“Better a coffin than kept a prisoner in my own home,” with that Nairne stormed from the room as her parents looked on.
“Ye see what ye have done now? The lassie needs her freedom, at least allow her tae walk in the forest, as far as the pools where she likes to swim, there is no threat there.
“Ye would tell me what tae do now, would ye? Are ye the Laird?” Taking hold of her arm, Murdoch pulled Una towards him, and she struggled under his iron grip, “just ye remember who yer Laird is, woman.”
“I know just who the Laird is,” Una replied, “and it is a sorry thing for ye that I bore ye only a daughter so that no heir will be forthcoming.”
“Aye, and that is why ye are good for nothing, woman, but it will not matter, an heir will be found when Nairne is married, and I have just the man suitable for her in mind, dinnae ye worry about that.”
“Ye cannot just marry her to whoever ye choose.”
“I can marry her tae whoever I please, and she shall produce an heir as is her duty,” Murdoch grasped his wife's arm in a tight grip.
“But the poor lassie would be so desperately unhappy, dinnae subject her to the same cruel fate ye planned for Rhona and have subjected me tae.”
“That is enough,” Murdoch raised his hand in anger.
Letting go of her arm, he left her reeling in pain, storming from the Great Hall and shouting orders at the servants. Una sighed and continued with her breakfast, worrying for her daughter’s safety once again, fearful of where her husband’s mood would take him.
* * *
Nairne threw herself upon her bed, weeping as she clutched the blankets to her. How she hated her father and detested him for forcing her to remain confined to the castle, all she wanted was to walk in the forest, a consolation for the misery she felt at his hands.
A few moments later, there came a gentle tapping at the door, and her mother entered. Una too had been crying and came to sit with Nairne upon the bed, the two women embracing one another in shared sorrow.
“Why must he be so wicked, mother?” The marks on Una’s arm were still visible from Murdoch’s grip.
“It is his way, and the way of any person eaten up by a desire for vengeance. He is a wicked man, even though beneath it there may be some good.”
“There is no good in my father.”
“There is good in everyone, sometimes it remains buried, but in everyone, there is some. I have seen it in him, fleeting glimpses, but that is all. His heart is so twisted by his desire for revenge that I fear that good shall never come again.”
“What vengeance does he want, mother?”
“He wants tae kill the heir tae the Cameron’s and face his brother in battle, that is the vengeance he wants, and he will stop at nothing until he gets it.”
“And meanwhile we are left tae feel his wrath when the quarrel is not with us but with them,” Nairne took her mother’s hand and stroking it, soothingly.
“Aye, it seems that is our lot, but it should not be, and certainly it should not be yers my dear, Nairne. Ye must go and walk in the forest if it pleases ye, I shall tell him that I gave my permission tae ye.” Una smiled through her tears, and Nairne smiled back, thankful that her mother was there to comfort her, despite the hardships of life with Murdoch.
“Thank ye, mother, if I did not have ye, then I would truly be all alone in the world.”
“Ye had best be going then if ye run now ye might catch the last of the morning sun. I find the forest so beautiful at that time. I shall tell yer father that I sent one of the servants to chaperone ye, go now before he catches us again, his mind will soon be distracted by other things.”
Nairne wasted no time in running across the courtyard and out through the castle gates. No one was around, the guards busy at other duties during the day, and she entered the forest, breathing in the fresh air and reveling in the beauty of her surroundings once again. She had no idea that the paths she took were the same ones which just a week before Andrew Cameron had made as he ran from the castle towards home. Nor did she know that he had followed her from the pool, watching her through the trees and marveling time and again at her beauty. In fact, she gave little thought to the man whose fleeting vision had caused her to run from the pool in fright, but he had not forgotten her.
* * *
Andrew Cameron had continued to make his excuses and run through the forest to the pool. He had done so almost every day, so much so that his mother had given up trying to prevent him. Every morning the young man had hurriedly eaten his breakfast of oatmeal, and throwing his cloak about his shoulders had run across the heathers and into the forest. There amongst the trees, he had made his way to the pool, eagerly expecting sight of Nairne, but it was not to be.
“Ye are shirking from yer responsibilities again laddie,” his uncle would repeat, and his stepfather looked on with disappointment.
“There is nothing for me tae do, I have finished my tasks,” Andrew replied, and in fact, he had been rising early each day to see to the animals so that neither his uncle nor his stepfather could disagree.
As each day passed, he wondered if he would ever see her again, the vision of that beautiful lassie ever lodged in his mind. That day he vowed to no longer go to the pool if she were not there. He would force himself to forget her and heed his stepfather’s words of loyalty to the clan. His family were growing suspicious and asking questions why he spent so much time amongst the trees instead of going about his work. His excuse for solitude would only last so long. As he ran through the trees that day, Andrew Cameron knew his flights of fancy were coming to an end.
