by Fiona Faris
“She is right Lucas, Amelia should go. Perhaps if we send her with one of our men, you would be less worried?”
“I’d happily go with Lady Amelia. The clan kens me, and I can keep her safe. Plus, I help Lady Ella with herbs and such all th’ time. I ken what she may need.” Amelia looked at the eagerness in Derek’s eyes and was grateful. He may be young, but he was honorable.
“If the clan is close enough to send for help, surely no harm would come to me there, they are allies yes? And with Derek along with me, we could send word if aid was needed.”
“Yes, but our relationship with the Cabduh is tenuous at best, an’ what if ye get sick?” She noticed the furrow in his brow and didn’t doubt that Lucas struggled with the idea of letting her go, but when Lucas said Cabduh, it was as if fate had finally smiled upon Amelia. She was going to go. Nothing was going to stop her.
“I won’t get sick. I’m going.”
Chapter Nine
One day’s ride was all it took to transport Amelia to another world, one filled with decay and sorrow. That was what greeted her and Derek when they approached Cabduh Keep. Gavin had warned her not all clans lived as well as the MacGilles, but she had thought he was only trying to scare her off. However, taking one look at the dilapidated castle in front of them, she was afraid she hadn’t taken him seriously enough. There was not a soul in sight. Odd, she thought for the time of day.
The walls were unguarded and crumbling. There was no gate to protect against invaders. The grounds looked untended, brown and dry. The few livestock that wandered around the outside of the keep were thin and looked malnourished. Amelia subconsciously brought her hand to her mouth, in sad shock. How could people live such a way? She had seen poverty, mainly in larger towns and cities like Edinburgh and Perth, but the sight in front of her was so much worse than any she had seen.
“It’s worse on th’ inside milady,” Derek said, pulling up his horse beside hers. “They are a sad lot. Some say a bit touched as well.”
“Well, they need our help, we best not keep them waiting.”
“Aye, milady,” She set herself taller in her saddle, and with what she hoped looked to the lad like determination and not fear, she rode forward.
As they entered the grounds of the castle, Amelia thought it strange that they were immediately stopped by two large men in traditional plaid. They must have been hidden to avoid being seen from the road.
“Stop! Who goes?” The larger of the two came forward as Amelia struggled to stop her horse.
“Och! We are friends, come from Cadney at th’ request of yer laird!” Derek hollered from behind her. “I come with a healer!”
The men looked from Amelia toward a breathless Derek and then to each other while making their decision.
“A healer ye say, from Cadney?” The smaller one addressed Derek, his sword still drawn. Amelia could tell by the look of his eyes the man was tired, and possibly fighting illness himself.
“Aye, so stop yer fooling’ an’ take us tae th’ Laird!” he responded. The men nodded to each other and lowered their weapons. They moved away from Amelia and Derek, heading toward the keep. Amelia relaxed, but only slightly as then, men motioned for them to follow.
* * *
“Yer English,” Laird Cabduh said to Amelia for the fourth time since they were shown into the keep. “I doona trust yer kind, lass.” In the last two hours inside the castle walls, she had yet to see anyone aside from the Laird and the two guards that escorted them inside, and Amelia was growing frustrated.
“My laird, Lady MacGille, is my sister, and we are indeed English, yet we are not your enemy.” They met the Laird in what she assumed was the castle’s library or study, except for a surprising lack of books or furniture.
“Why should I let ye look in on any of my people, least of all my dear wife?” The Laird was not as tall as Lucas or Gavin, nor as young, but he looked fit. Despite his gray beard that Amelia thought was a touch too long, and his dirty, ragged plaid, he didn’t seem ill. That was a good sign. It meant that whatever affected the Cabduh clan did not hit everyone. There was some immunity. “The English have long wanted all highlanders dead. MacGille may have been fooled by yer bonny sister, but I’ll nae be so easily bewitched.”
Derek was left to roam the keep freely, and he went in search of the herbs she would need if allowed to assist. She had also advised him to gather anyone who was well enough to help with the ill. She would much prefer the argument with Derek over the virtues of hot, clean water than where she is now with the Laird. Even though she knew Derek was close, right now, she wished he was closer, as she was still alone with a potential madman. He appeared unhinged, and she would not like to witness any more of his ire.
“With respect my laird, you sent word to my brother-in-law, Laird MacGille, begging for help. He saw fit to send me to you in good faith. I’m not your enemy. Will you allow me to help or no?”
“Beg! You say I begged! I wouldnae were MacGille th’ last man alive. He is a traitor for marrying the English lass. Yer here because my dear wife sent for help before she fell ill herself. Nae by my choice.” He walked toward her and roughly grabbed her arm.
“My laird! Unhand me!” He twirled her to face him directly. He had a mad look in his eyes. They were striped in red and rimmed in dark. “With respect,” he spat her words back at her. “Lass, how can I be sure ye willnae make it worse?”
