“The barn is warm enough, there is hay there to make a bed, and ye shall be comfortable,” the woman said, as Elaine yawned.
“Perhaps one of yer sons would be good enough to show us the way,” Finlay said, and the woman nodded.
“Aye, and in the mornin’, I shall have porridge for yer breakfast and send ye on yer way with some fresh bread and cheese,” she said, as Elaine thanked her for her trouble.
“Ye have been most kind,” she said, and the woman smiled.
“The two of ye remind me of my husband and me when we were younger. There is somethin’ about ye both, the possibility of all that ye will dae together. Tis’ more than chance which brought ye here, I am certain of it. Now, to yer beds, ye must be tired,” she said, pointing to the door.
The two youths now led Finlay and Elaine out to the barns. It was growing dark now, the rain pitter-pattering down over the moorlands and the sweet scent of the heather rising up from the warm, damp ground.
“And ye two lads, what dae dream of?” Finlay asked them as they came to the barn at the side of the croft.
“To continue our father’s legacy, to build this croft and the farm. That is what he wanted for us,” one of them replied.
“Ye daenae dream of somethin’ more? Of seein’ more of the world?” Finlay asked, and both of them shook their heads.
“There is enough here for us,” the other said, and his brother nodded.
They bid the two brothers goodnight and made their way into the bar. It was warm after the heat of the day and dry, its roof well made, and the bales of straw untouched by the rain.
“We shall be comfortable here,” Elaine said, spreading out some of the straw into a bed.
“Aye, I am grateful to the woman for her hospitality. I daenae know what we would have done without it,” Finlay said.
“Once again, we have been fortunate, but I cannae help but think that soon our fortunes will cease,” Elaine said, lying down upon the straw and pulling more straw over her like a blanket.
Finlay lay down next to her and sighed, stretching out and yawning.
“For now, we are safe, at least,” he said, rolling onto his side.
He was close to her; she could hear his breathing, a steady and reassuring presence. It amused her to think of them as man and wife, more than that, she liked the thought, and, as she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she thought more of what it might be like to be mistress of Kilchurn.
The kiss they had shared earlier that day was one she would never forget and how she longed for it not to be a passing fancy on the part of Finlay. He kept his feelings close, but, for a moment, she had seen them as they truly were. Was he in love with her? She could hardly ask him outright, but she hoped very much that he was.
Her own feelings had grown as well, quite unexpectedly. She could not think of the precise moment; it had been gradual and come upon her without warning. There had not been time to grow to love Finlay’s father, but in thinking that he had also perished, she had found the truth in her feelings. She was in love with Finlay, and to be at his side was all she wished for.
Now, in the warmth of the barn, covered by the straw and with Finlay at her side, Elaine felt safe and reassured. She waited until Finlay was sound asleep before turning on her side and moving close to him.
Sleepily, he put his arm out over her, and she lay close to his chest, her head resting below his. There, she fell asleep, not waking until morning when the first rays of light came through a gap under the barn door, the sound of rain echoing on the roof above.
Chapter Sixteen
“More rain, or so it sounds like,” Finlay said, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
He had slept soundly through the night, his first restful sleep in days and for which he was thankful. He pulled on his cloak and stood up, stretching, and going to the door to look out. The rain was falling over the moorlands, which were covered in a fine dreich, allowing him to see only as far as the mounds of heather rising up from the fences which surrounded the croft.
“It will make it harder to find our way,” Elaine said, coming to join him at the door.
“And for others to find us. We should be thankful for such weather, tis’ a blessin’ for those wishin’ nae to be seen,” Finlay replied.
Elaine nodded and began packing away their things into the saddlebags as Finlay stepped out to find Shona and her sons.
“We were nae sure if we should wake ye or nae,” one of the youths said, appearing around the side of the croft.
Finlay smiled at him and shook his head, pointing back toward the barn and laughing.
“I think Ela … Liza would have slept far longer if I had allowed it,” he replied, and the youth smiled.
“Dae ye want some breakfast? Mother has made porridge for ye, tis’ laid out in the croft, tell yer wife to come and then after ye have eaten, we will show ye the road ye need to take,” he said.
“Yer mother was adamant that we should avoid the MacDonalds, what dae ye think?” Finlay asked, and the youth shook his head.
“The MacDonalds have been nay friend to us. Where were they when our croft was raided and our father killed? Nay, sir, I want nothin’ to dae with them,” he said, shaking his head and turning away.
Finlay nodded. He felt sorry for this family, all alone on the moorlands, and he wondered what would become of them as the country slipped further and further into chaos and confusion. Would their way of life survive? It was a fragile existence, and but for their resilience, it could not last.
“Ye deserve more than this, lad. There is a whole world out there. Tis’ a good and noble thing to help yer mother as ye dae but the two of ye must long for somethin’ else, for adventure. I saw ye fight yesterday. With proper trainin’, the two of ye could both become great warriors,” Finlay replied.
