There was a spot in the garden that was Dougal's favourite place in the entire castle. Right next to a pond and screened from prying eyes on almost all sides by a dense bosk of rosebushes and a thicket of whistling pine trees it guaranteed privacy from the rest of the garden and that was where Dougal headed.
He was almost there when something made him pause. Voices. Low murmurings that barely carried in the sunlit garden but was discernible as male and female. Because of the screen of plants, it was a perfect trysting spot although Dougal hadn't brought anyone there or actually seen anyone engaged in amorous acts there but he had heard gossips. Was today the day he finally found a couple? He wondered if he should return back to his chambers and stew in his black moods or frighten the couple off.
Dougal decided on leaving and was turning when he heard the male say: Seonag.
Seonag! His sister was the female?! And was the eager-to-please Marcus the male. Somehow Dougal didn't think so. The lad had seemed so proper and in control of himself. Whoever the man was, Dougal was going to put a stop of it.
It was truly his sister Seonag and she gave a little scream when she saw him but he was looking at her, rather at the lad she was holding hand with. It was the same lad he had found with Lili this morning.
His anger exploded again and he reached for the lad, snarling. The lad had jumping to his feet, forcing Dougal to look up into his eyes, his hands were bunched in preparation for a fight. Dougal smiled mirthlessly; he'll take morbid joy in tearing the lad apart.
“Ailbeart no!” Seonag's voice was like a sharp crack of whip, jolting him out from the haze that had descended on him. “Go, just go!”
The lad looked uncertainly from Dougal to Seonag and for a moment Dougal thought he was going to stay and fight like every nerve in his body was begging him to do, so he could pummel him to pieces. But the boy sagged forward and startled slouching away.
Dougal reached for him, determined to not let him get away the second time, only to feel someone snatch his arm back. He looked down at his sister whose face pleaded with him not to do what his body was singing for. When he looked back up the lad was gone.
“We love each other,” Seonag told him when she thought her lover had escaped Dougal's wrath.
Dougal scoffed in disbelief. “Ye think this is love? You little fool. ‘Tis nothing more than carnal list and once it has burned off, nothing is left but sorrow and regret on your end of the stick.”
Seonag looked stricken. “That's no true. Ailbeart loves me and I him. We swore to each other we'd get married with or without mother and father's blessing. But then this hand fasting comes... Oh Dougal, ye must talk to father about it. I dinnae want to marry Douglas, I dinnae love him. Please speak with him. Ye must.” She was clutching on his arm, her big blue eyes looking beseechingly at him.
Dougal remembered her as a wee lass who was always shadowing him, curious about what he was doing, who waited at the gate house for him to return from whatever trip he went on, and the soft kiss she'd give him when he presented her with a ribbon or some bauble. Now the wee lass has grown enough to be married off and she was begging him to halt it. He wished it were those times she'd run to him for fear of thunder or when she skinned her knee, those problems were simple enough. This was complicated. He gentled his tone and took her hands in his.
“I have spoken to father about the marriage but he is dead set on it and so is your mother. They would see you married to Marcus McLagan and I hope ye'll find happiness with him. These ... affections ye hold for this lad will fade with time and ye will be glad then. Ye…”
“Nay!” Seonag said fiercely, snatching her hands from his as though they burned. “If ye knew what love is ye wouldna've said that. But ye dinnae. There's no love in your black heart.” She pronounced, her face crumpling to tears, leaving Dougal befuddled.
“Seonag…” Dougal began but the burning look in her eyes stopped him from going further and she fled the garden.
As he watched her leave, he felt even more guilty and there was an odd feeling of relief. Unless Ailbeart was with both of them at once, which he doubted the boy was like Marcus-honest -, that meant he must have misread the situation this morning between Lili and the lad. But even with the relief, the guilt that he had wronged so many people in the span of morning and noon ate at him.
It seemed as though the peace he had come searching for in the garden eluded him, but not willing to return to the torpor of his chambers or meet with anyone else he might wrong, he settled down on the spongy grass in the shade cast by the foliage of the pines. And as he lay there, listening to the birds, he thought about the tune Lili had played for his father on her harp. He had stayed behind and listened at the door. The music had brought him contentment merely by listening to it.
With a smile, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 8
There was always a man in her dreams, a man with no face, a man she was always struggling to catch up with. He was someone important to her. Someone she had forgotten his name or importance to her but not his scent. It teased her both in the dream world and reality, the scent of pine and freshly crushed grass. Master Dougal often smelled that way perhaps that's why she was attracted to him.
It was always the same place, in a glen on a too bright day and there were horses. Lili guessed they were out riding. She felt happy with him at least until the day turned dark and cold and when she looked at him again there was a dirk sticking out from his chest, and the dirk was then in her hand, sticky with blood. She then heard footsteps, her nose filled with the overpowering smell of cloves, it was almost a stench. She turned to run and was thrown into an icy rush of water. It was always when she was drowning that she woke, sometimes with a strangled yell; other times gasping and spluttering; and the rest of the times struggling only to find herself safe and warm on her pallet.
