The Gift: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

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The Gift: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 3

by Ceci Giltenan


  “That seems reasonable,” said Cassie.

  “Aye, ye’d think so. But remember, Claire is only eighteen and has lived an utterly sheltered life for the last ten years. She doesn’t really know what she wants, but the idea of leaving the place she considers her home is overwhelming.”

  “I guess I can understand that.”

  “I’m sure ye can, but medieval men are not quite so understanding. The fact remains that Coll is her laird. She essentially belongs to him, and he has the right to make decisions for her. So, he has sent another letter, giving her an ultimatum. She can return home for several months, as he initially offered. Or she can go for several months to the home of the man to whom he wants her betrothed. Doing so would allow her to get to know the man and his family.”

  Cassie’s eyebrows shot up. “Yikes. That’s a bit like jumping from the frying pan into the fire.”

  Gertrude chuckled. “Ye might think so, but truly it’s a kindness. Many noblewomen have no say at all in who they marry and may not meet their future husband until their wedding day.”

  “And what’s to keep Claire from just saying no again?”

  “The mother abbess. Ye see, Laird Morrison was in the habit of sending a large donation to the abbey in April and September every year, to ensure his daughter was well cared for and had everything she needed for a comfortable life.”

  “And Coll isn’t going to do that?”

  “Nay, not until Claire has tried life outside the abbey at least for a little while. Without those funds, the Mother Abbess will be forced to send her home.”

  “What if she decides to join the order?” asked Cassie.

  “If she wanted to take vows, normally her dowry would be given to the abbey. But again Coll has refused to do that unless she agrees to leave the abbey for a few months. He thinks—and he’s right—that any decision she makes now would be based on the fact that she’s afraid to leave and not that she really wants to take vows. For what it’s worth, the Mother Abbess agrees.”

  “So if I don’t pop into Claire’s body, what is she going to do that will result in her death?”

  “She plans to sneak away from the abbey and hide in the forest for a while. She hopes that when she returns her brother will realize that she doesn’t want to go home, be married or, truth be told, take religious vows. She wants everything to go on as it has been.”

  “And something bad will happen to her if she does that?”

  Gertrude’s expression turned sorrowful. “Aye. Something very bad. Ye will be saving her from a terrible fate by—how is it ye put it? Popping into her body? Dying peacefully asleep in yer body is the only gift I can give Claire. Truthfully, my heart breaks for her. No lassie deserves to be sent away and forgotten. But as ye know now, I cannot interfere with her free will. What I can do is take this choice away from her and give it to ye.”

  “What should I do?”

  Gertrude laughed. “When ye get there, just go to bed. Ye’ll be awakened well before dawn for prayers. Regarding the bigger issue, I can’t interfere with yer decision either, my dear. However, if ye go to the home of Claire’s betrothed, ye will not need to make any excuse for not knowing anyone. If ye go to Claire’s home, it will be odd if ye didn’t remember certain people, but it could be explained away if that is yer choice. Either way, ye’re smart enough to figure out how to get along in the fourteenth century.”

  This was all so incredible, Cassie wasn’t completely sure she believed it. But, if she tried it and it didn’t work, no big deal. And if it did work…well, she had to try. “Okay, Gertrude. I’ll do it.”

  Gertrude smiled. “Good. I’m certain ye’ll be glad ye did. Just be sure to pick a word ye’re not likely to say by accident.”

  “What about…” Cassie glanced around, her eyes landing on the National Bohemian beer mats under the water glasses, and she smiled. “What about Natty Boh?”

  Gertrude arched a brow. “Natty Boh?”

  Cassie pointed to the beer mat. “Natty Boh. National Bohemian.” She grinned and shrugged. “It’s a Maryland thing.”

  Gertrude chuckled. “Perfect.”

  “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  Gertrude canted her head. “It’s always a good idea to remember that the universe unfolds as it should. Now, ye need to go to bed.” She rose from her seat and opened her arms. “Give me a hug, sweetling.”

  Cassie did, and once again was filled with profound warmth and an overwhelming sense that all was right with the world. “Will I see ye again?”

