Shared by the Highlanders

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by Ashe Barker


  Agnes too knows her stuff, and has made a particular study of Elspeth. “I was a Mackenzie too, and married into the Blairs. As she did.”

  “You say all seven of Elspeth’s children survived. What did they go on to do? We know about wee Iain…”

  Agnes regards Will with curiosity. “Wee Iain? He was a giant, over six feet tall. There’s a portrait of him in the main hall downstairs.”

  I’m quick to rush in, in an attempt to cover Will’s slip. “Really? Oh. I’d like to see that. We must have missed it when we looked round.” I’m also interested to see if I can recognise the six-foot-tall adult Iain from the small boy I last saw dripping his way across that same hall.

  “Third from the end, right hand side. Mind, he almost came to a sticky end. Drowned in the loch when he was but a baby.”

  “What?” We all turn to gape at Agnes.

  Will is the first to collect his wits. “Drowned in the loch? But you said…”

  “I said almost. He was dragged lifeless from the water by a witch who breathed his life back into him, or so the story goes.”

  “A witch?” Even now the word makes my heart hammer in my chest.

  “Aye, so they said. More likely some sort of healer. It would have been that mouth-to-mouth thing they do nowadays, but most back then had no idea. If it happened at all. Elspeth wrote about it though, in her journal.”

  “She kept a journal?” Robbie has paused in pulling on his jacket.

  “Aye. I told you that earlier.”

  It’s true, she did. But we never expected it to include the story of wee Iain’s rescue from the loch, even less my own part in that.

  “Would it be possible to see the journal?” Will too has put down his coat. I guess we’ll be staying a bit longer then.

  “Aye, I suppose so. It’s in here somewhere. Would you like more tea while I go look for it?”

  We assure her we’re fine, and resume our seats.

  It’s some thirty minutes later when Agnes shuffles back into the room, this time carrying a leather-bound ledger-style book. Whilst its condition is good, it looks quite ancient. She’s wearing white muslin gloves, and tosses a second pair onto the low table in front of us.

  “The journal is hundreds of years old, and fragile. Only one of you can touch it, and you have to wear those. I’ve found the page for you though.”

  Will reaches for the gloves. Neither of us challenges him. Agnes lays the book down on the table, her touch reverent as she strokes the leather cover.

  “This is usually kept locked up, in the dark to help preserve it. No choice about that, but it’s a pity. It’s good it should come out from time to time. The words were put there to be read. Here’s where Elspeth describes what happened that day.” Agnes points a gnarled finger at a spot halfway down the page. We all lean forward to look.

  I’m no wiser for the effort. Elspeth’s handwriting is neat enough, but small and spidery, the ink darkening and fading as she must have dipped her quill again and again. It’s in an old-fashioned looking script, and I struggle to pick out any of the words. Will is scanning the closely written lines fast though, clearly more at home with it. Robbie too seems to be able to make out what she wrote.

  “What does it say?” I whisper. “Can you read it to me?”

  Will glances at me. “Aye, lass. I’ll try.” He leans over the yellowing parchment and starts to read.

  “This is dated the seventeenth day of April, fifteen sixty-six.” He looks up at us both. “Does that sound about right?”

  If Agnes considers the question odd she says nothing. We just look at each other, and both Robbie and I nod.

  Will continues. “Today was a momentous day, yet quite awful too. My baby died, drowned in the loch. But my bonny bairn was restored to me, and in a most wondrous manner.” He pauses, then resumes Elspeth’s account.

  “Iain has been showing an uncommon interest in fishing with his brothers. I have forbidden it as he cannot yet swim. However, he became separated from the rest of the household today and went alone to the water. He fell into the depths, and would have been lost forever but for the swift actions of a stranger who sought shelter here this last night with two friends from afore my marriage. She sped to the place he sank, flew across the surface of the loch to reach him, then dived repeatedly until he was found. My poor wee boy was lifeless though as he was carried ashore, and I knew, despite the heroic efforts of my dear friends, that he was lost. But a miracle was wrought before our eyes as the woman knelt beside his body, kissed him, and he breathed again.

  Some will call it sorcery. Indeed, superstitious villagers already clamour at my gates. I call it a precious gift, the life of my son. I am in this lady’s debt, and ever will be.”

  Will stops and looks to me, then Robbie. Elspeth’s version of events is accurate enough, as viewed from her perspective. She wouldn’t have ever seen a racing dive before and to her it may have resembled flight. Neither, probably, had she witnessed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and the effect can be dramatic. If it goes well, which it did for Iain.

  “So, there you have it. Elspeth didn’t denounce her boy’s rescuer, but the local population did. They called it witchcraft and drove the visitors from Glen Blair.” Agnes is shaking her head, perhaps at the ignorance of the late-medieval mind. “Elspeth was just glad to have her child back.”

