The Gift: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  This was nothing short of amazing. She was walking through the halls of a medieval abbey, on her way to Lauds with the nuns. And after that she’d be off on an adventure.

  Lauds was beautiful. Cassie hadn’t really gone to church since she graduated from high school. Perhaps it was part of her rebellion. She smiled, thinking she’d probably make up for all of those skipped Masses now. She knew medieval lives revolved around the Church. Still, it didn’t bother her. This morning, she had quite enjoyed the liturgy. She’d forgotten the peace that could be found in worship.

  After the liturgy ended, the older woman who had led the prayers approached Cassie and hugged her.

  “Good morning, Claire.”

  Claire had heard her addressed as “Reverend Mother” so she figured that was safe. “Good morning, Reverend Mother.”

  “Are ye a little less upset this morning?”

  “Aye,” said Cassie.

  “And have ye made yer decision, child?”

  Darn, she had forgotten about that and hadn’t yet. But Gertrude had made a good point about how going to Castle Ranald would be easier in some ways because she didn’t know anyone there anyway.

  The Mother Abbess canted her head, considering Claire for a moment. “Ye must have. Ye seem different this morning. Calmer.”

  Cassie nodded, knowing she was more different than the dear lady could imagine. “Aye, Reverend Mother. I’ve made my decision. I will go to Castle Ranald.”

  The old woman smiled and nodded. “I think that is an excellent choice. It will give ye the chance to see what would be expected of ye as a laird’s wife and to determine if ye want to meet that challenge.”

  Cassie smiled. “Reverend Mother, what would ye have said if I said my choice was to go to Castle Morrison?”

  The woman smiled slyly and nodded. “Ye’re very clever, my child. I’d have said, I think that is an excellent choice. It will give ye the chance to reconnect with yer family and clan. Once ye get home, I’m sure ye’ll feel the love that has always been there for ye.”

  Cassie laughed. “I thought as much.”

  The Abbess beamed at her. “Well, truly, there is no wrong choice. Ye’ll end up back here if that is where ye’re meant to be. Now, let’s join the sisters in the refectory. We’ll break our fast a bit earlier than we normally would because the sisters all want to bid ye farewell.”

  Breakfast consisted of broth, bread, and some cheese and it was over quickly. Cassie was hugged and wished well by all of the sisters. It was a relief when she realized that she could just address everyone as “Sister” and didn’t have to worry about not knowing their names.

  After all the farewells were said, the Mother Abbess walked outside with her. Two large warriors waited with a somewhat stooped, older man. Two horses were saddled and a third was harnessed to a small wagon.

  The Mother Abbess said, “I don’t know if ye remember these men or not. They’ve been here a few times. This is Sir Gordon and Sir Conan, they are two of yer brother’s guardsmen.” She motioned to each of them as she introduced them.

  Almost in unison they said, “Good morning, Lady Claire.”

  A little thrill bubbled inside Cassie. She was Lady Claire. “Good morning, Sirs.”

  Gordon was a very handsome man who appeared to be in his late forties. Conan was about the same age, but he had what appeared to be burn scars on one side of his face.

  “Gentlemen, Claire has decided to go to Castle Ranald.”

  Gordon nodded. “Good. I think ye’ll find the Ranalds to be very fine people. I’ve met Tavish on several occasions and he’s a good man. I’m glad ye’re giving him a chance.”

  Not sure what to say, Cassie just smiled and nodded.

  The Mother Abbess turned to her. “Well, my child, it’s time for me to say farewell too. I will miss ye terribly. And regardless of whatever yer decision is, I hope someday ye return to us even if it is just for a visit.”

  The older woman gathered Cassie in her arms for a hug.

  “Thank ye, Reverend Mother.”

  The Mother Abbess stepped back, quickly wiping tears from her cheeks. “Now, let Angus help ye onto the wagon seat and the lot of ye will be off.”

  Once they were finally on the road, Cassie could hardly contain her excitement about the journey. In her own time, she had been working on her Bachelor’s degree in History and the medieval period was her favorite. But for her, history had never been about memorizing dates and timelines. She loved understanding the whys—what political, economic, or social climates led to certain things happening. But social history—how people lived—was perhaps her favorite topic. And now she was going to experience it firsthand. She wanted to talk to these men, and learn as much as she could.

  Finally she screwed up enough courage to speak to them. “May I ask ye a question?”

  She didn’t direct it to any one of them particularly, but Gordon answered.

  “Aye, my lady, certainly.”

  “How long will it take to reach Castle Ranald?”

  “We’ll reach the port shortly after midday. One of yer brother’s ships awaits us there. We’ll load yer belongings and leave on the high tide, which should be about three hours after we arrive. If we have decent winds, it will take three to four hours to reach our destination.”