  Gertrude grinned. “Only time will tell, lass. Only time will tell.”

  Cassie laughed. “Let me just put the glasses away. I’ll have to unlock the door to let you out.” She carried the glasses a few steps to the busboy’s station and put them in one of the large grey bins. “There now,” she turned back to Gertrude, but the old woman was gone.

  Cassie looked at the watch in her hand, and said, “That really shouldn’t have surprised me, should it?” Then she laughed at herself for talking to the watch as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. It was well after midnight and she was exhausted.

  She walked into her bedroom, saw her laptop on the desk and chuckled. She was way too tired to do any Googling even if Gertrude hadn’t told her not to. But she couldn’t go to bed after an evening working in the bar without taking a quick shower. Still, she was in and out in five minutes. She started to pull on an old tee-shirt to sleep in, but stopped. She really didn’t think she’d decide to stay in the fourteenth century…but just in case, she put on a pair of nice pajamas.

  Then as she was climbing into bed, she thought of something else. She removed the key to her strong-box from her nightstand, opened the box that was under her bed, took some papers out and laid them on her desk before putting the box away again.

  She put the chain for the watch around her neck and got into bed. “Okay, here goes nothing. My return word is Natty Boh.” Then she curled up to go to sleep.

  Chapter 3

  Saint Avoca’s Abbey, Glen Elg

  The wee hours of the morning, August 12, 1342

  Claire Morrison sat in her chamber with her head in her hands, unable to sleep. She didn’t know what to do. Why couldn’t her brother just leave her alone? She liked living in the abbey. She could read or paint to her heart’s content. She was learning to play the clarsach. She loved her life here.

  Her father and Fearchar, her oldest brother, had died four months ago. It was probably sinful, but she hadn’t shed a tear for either of them. How could she grieve someone who she didn’t really know?

  She had no memories of Fearchar. He went away to train with Laird Fraser when she was a baby and she had been sent to the Abbey before he came home.

  Her brother Coll was laird now, but she only had vague memories of him. He was sent to train with Laird MacCauley when she was six.

  She did have wonderful memories of her sweet little brother Darrach. She’d adored him. He was only a year younger than her and they had been inseparable for most of their early lives.

  Of course she remembered her father. As a wee lassie, she had loved him with everything in her and believed he loved her too. But after he married again, when Claire was eight, it became clear that he didn’t love her. Not really. When his new wife didn’t want to be bothered with his children, Claire and Darrach had been sent away. Darrach went into training with the MacLeods and Claire had been sent to the abbey to be educated.

  She remembered begging and pleading with him to let her stay at home. But he ignored her. She was taken by boat from her home on Lewis to a port on Loch Alsh, and then over land a half a day’s journey south to Saint Avoca’s Abbey.

  When she first arrived she had prayed incessantly that her papa would miss her as much as she missed him and come to fetch her home.

  He never did.

  A pair of guardsmen came at least twice a year with a sizable offering to the Abbey, intended to pay for her care and education. But there was
never even the briefest note for her from her papa. Of course, she couldn’t read when she first arrived, but once she learned, she was so very proud of her accomplishment. She wrote letters to him often. Still, after a year or so with no replies, she stopped. She never saw her father or brothers again.

  But once she gave up hope of ever going home, she grew to love the Abbey and the nuns who lived there. They were her true family.

  She loved the abbey so much, after she turned eighteen in January, she’d spent many hours in prayer trying to discern if this was her calling, if she was meant to take vows and join the sisters who had become so dear to her. And yet, after all her contemplations, she still wasn’t sure if she was ready to make that commitment, but that didn’t mean she had to leave.

  Now, taking vows wasn’t even an option.

  Claire thought back to her discussion with the Mother Abbess late yesterday afternoon.

  When Claire had received the message that the Mother Abbess wanted to see her, she had been nervous, worried that Coll had sent yet another letter.