“In whose army? Yers?” the youth replied, laughing and shaking his head.
Finlay was silent, but at that moment, he vowed to do anything he could to help the family who had been so kind to them and to return to pay back his debt of gratitude.
“Bring our guests into the croft, Andrew, their porridge is ready,” came a shout from the door, and Finlay hurried after the youth, just as Elaine emerged from the barn.
Together, they enjoyed a hearty breakfast. Not only was there porridge but eggs too, cooked on a skillet and with freshly made bread, spread with churned butter and bilberry jam.
“Ye have been ever so kind,” Finlay said, pressing a further two coins into Shona’s hands as they made ready to depart.
“And tis’ not every day we receive guests from Edinburgh,” she said, smiling at them both, as she handed over a further loaf of bread and a large wedge of cheese.
“We may pass this way again upon our return, and we shall call upon ye,” Elaine said, and Finlay nodded.
“Aye, that we shall. But now, show us the way we are to take,” he said.
The youth named Andrew walked with them for a while along the trail northwards. They had bid goodbye to his mother and the other children, who stood and watched at the door of the croft as they made their way onto the heathers. The dreich had lifted a little, though the rain remained persistent, and already their clothes were damp.
“Ye should take this path here. It will lead around the MacDonald territory, and ye will meet nay one until ye reach the village at Suilevenn. There ye may find a place to rest and a meal tonight, perhaps,” Andrew said as he bid them goodbye.
“Thank ye, Andrew. We shall nae forget this kindness,” Finlay said, and they bid the youth goodbye, waving to him as they rounded a corner ahead out of sight and began to cross the open moorlands.
“Well, Mr. McGinty, where now?” Elaine said, laughing, as she put her arms around Finlay’s waist and rested, her head on his back.
“We shall ride on a little as though we were makin’ for the northern path and then cross the heathers toward where the MacDonalds have their castle at Loch Arden,” Finlay said, a shiver running throug
h him at the feel of Elaine’s arms clasped around him, “And am I to call ye Mrs. McGinty still?”
“It has a certain way about it, aye,” she replied and kissed him on the cheek.
Finlay felt himself blush, his passions for her arising and a sense of longing filling his heart. But now was not the time to tell her of his true feelings, he had shown them well enough when he kissed her, and he hoped now that she knew just how much he cared for her. He knew that he was in love with her and that he would do anything to keep her safe.
But despite this, he knew they were riding into the unknown, and he worried that he would be unable to protect her if enemy or foe came upon them unexpectedly. Would the MacDonalds receive them in peace as once they had hoped, or would Finlay be seen as a prize to be taken, an exchange to be made, and a ransom to be demanded?
There was no telling what might happen, and Finlay felt as though they were faced by wolves to their backs and lions to their front. Whatever choice he made would present fresh danger, the peace of the heathers and moorlands a mask for the troubles which lay all around.
“I wish the rain would stop; I am soaked through,” Finlay said after they had ridden along the path northwards for around an hour.
“Perhaps now is the time to cut across the heathers. We may find shelter there, a place to rest and take a little food,” Elaine said, and Finlay nodded.
“Aye, anythin’ to find a place that is dry and hospitable. These moorlands are beautiful in the sun, but in the rain, they are as miserable as sin itself,” he said, shaking his head.
He urged the horse to the left, though the animal seemed reluctant to leave the well-trodden path north, no doubt hoping for its own stable and a pail of oats later that day.
“Even the horse is reluctant,” Elaine said, laughing.
“Tis’ a sorry day when yer own beast will nae even take ye where ye want to go,” Finlay said.
“Though surely he is better treated now than under his former mistress,” Elaine replied.
“Aye, and we must keep a watch out for her too. I have nay doubt that she is still alive, and if she is, then she will be lookin’ for us, ye mark my words,” Finlay replied.
They rode on a little further until the path disappeared from sight behind them, and they found themselves amidst swirling mists and heather stretching out on every side. Finlay reined in the horse, pausing and trying to get a sense of direction.
“Perhaps this was nae such a sensible thing to dae,” Elaine said, and Finlay sighed and began to laugh.
“Well, if we are lost, then there is little hope of my uncle findin’ us. Daenae worry, if we keep going, we shall come to somewhere, is that nae right?” he said, and Elaine laughed.
“Aye, if we keep going, then we shall arrive somewhere,” she said, “that much is true.”
“But first, we should rest a little. Look here, a dell and trees, tis’ nae as bleak as I thought it was,” Finlay said, as out of the mist, there emerged a bank in the heathers which led down to trees growing at the edge of a stream.