  Conan said, “However, if the winds go fluky or still altogether, it could take a good deal longer.”

  Gordon scowled at him. “Always the optimist, aren’t ye, Conan? My lady, fluky winds are light and variable. Ye can’t really sail in them. But it’s August and since we are sailing in the evening, it’s likely we’ll get a land breeze that will keep us moving.”

  Cassie smiled. She lived in Maryland and Tom’s family had a small sailboat. She had understood exactly what Conan had said. They’d been caught in fluky winds on the Chesapeake before. But their boat also had a motor, so they’d never been truly stuck.

  “And once we make port, how long will it take to get to Castle Ranald?”

  Gordon answered. “Castle Ranald is near the sea. We’ll sail into an inlet not far from it and drop anchor near the village. Ye’ll be able to see the castle from there. After that, it’s just a short ride up to it.”

  “Oh my, then if the winds are in our favor, we could be there this evening?”

  “Aye, my lady, we could. However, since ye were given the option of going to Castle Ranald or going home, yer brother was unable to tell them exactly when to expect us or even if we were coming at all. Once we’ve dropped anchor, I’ll send a messenger to the castle to tell them we’ll arrive tomorrow. We’ll stay aboard the ship tonight.”

  “Oh,” said Cassie, but she couldn’t suppress a smile. She loved sleeping on board a boat.

  Gordon cocked his head and looked at her, a small smile playing at his lips. “My lady, ye seem happy, almost excited. Yesterday, the Abbess told us ye were very upset with yer brother’s request.”

  She supposed she should have played the part a little better, at least for a while, but she was excited. Go with the truth, Cassie. “Yesterday I was upset. The abbey is my home. I wasn’t at all happy at being forced to leave it. But last night I had a change of heart.” Or soul. “After all, it isn’t forever. In a few months I can go back if I want to. So I decided to look on it as an adventure instead of an annoyance and do my best to enjoy it.”

  Conan glanced back at her. He seemed to be smiling, but it didn’t soften his fierce appearance much. “That was an excellent decision, my lady. No amount of kicking and screaming was going to change this situation. Better to make the best of it. And ye’re right. If in the end, ye decide ye want to return to the Abbey to take vows, I’m certain the Laird will not stand in yer way.”

  “He does love ye, my lady. He and Darach both do,” said Gordon.

  Darach was the little brother who had been sent away at about the same time Claire was. Gertrude had told her about him. “Has Darach finished his training with the MacLeods yet?”

  “
Nay,” said Conan. “But that’s not because the laird doesn’t want him to come back. Like ye did at the abbey, Darach made his home there. But he’s coming around a bit too.”

  “That’s good.” Cassie didn’t know what else to say. She did understand what it was like to be shunted to the side by one’s parents. She had been passed off to nannies and then boarding school. But she was able to make some of her own choices once she was older—even though when she did, it always seemed to piss off her parents. But it did sound like Coll was trying to be considerate of his younger siblings.

  After that, Conan and Gordon told her news about many of the clansmen and women who Claire would have known. Cassie was able to learn quite a bit about the Morrisons that way. She remembered what Gertrude had said about it being a bit harder for her to go where Claire knew more people but it would have been manageable. Cassie knew now that she could have faked it long enough to learn what was necessary had she elected to go to Castle Morrison.

  Chapter 4

  Tavish Ranald had trouble reining in his temper. “Da, when exactly were ye going to tell me about this betrothal ye seek?”

  “I’m telling ye about it now.”

  “Ye don’t think at least mentioning it before the lass in question was sitting on a ship in our harbor would have been reasonable?”

  “And why would I have done that? Every time I have discussed a possible betrothal with ye for the last ten years, ye’ve found every reason under the sun to dismiss it out of hand.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.”

  “It isn’t, son. Then too, Coll Morrison is concerned about her happiness and wanted to give her the choice as to whether she came here or not. He wasn’t sure what her decision would be and I decided there was no reason to start an argument with ye if she wasn’t willing either.”

  “I don’t understand. How could he not know what her decision would be? He’s her laird isn’t he? Didn’t he just tell her?”

  “It wasn’t quite that simple, Tavish. Ten years ago, their father, the old laird, sent Claire to be educated at an abbey—Saint Avoca’s Abbey, near Glen Elg and she hasn’t been home since. Coll has tried to be diplomatic, but reading between the lines, I think Laird Morrison’s second wife wanted rid of his children by his first wife. At the same time he sent his youngest son into training. He was but seven years old and Claire was only eight.”

  “Why did he leave her there this long? Didn’t his second wife pass away years ago?”

