving a slight curtsey. "It's sae good tae see ye!"
Heather laughed. "Will you stop curtseying?" she begged. "I am one of you now. I married the blacksmith!"
"We were a' astonished." Senga shook her head in total amazement. "When Lily first telt me I thought she wis jokin'! When I realized she wisnae ye could hae knocked me doon wi' a feather."
"I think it took a lot of people by surprise," Heather conceded, "we had to elope. We couldn't think of anything else to do—my father would have stopped us for sure. He might even have driven Bruce away, and I love him so much that I couldn't bear to be without him."
"I remember when you two hated each other." Senga laughed.
Just then, Lily came in. "Milady! It'd sae good tae see ye or should I say, Mistress Ferguson?" She sat down opposite Heather. "Congratulations on yer marriage—ye couldnae hae picked a finer man."
"I know, I love him with all my heart, but…" She sighed. "My father hasn't forgiven me yet."
Senga handed her a cup of tea. "So, milady, can we help ye, or is this jist a social visit?" she asked.
"Yes," Heather said sternly, "you can help me by not calling me 'milady' and not curtseying. My name is Heather or Mistress Ferguson."
The two sisters nodded and smiled. "If ye wish, Heather," Senga said mildly.
"This is not entirely a social visit," Heather said, "I wanted to tell you that someone; a man will be coming to see you."
"Who, hen?" Lily asked quizzically.
"He rode into the valley the day after you left," Heather said, "and asked for you personally. I would say that he was in his mid-fifties at least, but very trim and handsome. He had dark hair with gray in it and looked tall, though I could not say for sure because he didn't get off his horse."
"Whit wis his name, lass?" Senga asked.
"He didn't say," Heather replied, "just asked when you would be back, so I told him."
The two sisters looked at each other. This was obviously shocking news.
"D'ye think it's him?" Senga asked her sister.
"Whit else did he say, hen?" Lily's voice was trembling slightly.
"Well, I offered the services of your apprentice and he asked me how old she was. When I told him he was quite annoyed. Do you understand why he asked that?"
"Heather," Senga said, "we will tell ye whit is in oor minds when we see this fella. Until then, can ye keep it tae yersel'?"
Heather was alarmed. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked anxiously.
"No' at the moment, lass," Lily said, wringing her hands. "I dinnae want tae be rude, but will ye leave us, please?"
"Of course." Heather stood up. "Call me if you need anything and I will say nothing."
"Especially no' tae Bruce," Lily pleaded.
"But—" Heather began.
"Please." Lily's face was strained and white. Heather nodded and left. She made her way back up to the castle again, wondering what was going on. As she got halfway up the hill, she saw the big brown horse with its dark rider in the distance. She had a strange feeling of foreboding. Suddenly, she knew that this concerned her husband, and anything that concerned Bruce concerned her too. She wished that she had someone - anyone - to confide in.
40
The Stranger Returns
Little had changed in Invergar since the man had been there last. He looked d
own the valley with the castle towering over it on one side and the church, slightly lower, on the other. In the valley was the village itself and then the lively river tumbling and racing over rocks on its way to the sea.
It was a sleepy, peaceful little place that looked as if it had lain untouched for years. He noticed the new school and frowned. He had always wanted to go to school like ordinary boys but had never been allowed to, having been subject to the attentions of a succession of tutors. in consequence, he had had a very lonely childhood.
He looked around himself again to see if he could find anyone of whom he could ask directions and saw a dark man walking along the road in the direction of the village.
"Excuse me!" he called.
The man turned and looked up, then walked over to the rider.
"Can I help ye?" he asked courteously.
Absently, he stroked the horse's muzzle and the great beast whickered softly. "Betsy doesn't like anyone," the man said in amazement, "you have a magic touch."
Bruce smiled. "Are ye lost?" he asked.
"No, I'm looking for two sisters," the stranger answered, "the midwives, Senga and Lily."
"They live in Lily's hoose, jist ower there," Bruce pointed to the little-thatched cottage at the bottom of the road.
"Thank you," the stranger said.
Bruce waved and walked away.
The man rode down the hill and dismounted outside the midwives' cottage. He was raising his hand to knock on the door when it was opened suddenly. Lily stood there, ashen-faced.
"Laird Sinclair, " she said with a curtsey. "Whit a surprise!"
"How are you, Lily?" he asked courteously, "may I sit down?"
"Of course," she answered.
Just then, Senga came in, carrying peat for the fire. She curtsied and looked at the Laird warily.