He climbed down from the saddle and led the horse with Elaine still on its back to the edge of the water. They were sheltered there, the trees growing tall and close all around. A large holly bush provided welcome shelter from the rain, and with a tinder box which Finlay had found stowed in Maggie McClean’s saddlebag, they soon had a little fire going at its base.
“There now, I feel better already,” Elaine said, warming her hands on the fire.
“And we shall eat a little before going on our way,” Finlay said, taking out the loaf of bread which Shona had given them earlier on.
“They were a kind family. I was sorry to lie to them,” Elaine said, but Finlay shook his head.
“It was kinder to dae so. To have asked them to lie for us to any who came searchin’ would have placed an intolerable burden upon them. Nay, we did the right thing, though I hope that we can one day reward them for their kindness,” he said, handing a piece of bread to Elaine.
“Dae ye think there is any hope? Will the MacDonalds help us?” she asked, and Finlay looked at her gravely.
“I daenae know. There is part of me that questions it. Why should they help us now? What will they gain? Our clan was once powerful. That is why they wished for peace with us. Now, this Laird will come to ask for peace and with nothin’ to offer them in return. Tis’ a question we shall find the answer to in their hall, whether for good or ill,” he said.
Elaine looked at him for a moment, the damp wood on the fire crackling and spitting.
“Dae ye ever think of runnin’ away? Of nae going back to Kilchurn?” she asked, her words trailing off, as though she were wondering if she had spoken out of turn.
“I have thought about it, aye,” he said, shaking his head sadly.
“But ye wouldnae dae so?” she said.
“I couldnae dae so, nae if I even wanted to, though I will admit the idea is attractive enough, especially with ye,” he said, blushing a little as he looked at her.
Elaine smiled, and it was as though their thoughts were as one for a moment. The thought of running away was one that Finlay had contemplated in the past days. He had pictured him and Elaine riding off across the moorlands, not looking back. No longer would he be burdened by grave responsibilities and the duty of his title. Instead, the two of them would be together, and that would be all that mattered.
It was a vision with much attraction, but one he knew he could never seriously contemplate. His heart was too duty-bound, too filled with a sense of right and wrong that he knew he could never abandon his post. He must return to Kilchurn, of that he was certain, and face his fate. But he would not willingly put Elaine in danger, and a part of him still wished that she would return to her father’s castle at Carrick, where she would be safe.
“We would be crofters on some far-off moor, just like Shona and her family,” Elaine said, and Finlay laughed.
“But we know nothin’ about farmin’ or livin’ from the land. We would be like a fish out of water,” he said, shaking his head.
“But the thought is a fine one,” she said, and Finlay could only agree.
“I wanted to ask ye somethin’ first,” he said, taking her by the hand, “the kiss we shared, I am sorry if I seemed forward in my affections, but tis’ a fact that …”
But just then, the sounds of horses’ hooves came from close by, echoing through the dreich, and Finlay pulled Elaine back into the boughs of the holly bus, stamping down the fire as he did so.
“Finlay, up there, look,” Elaine whispered, pointing up through the trees onto the ridge above.
There, outlined against the darkening sky behind, was a rider, and then there appeared a dozen more, all mounted on fine steads and well-armed. Finlay held his breath, praying that the smoke from the smoldering fire would not be seen through the mist.
“There is nothin’ here to trouble us,” one of the men said, his voice echoing around the dell.
“I could have sworn I smelt woodsmoke on the air,” another said.
“Ye are mistaken, come now, tis’ too wet to pause here any longer, I am already soaked through,” the other replied, and reining round his horse, he galloped off across the moorlands.
Finlay watched as the others departed, but the one with his suspicions aroused paused a moment, glancing down through the trees. For a moment, it felt as though his eyes fell upon Finlay and Elaine, but he gave no sense of having seen them, and with a final glance, he turned his horse and rode away.
Elaine let out a sigh of relief and put her arms around Finlay, resting her head upon his shoulder. He could feel her heart beating, and she was breathless, shaking with fear. He tried his best to comfort and reassure her, but it seemed now that they were surrounded by foes on every side. Even in the middle of the moorlands, those vast, open spaces, danger lurked, and Finlay was unsure just how long he could protect her.
“They are gone, daenae be afraid,” he whispered, peering out from the boughs of the ho
lly bush.
The rain was still coming down hard, and the mist hanging all around. Anyone could be lurking just yards away, and he would not have known, but Finlay had no desire to scare Elaine anymore than she already was. He made a pretense of checking around the dell, his hand on his sword hilt lest an enemy come upon him by surprise.
“Who were they? Surely, we are miles from anywhere,” Elaine said, emerging cautiously from their hiding place.
“Perhaps they are MacDonalds our patrollin’ their lands. We must be in their territory now, though, until this dreich clears, we will nae know which direction to go in,” Finlay said.
Highlander’s Forbidden Desire: Wanting her was forbidden, having her was his ruin... Page 18