“She will not be there,” he spoke quietly, listening intently lest her gentle song be calling on the breeze.
But all was silent, except for the sounds of the forest around him
“And if she is not there then ye must never return here again,” the words sounded more forceful than his resolve, for he had no real intention of abandoning Nairne to her father’s wicked whims.
Approaching the pools that he saw his Godmother in the distance, her familiar figure leant over as she picked berries and mushrooms from the forest floor. Not wishing to startle her he slowed and made the sound of the cuckoo with his hands, a sign between the two since his childhood. Looking up, she smiled as he approached and made the sound herself, echoing it through the trees as perfectly as though the birds itself were flying above them.
“And what is my Godson doing walking in the forests today? Is there not work tae se tae above?” and laying aside her basket, Cairstain embraced the boy as he caught his breath.
“I am away tae the pool, perhaps the young lassie will be there,” and reaching into his Godmother’s basket he plucked out a handful of berries.
She slapped his hand away and laughed, the thought of such young love warming her heart.
“Do ye know any more about the young lassie? Ye haven’t been coming here each day on the hope of seeing her again have ye?”
“I saw her again, she was …” Andrew began, catching himself at the prospect of revealing Nairne’s identity to his Godmother.
“Aye, what was she?” Cairstine knew Andrew was holding something back.
She knew him better than almost anyone, and despite his many qualities, he could not lie. Somewhat lost for words but realising she had seen through him, he sighed.
“The lassie is … well, I found something out about her, something that is not good.”
“Well she is not a faery, that much is certain,” Cairstine replied, “so that can make her only …,”
“A Mackintosh,” Andrew was not yet willing to tell the whole story of Nairne to his Godmother.
“Aye, I suspected as much when ye told me about her, if she fled towards the village when ye spoke with her then it is unlikely she is anything else, how did ye find this out?”
“I saw her again and followed her, I was careful not tae be seen, but she went all the way tae the castle and was greeted by the soldiers. Ye cannot tell my mot
her; otherwise, she will be greatly angered, and I will be forbidden from even coming here to see y.”
“Aye, ye are lucky ye have a Godmother with such strange habits to her so as tae live in the forest, no doubt ye use me as an excuse every time ye run down here,” Cairstine smiled knowingly at Andrew.
“Aye,” he replied sheepishly, smiling at her.
The two had always got on well, perhaps it was something to do with Cairstine’s presence at his birth or their shared love for the forest, but the two possessed a special bond. Cairstine would keep his secret though Andrew knew that to reveal Nairne’s true identity would be a step too far. Cairstine despised Murdoch and his clan just as much as those ‘above’ and if she knew that Andrew was so fascinated by the daughter of the Laird of the Mackintosh’s then trouble would inevitably arise.
“I … I should get tae the pool now, perhaps she will be there,” and snatching another handful of berries from his Godmother’s basket he made to leave.
“Aye, be on yer way laddie and remember what I said before, do not been tae disappointed if ye never see her again. Lassies can be tricky creatures ye know.”
Andrew wasted no time in running towards the pool, crashing through the forest in his haste and forgetting the need for silence. Soon he was in sight of the waterfalls and could hear the water splashing and crashing into the pools below.
“One more chance, Andrew, one more chance,” he spoke aloud, hiding behind the ferns and casting a furtive glance towards the water’s edge.
* * *
Nairne was humming to herself as she walked through the woodlands. As soon as she had entered the forest, felt immediately at peace, the gentle sounds around her and the dappled shade a cure for the ills of home. There in the woods, she found solace, and it was not long before she was deep within its glades, making her way along the familiar paths towards the pool.
Her mind had turned less and less to the mysterious stranger, he was probably just a peasant, harmless enough, and she was not going to allow such an encounter to scare her away from her favourite place.
She met no one as she walked and that was just how she liked it, aware that the forest was the dwelling place of many folks who preferred not to be seen. There were stories of mythical creatures, spirits of the trees and faery folk who danced at night in the depths of the trees. Nairne found such stories fascinating, though she had little time for such superstitions. She was far more concerned with the practicalities of her life, chief amongst them her desire to escape from her father and his cruel men.
Ever since she was a child, Nairne had felt distant from her father. Not only was he cruel, but he was also aloof and treated her with disdain. The fact she was not a son was a constant source of regret for him and one for which he blamed both she and her mother in equal measure.
Approaching the pool, she removed her shawl and looked out across the water. The deep cold pool looked inviting in the heat, and as she prepared to swim, cast a final look around lest anyone be watching. The forest was quiet, the silence broken only by the sounds of running water and as she leapt into the pool. Nairne felt a familiar sense of freedom that only came from being among the trees, and she dived deeply into the water, emerging with a great splash, unaware that just a short distance away, Andrew was peering at her from the ferns, and wondering what to do next.