  After having heard nothing from her family in years, she had received four messages from him since April. The first one was simply to let her know her father had died. The second informed her that Fearchar too was dead and that Coll was Laird of Clan Morrison. In the third letter, Coll asked if she intended to take holy vows. After that letter, she wrote a brief message to him to say she hadn’t made that decision yet. Perhaps that had been a mistake because his last letter suggested that she come home for a while since she wasn’t planning to take vows immediately.

  Home? Castle Morrison? Nay that wasn’t her home and hadn’t been for ten long years. So she had wasted no time sending him a letter saying that she preferred to stay at Saint Avoca’s while attempting to discern her vocation.

  She had stood in the corridor outside the Mother Abbess’s office far too long worrying about these things. Knowing that inaction was not going to settle her fears, she finally summoned the courage to knock on the door.

  The Mother Abbess had called, “Ave.”

  Claire had entered and bowed low. “Good afternoon, Reverend Mother. You sent for me?”

  “Aye, Claire. Please sit down.”

  Claire did, keeping her head bowed and folding her hands in her lap. Even as anxious as she was, she would wait for the Mother Abbess to speak first.

  “Claire, my child, I have received another letter from Laird Morrison.”

  Claire sighed, looking up. “I feared as much.”

  The Mother Abbess smiled. “Why would ye fear hearing from yer brother, and laird?”

  “Because, after ten years of silence, letters from my brother never seem to contain good news.”

  “Well, this letter doesn’t contain bad news, but he has asked ye to make a decision.”

  “Reverend Mother, I’m not ready to make a decision yet. I don’t know what God is calling me to do.”

  “I understand that, my child. But Laird Morrison is not asking ye to make that particular decision at the moment. In fact, he believes because you came to us at such a young age, ye know nothing of the world you are considering leaving behind. He wants ye to leave the abbey for several months. Then if ye feel called to the religious life, he will return ye here with yer dowry and his blessing.”

  Claire huffed. “I don’t want to go to the Isle of Lewis or Castle Morrison. This is my home.”

  The Mother Abess frowned at her. “Claire, mind yer tone. I’m glad that ye were able to find a home here. We love ye very much. But yer brother’s plan has merit.”

  “But Reverend—”

  The Abbess put up one hand. “Nay, Claire. If ye wish to become one of us, ye must learn patience and obedience. Hear me out.”

  Claire bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Reverend Mother. I’ll listen.”

  “As I was saying, yer brother’s plan has merit. Ye yerself told me moments ago that ye don’t know what God is calling ye to do. And months of prayer and meditation have not made His will clearer. Spending time in a different environment may help. And yer brother has given ye two options.”

  “He doesn’t just want me to go to Castle Morrison?”

  “That is certainly one option. But he tells me that recently he has been in discussions with Laird Ranald, about a betrothal for ye to Tavish, his oldest son and heir.”

  “A betrothal?” Claire had practically shouted. “I don’t want to be married.”

  “Claire Morrison, ye will mind yer tongue and listen to what I have to say.”

  Chastised, she bowed her head again. “Aye, Reverend Mother. I’m sorry.”

  “Laird Morrison has only been discussing the possibility with Laird Ranald. Nothing has been decided yet. But he is giving ye the chance to meet the Ranalds. If ye don’t wish to go to Castle Morrison, ye can go to Castle Ranald. It’s on the coast, south of here, but not quite to the Isle of Mull.”

  Claire had taken a deep breath. “Reverend Mother, I don’t want to do either of those things. I want to stay here. Perhaps this is God making His will clear to me. I’ll take my holy vows.”

  That was when the final blow had come. The Abbess had shaken her head sadly. “I’m sorry, my child, that isn’t an option. If ye stay here against his wishes, Laird Morrison will no longer provide financial support for ye. And if ye choose to take vows without spending a few months away from the abbey, he will not give yer dowry to us. But aside from all of that, I do not believe that Our Lord wants ye to take holy vows out of desperation. That decision must be made calmly and with love.”

  “So, ye’re saying, I have to leave?”

  “Aye, child. Not forever, if taking vows is yer ultimate decision. But ye have to leave for a while. Ye may return to yer family’s home, or ye can go to Castle Ranald.”