  “Of course,” I murmur. “But it wasn’t such a big deal. Not really.”

  “Och, I know we can explain what happened nowadays. But they couldn’t, had never seen the like. Even Elspeth wasn’t sure if it was witchcraft or not, but she set aside her doubts in her gratitude. And she rewarded the so-called witch handsomely. Gave her the Mackenzie diamonds.”

  “No, she didn’t.” On this point I am certain. Without any shadow of a doubt I would have remembered that bit.

  Agnes’ eyes narrow at me. Clearly she does not appreciate being contradicted on her pet subject. “Oh, yes. It’s there in the journal, in the next entry. Turn the page, lad, and read on.”

  Bemused but intrigued too, as we all are, Will does as instructed. He smoothes out the parchment on the new page, and continues.

  “My dear friends have departed, fleeing this place in fear for their lives. I know not where they are bound, but do not expect to see them here again. ‘Tis a pity for I would love to welcome them back, but it would not be safe. I had barely a chance to offer my thanks and to take my leave before they fled. I owe them more than I could hope to repay, but have gone some way to meeting my debt. I gifted a gown to my son’s saviour, my finest red velvet. I watched as she rode from here wearing it, little knowing what is secreted in the hem. The Mackenzie jewels were mine. Now they are hers. It is little enough by way of payment, but I give them gladly. They were the most precious thing I have in this life, save my blessed boys.”

  The End

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  More Stormy Night Books by Ashe Barker

  Faith

  Following her husband’s sudden, tragic death, Faith is left widowed after only six months of marriage. She wallows in grief until a neighbour, Ewan, reaches out to her. Although his work takes him away a great deal, Ewan slowly becomes Faith’s rock, helping her heal and encouraging her as she struggles to rebuild her life. As time passes, Faith grows more and more attracted to Ewan, but one thing holds her back: he is a dom, and she i
s not ready to be a sub.

  Though the idea of kneeling naked at Ewan’s feet excites her in a way she can’t fully understand, Faith fears that his sexual appetites would prove too much for her. But when he discovers that she has been exploring the lifestyle without his knowledge and hiding her activities from him, Ewan issues an ultimatum: either she becomes his submissive, or they go their separate ways. This is just the push Faith needs, and in the end her decision is not a difficult one.

  Ewan quickly proves to be a firm, commanding lover who is more than capable of mastering her completely. He challenges Faith’s boundaries and introduces her to a level of sensuality she never dreamed she could experience, and Faith soon finds herself at peace in a way she has not felt in years. But when fate takes another turn and she learns the truth about her husband’s death, can Faith count on Ewan to be by her side as she adjusts to a new reality yet again?

  The Widow is Mine (originally sold as part of The Conquered Brides, a multi-author collection)

  Since her husband’s untimely passing, Lady Natalia has resigned herself to a quiet life as a young widow and perhaps one day as a nun. But when her adopted home is conquered by the enemy, her world is turned upside down. After he rescues her from the chaos of Hohenzollern’s fall, Duke Stefan of Richtenholst cannot imagine allowing Natalia to languish behind the walls of a convent. The duke takes Natalia home as his wife, and he quickly proves himself ready to compel her obedience when it is necessary, but can he ever truly make her his own?

  Spirit

  When Matthew Logan offers a homeless young woman a bed for a few nights, he expects the girl to eat, sleep, recover from the flu, and then move on. Instead, in no time at all eighteen-year-old Beth Harte has captured his affections completely. Though Matt wants only to protect her and has no intention of sleeping with her, Beth has other ideas, and she proves to be very persuasive.

  But after Beth is attacked by a friend of Matt’s and subsequently learns for the first time that Matt is an experienced dominant, she is unable to separate the man she is growing to care about from her hateful memories of previous exploitation. Confused and frightened, she runs away.

  Almost six years pass before Matt sees Beth again, and in that time his vulnerable little waif has reinvented herself as an artist. Now she has a stunning proposition for him and his environmental engineering company: to collaborate on a project fusing art and science to promote one of the most prestigious sporting events in the world. But when Matt demands to know what went wrong before, she tells him the truth, both about her childhood and about his friend’s actions.

  Matt is determined to make Beth’s abusers pay for their crimes, but he’s also not about to let her run away from him again. Can Beth bring herself to trust Matt despite her fears and give him the chance to love her and show her the pleasures of being his submissive, or will the wounds of her past keep her from trusting anyone ever again?

  Ashe Barker Links

  You can find author interviews, excerpts of upcoming books, and general thoughts from Ashe Barker via her blog, her Twitter and Facebook pages, and her Amazon and Goodreads profiles, using the following links:

  http://www.ashebarker.com/

  https://twitter.com/ashebarker

  https://www.facebook.com/ashe.barker.9

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7143377.Ashe_Barker

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  More Stormy Night Books by Ashe Barker

  Ashe Barker Links

 

 

 


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