Chapter Nine
‘A Meeting of Minds’
As Nairne swam, Andrew watched from a distance, blushing at the sight of Nairne though her beauty fascinated him, and he could hardly tear his eyes away. He had resolved that today would be the last day he came to the pool, but now that she was before him, knew he must act.
Clutching the shawl close to him, he waited for the right moment to reveal himself wondering just what he would say. Having rehearsed this moment a hundred times, he knew that words would fail when he needed them most.
She was beginning to tire, but he thought better of approaching as she emerged from the water, lest she run away again into the forest. He had no desire to follow her back to the castle of her father. Andrew knew that it was now or never, and as she dived into the water, he stepped out of the bushes, holding the shawl before him.
Nairne emerged from the depth of the pool, shaking her head and rubbing the water from her eyes.
“Do not be frightened, I have yer shawl here, I just wanted tae return it tae ye.”
Nairne was not scared this time, the sight of the man had startled her, but it did not cause her alarm as before. Covering her modesty as best she could, the girl swam across to the other side, looking back with a shy expression on her face, and causing Andrew to blush and turn away.
She dressed slowly, watching the back of the figure across the pool, he was more handsome than she remembered though clearly awkward in the company of women. As she dressed, she wondered who he could be, his clothes were those of a crofter though he seemed to possess an air of nobility that was hard to place. He stood tall and proud, all be it with his back to her, and as she finished dressing, called out to him.
“Ye may turn around now, but stay on that side of the pool until I know your intentions are honorable.”
“I assure ye they are only honorable, lassie, I have come here so often in the hope of seeing ye again, why did ye run the first time?”
“Why did I run? Because a mysterious man emerged from the undergrowth just as I had finished swimming, calling out tae me tae stop,” she laughed at his naivety.
“Then why not run now?”
“Because ye are on that side of the pool, and I have made ye stand still a moment, a request ye obeyed, dinnae worry, I still dinnae trust ye one little bit, what is yer name?”
“Andrew,” he held out the shawl once more.
“And ye have kept my shawl this whole time, have ye? What a funny thing tae do,” she laughed again, and Andrew blushed.
“Ye may come over tae this side of the waters, but mind ye dinnae come tae close. I still dinnae trust ye.”
Nairne was not scared of Andrew, she could quickly run away into the forest and lose him if needed. But he intrigued her, and the fact that he had kept her shawl and making a point of returning to the pool made him at the very least an honorable laddie.
“That is close enough, where do ye hail from Andrew? Andrew ...?"
”Andrew M … Ca …Andrew Macleod,”.
“Andrew Macleod, and are ye a resident in these parts? What is a laddie like ye doing wandering in the forest each day, do ye not have work tae see to?” she sat on a rock a few yards from where Andrew stood, playing absentmindedly with her hair.
“I … I live in the forest with my aunt,” Andrew lied, pointing vaguely back into the forest.
“So, ye live in the forest, and yer name is Macleod, I suppose ye want tae know my name tae?”
* * *
Andrew already knew her name, of course, knew far more about her than she realized, but he was not about to reveal too much of himself before he knew she was willing to tell something of herself.
He knew he must be cautious, wary of exposing his family and the clan to retribution from her cruel father. Putting his head on one side, he smiled, holding out the shawl again.
“The shawl for your name,” and now it was her turn to laugh.
“It seems a fair price tae me, my name is Nairne Mackintosh, I had assumed ye were one of my father’s crofters, but it seems I was mistaken.”
Andrew tried his best to look surprised, despite knowing that the lassie before him was the daughter of the most wicked man he had the misfortune to encounter. Tentatively he stepped forward, handing her the shawl.
“Ye are a funny creature, Andrew Macleod, have ye never met a lassie before, why are ye so shy before me?”
“Because ye told me to stay such a distance from ye and not to approach,” and stepping back to his original position, he awaiting further instructions.
“If ye had wished tae pounce upon me then I am sure ye already would have done so; besides,
I am more than a match for a laddie like ye,” she laughed again, “do ye not have work tae see tae, or would ye like to walk through the forest a little with me?” Nairne wrapped the shawl around her and beckoned Andrew over.
* * *
Despite the mysterious appearance of this stranger from the forest, she found herself drawn to him. He had an innocent charm about him, one which no man at her father’s castle or in the village possessed. She had long been prized as an object by the many suitors who passed through. The daughter of the Laird was a fitting prize for any man, and she had grown tired of the way so many men viewed her through the lens of power and opportunity. Nairne had few friends; she was a private person by nature, preferring her mother’s company to that of others. Yet she had no qualms about passing the time of day with this laddie; it seemed almost rebellious. As though in walking with him through the forest she were defying her father and the clan, a feeling which she delighted in and as they began to walk she wondered just what happy chance had brought them together.
Highlander's Rightful Claim (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 7