She refused to allow him to see how his actions terrified her. She was confident in her healing abilities but was realizing she would find no information about her missing younger brother here. It was an evil place. If Amelia was pressed, she would say the laird hadn’t slept in quite some time, and his lack of rest was dangerous to all around him, most of all her.
She quickly worked her options through her mind and decided docility to be her best course of action.
“My laird,” she whispered, “pray, let me attempt to heal your wife. I’m not here for ill will, you have my word.”
“Your word…” he muttered, squeezing her arm tighter. “What is the word of an English witch worth?” He appeared to Amelia to be arguing with himself as to whether she could be trusted or not. She closed her eyes against the pain, and Gavin’s face appeared before her. He was nowhere close and had no idea where she was. He wouldn’t be able to save her if this went wrong. How was it that so soon after their meeting again the thought of Gavin coming to her aid was the one she clung to? It was a strange thing indeed, made sad by the fact that he was not coming. She was entirely on her own.
“Please my laird, please release me. I’m here to help, not harm.”
Cabduh violently pushed her away, causing Amelia to stumble slightly on the uneven stone floor. Her plait fell from its pins, sending her golden hair loose around her shoulders and she looked up at the Laird trying to guess his next move.
“Go to her, make her well, but mark my words sassenach if she dies, so do you!” And without any further instruction, he stepped over her and left the room.
Amelia sighed with relief. She would help the lady of the keep, but then it would be best she decided to get as far away from Cabduh castle as possible, as fast as her horse would carry her.
Chapter Ten
“So ye’ve met the lass before?” Gavin smiled at Nathan who was having trouble, it seemed, wrapping his head around the fact that Amelia was no stranger to Gavin.
“Aye, Nate. I told ye — I’ve met her before, and now that fate has brought her back tae me, I’ll nay lose her again.”
Gavin hadn’t planned on revealing anything to Nathan MacKenzie about Amelia, their time in Perth, or her plans but he found the long days working together on the home he was building on his land caused him to confide in his brother in-law. He hadn’t had a friend, a true friend in many years, and he found he was liking it.
“Nay, I doona suppose ye would want tae give her up. And what does Lucas think of all this?”
“I have nay told him, well nay in so many words.
He kens my intentions to court the lass proper, but he doesnae ken we’d met before. He most likely thinks me smitten, and I’ll give up on it once I spend more time with her.” He hammered away at a cross beam. They were near finished with the roof of the barn. He and Nathan, along with help from a few more MacKenzie men, were able to make it rather nice. He hoped that he could bring Amelia here once everything was settled. They could live in the barn while they worked together to build the rest of the house.
The thought of her with him, in the barn, keeping each other warm on the cold Scottish nights sent a thrill of desire through him. He adjusted himself as his manhood twitched at the thought of her. He had only been away ten days, yet he yearned to put eyes on her. He wondered, not for the first time since he’d left her at Cadney if she was as consumed with thoughts of him as he was of thoughts of her.
“Why nae tell him the truth of it then? He’s more likely tae give ye his blessin’ if he could trust it’s nay passin’ fancy. She is his wife’s sister, after all.”
“Aye, and I’m his brother. But the lass has her own reasons for not wanting to reveal her past, and I’ll nae be the one to break her confidence.”
“Och, Gav. I’ll nae lie tae yer sister if she asks me direct about yer intentions toward the lass. Milly is smart as a whip, and she noticed at th’ feast when ye disappeared. It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together.”
Gavin smiled at the thought of his twin. She did always seem to know his own heart before he did. He wouldn’t be surprised if Milly had already put two and two together.
“Nate, I wouldnae dream of askin’ ye tae lie tae yer wife. Not on my account.” He smiled into his work.
“So ye plan tae marry th’ lass an’ settle down, then?”
“Aye, it seems married life suits ye and Lucas well enough. Maybe my luck will be th’ same.”
“Maybe indeed, just remember, Gav, th’ women we love… well, they aren’t the easy ones.”
There was that word again, love. Gavin had not thought to apply it to what he felt for Amelia. He knew she was his, and he wouldn’t allow any other man to lay claim to her. But love? Even if he grew to love her, he would never ask it of the lass in return. He was damaged goods. His life in the gaol was hard. Loving him would be a burden, yet if he was planning on marrying the lass, wasn’t he asking her to do just that? And what if he had tae go to battle again? Be away from her, their bairns. Small girls with golden hair and light blue eyes like their bonny mother. He stopped working and looked out into the surrounding land, his land. He wanted a legacy, he wanted to build something here, and he wanted Amelia to be a part of it. But love? He wasn’t so sure.
* * *
“Even if we weren’t locked in this hell hole together, Tristan, I wouldnae leave ye. Yer stronger than ye ken. Together we’ll be free.”
“I wish I had yer confidence, MacGille.”
Gavin thrashed on the soft feather bed, memories of a long-ago night haunting his sleep. He woke with a start, the dream still fresh in his memory. Even though the barn was nearly finished, he still took his sister’s hospitality and slept in the MacKenzie Keep when he was working his land. He sat up in bed and pulled the damp wool from his body. The sweat from his dreams cooling his skin in the night air as he walked over to the bedchamber window. Dawn was barely breaking. Gavin always preferred this time of day. All was quiet, the servants and clansmen were not yet awake. The gentle pink hues of sunrise were just peaking over the horizon. It was peaceful.