The dreams were some of her lost memories, something that must have happened right before she’d lost her memory. She must have seen someone murdered or heaven forbid, murdered someone. But who had it been? It had been someone she loved and had been happy with. Her husband? Had she been married? And then there was the other person she was always hearing their footsteps; she never saw them but felt a deep fear. Was the person the one that had committed the murder? The one that had seen her commit the murder?
These questions would churn in her mind and she'll strain herself mentally, trying to remember more before giving up in frustration and heading for the garden.
Tonight, there was something slightly different with her dream. Before the man had gotten stabbed, she got the feeling he had looked over his shoulder and he clearly said 'brother,' before the blade had found its mark. Then every other thing had progressed the same way. When she awoke, she felt a bit of satisfaction. There were two questions out of a thousand answered. The other person had been a man, a brother to the other one and had killed him. She felt a sense of relief that she wasn't a murderer and for the first time, she didn't strain herself but lay down on her pallet and wondered if more information about herself would come to her in her dreams. If she would see their faces or dream something else entirely but something still connected to her past.
“Give it time,” the physician had said. “These things take time. Once ye start remembering, nothing can stop the other memories from returning.”
Smiling, Lili began humming the tune to herself and some words began forming at the edge of her memories, before she fell back to sleep, she remembered the words: birds flying back to roost.
She woke with a start and an urgent need to make water. Pushing off the coverlet, she wrapped her earasaid about her and stumbled out to the cold morning to the outdoor privy and came out a few moments later. She stumbled back to her pallet and was in the process of dozing off when Mistress Eubh started waking everyone up.
“I need ye tae go ter Master Samuel and see about the candles,” Eubh said to her after she had washed her face and shrugged into her clothes.
Lili nodded, her mind still in the process of rousing and stumbled out of the kitchen. The cold air did much to wake her and her mind was alert halfway across the greensward to the chandlery.
Master Samuel was just struggling into his clothes when the knocked on his door and announced herself.
“Tell Mistress Eubh we are workin' as fast as we can. It canna be rushed.” He told her mulishly but nonetheless gave her a burlap sack full of beeswax candle that teased her nostrils to the point of sneezing with their scent.
Struggling with the weight, Lili thought this was supposed to be Ailbeart's duty. Had he snuck off again? Mistress Eubh would have said something if he had. Maybe he had fallen Ill.
She was rounding the brewery, a stout stone building that resembled a stout drum, when a giggling noise made her stop her in her tracks. She knew that giggle. It sounded suspiciously like Moire. And it was Moire.
She was in the arms of a man who had his back to her and was trailing kisses down the column of her throat while she giggled and pretended to fight him off. A man with the same build as Master Dougal. Lili stumbled, from the weight of the sack or from the blow to her heart she didn't know. But at that sight there was a sudden sock to her heart and she felt her chest tighten, unable to draw breath.
Moiré’s hand was threading themselves through the thick chestnut locks of his hair, something Lili had been yearning to do for long. She hurriedly clamped her hand to her mouth to stifled the sob that was trying to make an escape. But she was too late. Master Dougal was so intent in his pleasure that he didn't notice but Moire did and she met Lili's teary face with her glinting cat eyes, a sly grin lifting up the corner of her mouth before she gave a low moan and clutched even harder on his hair.
Lili fled unable to bear the sight a moment longer. She let the sack drop from her hands into the dirt floor, dimly aware some might be broken, as her body trembled with jealous rage and heart break. It was not a secret to anyone the relationship between Moire and Master Dougal. Why? She reminded herself each day of their arrangement. Why then had seeing them together hurt? Her heart felt like it was being held in a vicelike grip and she wanted to fiercely hurt Moire. To be embracing blatantly in broad daylight where anyone could walk in on them seemed to be indiscrete and even more hurtful to Lili.
It should have been her and not Moiré he was embracing and pleasuring with his lips, not Moire she thought with scathing dislike. Oh! Get a grip of yourself, she scolded. What has this little scene taught her? That Master Dougal wasn't interested in her in the slightest and she should move on with her life.
What would become of it anyway, she thought, needling herself in the still open wound as she picked up the sack. Nothing. So she should save herself the trouble. Nothing would become of his relationship with Moire as well, he would abandon her soon enough. Lili took a savage pleasure at the thought of that day that Moire would be left in the dust. Nothing would please her more than watching.
She felt an immense dislike for the both of them the more she thought about it. There must have been a slightly hard expression on her face when she got back to the kitchen.
“Is anythin' the matter lass?” Mistress Eubh asked, concern draw lines in her face.
Lili closed her eyes and controlled her expression. “Nay, nothing Mistress Eubh, ‘tis nothing to worry about. Where is Ailbeart?”
“Poor lad is a wee bit sick and I suggest'd he has a lie in till noon.”
That news surprised her. In the two years she had been in the castle, Ailbeart had never taken ill. He had however had bruises and scrapes and cuts from his adventures around the castle and dismissed them as though they were nothing. It raised enough concern and suspicion in her that banished the hurt, anger and bitterness she was feeling. Concern that he was really ill and suspicion that he might be pretending and planning something. Not skiving off of work, he needn't an excuse to do that, but something of a mischievous nature.