  Maybe she could just postpone things a while. “Then, I’ll think about it all and pray for guidance over the next few weeks.”

  The Abbess had given her a small sad smile. “I’m sorry, Claire. Ye can pray about it this evening, but ye must make yer decision by morning. Yer brother sent guardsmen to escort ye to whichever place ye decide. Ye’ll leave early in the morning to journey to the port. A Morrison ship waits there to take ye to the destination ye choose.”

  “I have to leave tomorrow?”

  “Aye. Sister Mary Felicity will help ye pack yer things. In addition to the guardsmen, Angus will go with ye to the port with yer trunks and crates on the wagon.”

  Claire had been stunned. She had rushed around the desk and knelt at the Abbess’s feet. “Reverend Mother, I don’t want to do this. I can’t leave.” She lifted her face to the Abbess who she loved like a mother. “Please, Reverend Mother, there must be another way. Please let me stay.”

  The old woman had cradled Claire’s face in her hands. “Oh, my sweet child, I don’t want ye to leave either. But yer Laird requires it. And I know this much. After ye’ve left us for a while, if ye decide to return, it will be because ye’ve found the deep love of God required to take vows. If ye decide to stay at Castle Morrison, it will be because ye’ve found the love of yer family again. And if ye decide to accept the betrothal to Tavish Ranald, it will be because ye’ve found the love of a good man. Every possible outcome is wonderful in its own way.”

  Remembering the Mother Abbess’s words now brought tears to Claire’s eyes. She knew they were true. But every possible outcome meant that she had to leave the abbey in the morning and she simply wasn’t ready to do that.

  She looked around her chamber. Everything was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Her clothes and belongings had been packed and placed on the wagon, ready to go at first light. All that remained in the room was the furniture and her traveling clothes. This was her home. She had lived here longer than she had at Castle Morrison. She shouldn’t have to leave. Not like this.

  She crossed to the window and looked out past the courtyard and the gardens to the forests beyond their walls. And then it came to her. She could run away for a little while.
She could hide in the forests. It was August, there were plenty of edible plants to be found. She wouldn’t have to stay away forever. Just long enough for her brother to realize that he shouldn’t force her to leave her home. Aye, that would work.

  With that decided, she crossed the room, and put on the kirtle, stockings, shoes, and plaid she was planning to wear the next day. She opened her chamber door intending to peek into the hall.

  ~ * ~

  Cassie woke instantly and just as Gertrude had said, she was in a different body. It was the middle of the night, she was fully dressed, and her hand was on a heavy wooden door. “Oh, Claire,” Cassie said sadly, her voice sounding strange to her. “I’m so sorry.” Free will being what it was, Cassie had half hoped that Claire would have changed her mind at the last minute. But clearly, she hadn’t. Cassie’s only consolation was that the girl had been spared a terrible fate.

  She gently shut the door, removed her garments down to a slip-like undergarment that she knew was called a shift. The pocket watch hung heavily around her neck. She decided it was better to keep it on her person for the time being. Looking around at Claire’s bedchamber, she pinched her arm just to convince herself this was real. “I really am here.” She knew she should go to sleep but she couldn’t help going to the window to look outside. The moon cast a pale light over the abbey grounds and the mountains beyond. She looked up to the heavens and was simply amazed by the stars. Living amid modern light pollution, she had never seen a sky so full of stars. Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you, Gertrude,” she whispered. Then, just as Gertrude had instructed, she climbed into bed and went to sleep.

  All too soon, she woke to a gentle tapping at her door. “Claire, dear, dress and join us for Lauds before ye leave.”

  Cassie’s eyes flew open. Lauds? She was confused for a moment until she remembered the pocket watch and that she was in an abbey in the fourteenth century.

  Oh, right. Lauds was part of the Divine Office, the Liturgy of the Hours. It was a set of prayers and psalms that were said before dawn. She dressed quickly, wrapping the warm blanket-like garment around her shoulders, against the morning chill. She stepped into the corridor and joined the procession of silent nuns.

 

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