Memories of Tristan came flooding back to him as he stared out the window looking over the land. He hadn’t thought of the man for almost four years. He knew nothing of what had become of him once he escaped on that horrid day in Perth. All Gavin knew was he was never seen again in gaol, nor had word that he’d ever made it back. He had hoped it was safe to assume Tristan made it safely back to his family home. Not once in the four years since had Gavin made any kind of journey to Cabduh Castle to see how he faired. It wasn’t that he had forgotten about his friend, but rather he had spent that time trying to forget, forget about everything that had occurred after the battle of Dunkeld, and Tristan was part of that.
Gavin had meant what he told Amelia, Cabduh was a sad place. The old laird was indeed half mad. That was why he made the lass promise not to be foolish and try to approach the keep on her own. In gaol, Tristan would often talk of how he would change things when his father finally died, and Tristan took his place as heir. He was always the scholarly sort, and Gavin wondered if his time in gaol had broken him completely, or if the man had made good on his promise.
An idea came to him. Amelia had promised to avoid pushing Lucas for an invitation to Cabduh, and Gavin still thought it much too dangerous for her. But what if he reached out to his old friend? Made the introductions, and together they could tell Tristan of what she had learned. Surely, after everything, Tristan would help secure information if any were to be had?
It’s a brilliant idea. I can keep th’ lass safe, but still, help her find her brother.
Gavin moved quickly to dress, there was no time to waste. If he were to convince Amelia to marry him and settle down, she would only agree once she learned the fate of her brother. He must return to Cadney right away and tell her of his plan, then prepare to ride to Cabduh.
The nightmare that woke him forgotten completely, Gavin made his way out of the keep toward the stables. There was no time to lose. He needed to see Amelia.
Chapter Eleven
It had been two days, and there was no change in Lady Cabduh. Amelia stared down at her charge with weary eyes. The fever was spiking, and the woman had not woken once.
“If only I knew what was causing the illness,” she said aloud to the empty room.
The Laird had stayed away. Amelia didn’t know if it was his own insanity or fear that he, too, would succumb that kept him away from the Lady’s chamber, but she was grateful. Derek came up frequently to bring her fresh supplies and broth for the lady. He would also report on the progress in the rest of the ill.
Amelia was happy for his company, even when brief. She was glad to hear that the clansmen were starting to slowly recover.
“Now if only her ladyship would turn for the better as well,” she said again, running a cool cloth over the woman’s head. A soft groan escaped her lips. Amelia fought to contain her excitement. It was the first change.
“Charlotte,” she moaned, as her eyes fluttered open and she briefly stared at Amelia. “Charlotte, is that you?”
Amelia gasped and pulled back from the woman.
“No, Charlotte, don’t go. Feels so good. Like Momma. Charlotte, you remember Momma?”
Her mother’s name was Charlotte. Amelia never knew where her mother came from, or how she had come to be married to her father, the Earl. But what were the odds that it was more than coincidence?
Not bloody likely, she thought, still pleased to hear the familiar name. Not knowing how to respond but pleased the woman seemed to be somewhat awake, Amelia decided to play along.
“Yes, of course, I remember, dear,” she said as she returned the cool cloth to her ladyship’s forehead. “Will you be a good dear and take some broth?”
The woman nodded and slightly lifted her head as she opened her mouth.
After taking a few small sips, she dropped her head again, all the strength she had gone. “Charlotte, I did what he asked. He said you went away, that you had to go, but I took the babe. I did what he asked. I miss you so. Why did you leave me?”
Awareness flooded Amelia. The baby? Could it be? Was she talking of the same baby that was rumored to have been brought here all those years ago? If the Charlotte this woman was speaking to was indeed Amelia and Ella’s mother, then who was Lady Cabduh to her? Suddenly Amelia wanted very much for Lady Cabduh to recover, and quickly. She had all but given up hope to find any further answers, but possibly they were here all along. And so close.
She looked upon the woman’s soft features.
Gold blond hair, similar to her own, only with a touch of gray at each temple. Was it from age or a hard life? It was impossible for Amelia to know. Soft downy skin, pale like her own. Could it be possible that Lady Cabduh was a relation? Amelia needed to learn more, needed to keep the woman coherent.
“Where, darling, where did you send the babe?” she asked softly, refreshing her cloth and rubbing it along her ladyship’s face and neck.
“I did as he asked. Liam was so angry, so very angry, Charlotte, but I told him ye were my sister and we must help. He said ye were as good as English now, but that’s not true, Charlotte, yer as much part of th’ Highlands as any of us.”
It was clear to Amelia she was looking for some type of absolution, and from what she was saying, could it be that this woman was her mother’s sister? She searched her memory for any mention of her mother’s people, a sister, or a name? Amelia had been too young. She didn’t know.