Lili wanted to ask if she could go see him when she felt a load of down in her arms and Mistress Eubh handing her a pail full of coals.
“One o’ the McLagans is needin' more bedding and fire. Sent a lad down here ter raise ruckus. Go quickly now lass, he be in the Rookery.”
The Rook was in Bhatair keep and joined to the Laird's keep by a cover walkway with windows that over looked the training yard. Lili espied Master Dougal there as she hurried briskly along the walkway and she felt a jolt as well as puzzlement. Was he done with Moire already? From the looks of it minutes ago, they looked set to be there for a long time and from the looks of it now and the sweat he had worked from his physical exertion, it appeared he had been here for a long time. Had she mistaken another man for Master Dougal? But the look Moire had given her. The woman was aware of Lili's pining for him and it amused her to rub it in her face that she and her object of desires shared things Lili never will with him.
As though aware that someone was watching him, he stopped swinging his claymore and glanced up at the walkway. Lili started and jumped out of sight before half running the rest of the way, worried about the cooling coal.
The rookery used to house some of the most exotic birds in the time of the chief's grandfather and after the man's death. The birds had either pined away, or been let go, or moved to a much smaller antechamber next to the Surgery where the physician looked after them. Now, it had been converted to a bedchamber, albeit a very airy one.
The rookery had stone cold floors large windows on that let in cold air almost all the time. Even with the rushes, tapestries and drapes, the rookery remained chilly. Lili sympathised with the man's need for more warmth. He must have had an unpleasant night. Still he must have been an important member of the McLagan clan to have an entire chamber to himself.
Coming to a halt before the giant oak doors banded by black steel, she dropped the pail to knock on the door. And waited till she heard some mutterings she took as him asking who was there before speaking.
“’Tis the maid Master McLagan; I am here with the blankets ye requested for.”
She heard him shuffling across the room before the oak door opened with a groan and a fierce mien peered out into the semi-gloom of the hallway. Lili sucked in a sharp breath of shock and fright as she saw him. It was him! The McLagan that had assaulted her the other night. He was looking less disreputable now but it was him and from the slightly puzzled frown that further creased his face, he hadn’t recognised her.
Lili hurriedly composed herself but still felt her skin prickle as she went into the chambers at his behest. The door shut with a dull boom that made her jump an inch off the floor and she against stifled a yelp of fright.
The rookery was cavernous and with the fires off, it seemed even more endless. It was cold in here, a cold that chilled to the bones.
“There was a draft before dawn that blew off the fire,” the McLagan provided explanation. “Couldna get a decent sleep. Curse if I ken why they put me here,” he muttered to himself.
There was a huge bed in the centre of the room that looked slept in and Lili dropped the blankets on it.
“Shall I warm up the bed?” She asked, aware he was looking at her but she kept her gaze on his knees beneath his kilt, her skin still prickling.
He gave her leave to do so and she fetched the pan Eubh had placed between blankets and opened the lid, filling it with a reasonable amount of coal before snapping the lid back and placing it under the mattress. While she did all these, she was aware of his probing gaze on her and felt increasingly uncomfortable and knew it told on the way she was holding herself.
“Could ye do the fire as weel?” He requested in a low voice. “Get the room warmed up too.”
“Of course, Master McLagan.” She stiffly walked across to the great hearth, all the while wondering if he was going to repeat that night's behaviour. He wasn't drunk this morning and there wouldn't be an excuse for his conduct.
Within minutes, a fire was crackling merrily in the hearth and Lili was bending to retrieve her bucke
t when he spoke.
“Ye are that lass, the other night. The one I met in the garden.”
Lili stiffened even as she felt a jolt of annoyance. Met! He had tried to tear the clothes off her.
She gave a curt nod and looked towards the door, longing to escape but the McLagan was standing in the way.
“I have to return to the kitchen Master McLagan; I will be missed.” She told him.
“Nigel. My name is Nigel, not master McLagan.”
Lili's body twitched.
“I must apologise for my conduct that night. It wasna right what I did. I was drunk and ye are verra beautiful but it doesna excuse it. For that I am sorry.”
Lili looked sharply at him trying to gauge if he was mocking her. People like him do not apologise to people like her. He looked sincere enough but her guard was still up and she nodded.
“I have to get back Master Nigel.” She repeated.
“Of course,” he allowed and stepped aside for her to go through.
The door closed behind her and Lili finally let herself relax and she started to leave when she almost walked into a shirtless and sweaty Dougal in kilt and still holding onto his claymore. Lili's lungs seized and that warm fluttering feeling started in the pit of her belly. There was an expression in his eyes she couldn't quite discern but whatever it was it suffused her with light.
“Did he touch ye?” He asked in a deep rumble.
Lili shook her head.
“What are ye doin' up here alone in the chambers of a man that attacked ye?” He demanded in a voice tight with anger and suspicion.
Lili flinched yet again and her voice tightened. “I was doing my duty Master Dougal.”
“Someone else coulda done so.”
“Nay, they cannae. By your leave Master Dougal, I'm expected in the kitchen.” And without a second glance backwards, she left.
Healing the Highlander's Heart Page 6