  “Aye, she did and I don’t know why Laird Morrison didn’t bring Claire home then. I suspect he thought she was happy—or at least he wanted to believe that.”

  “And now the new laird wants to marry her off instead of bringing her home?”

  “Tavish, that’s not his intention. He just wants her to experience life outside of the abbey before she makes a permanent decision to stay there. And he gave her a choice between here and her home. That’s why he didn’t know her answer ahead of time.”

  “Da, I don’t want a betrothal. Not now. Not yet.”

  “Ye’re twenty-five and have a duty to this clan.”

  “I know my duty, ye needn’t remind me of that.”

  “Then why are ye so opposed to this?”

  Tavish shook his head and turned away. He didn’t want to discuss this with his father.

  “Is there someone else, lad?”

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping. Da was far too perceptive. Indeed there was someone else, but Tavish would never tell his father about her. He couldn’t possibly understand. “Aye,” was Tavish’s only answer.

  “Who is she, lad? Maybe we can try—”

  “Nay, Da. It’s impossible.”

  “Why? Who is she?”

  His brain scrambled to find a suitable explanation. Perhaps it was because the Morrisons were from Lewis, but his thoughts landed on the Macauleys, another Lewis clan. “Layla Macauley,” he lied. He had trained with Layla’s brother Bennett under Laird Matheson.

  His father’s brow furrowed. “Layla Macauley? I wasn’t aware ye’d ever met her.”

  “Well I have. She’s lovely and sweet.” That was true. “And betrothed to Aiden MacKay.”

  “Ah, well that is unfortunate.”

  “Aye. Unfortunate.” It was as good a word as any.

  “Son, there’s nothing to be done about that then.”

  “Perhaps not, but until she actually marries him…”

  “The betrothal might be broken? Ye know that’s not likely.”

  “Still, I’m not ready to give up.”

  His father shook his head. “I understand that, but it’s a vain hope ye cling to. Ye need to face that fact and focus on finding a bride who is available to ye. And to that end, we have a guest to meet.”

  “Fine. But she’s yer guest, Da. Not mine.”

  “Nay, son, she is our guest. You will be courteous and make an effort to get to know her. I am not summarily dismissing this betrothal simply because ye’re being stubborn.”

  “I’m not being stubborn. I’m asking ye not to risk her feelings by suggesting that a betrothal between us is possible. It isn’t.” He practically shouted at his father.

  “Mind yer tone with me, son. If I decide ye will marry Claire Morrison, ye will marry Claire Morrison. Make no mistake.”

  Frustrated, Tavish crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled.

  His father arched a brow at him. “Do ye understand me?”

  “I understand ye.” But that didn’t mean Tavish wouldn’t do what was necessary to discourage the lass. By all accounts, her brother wanted to ensure her happiness. He wouldn’t be likely to agree to a betrothal if Claire herself is opposed to it.

  “Then ye’ll come with me and yer mother to greet her.”

  “Whatever ye wish, Father.” There was no avoiding it anyway.

  And so it was that within the hour Tavish, his mother, father, and younger brother, Boyd, rode out of Castle Ranald and down to the village to meet their visitor. A wagon into which her belongings would be loaded followed in their wake.

  When they arrived at the waterfront, several crates holding her things had already been brought ashore and were loaded into the wagon while they awaited the lass herself.

  He couldn’t see much of her at first. Her back was to the shore as men rowed a tender from Laird Morrison’s ship. Her plaid was pulled over her head. It was a cool day and the sky threatened rain.

  When they reached the shore, and the men beached the tender, one of the Morrison guardsmen lifted her from the boat and carried her to dry ground. When he put her down, she turned towards the Ranalds and her plaid slipped to her shoulders.

  Tavish wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected. She’d lived in an abbey for ten years so he’d made the assumption that she would be mousy and plain.

  She was anything but.

  Claire Morrison was beautiful. Slender and of average height for a woman, thick dark tresses curled around her shoulders. Her fair, creamy skin appeared to be as smooth and soft as rose petals. But perhaps he only thought that because of the rosy hue of her cheeks. She smiled shyly as her guardsmen led her towards them to introduce her.

  “Laird and Lady Ranald, it is good to see ye again. Laird Morrison sends ye his very best regards.”

  Tavish’s father nodded. “Thank ye, Sir Gordon. ’Tis good to see ye too.”

  Sir Gordon took a step back and motioned for his lady to step forward, “Laird and Lady Ranald, it is my honor to present Lady Claire Morrison. Lady Claire, these are yer hosts, Laird and Lady Ranald.”

  His father bowed graciously over her hand. “Welcome, Lady Claire. It is our pleasure to meet ye.”

  The color rose in Lady Claire’s face as she curtsied. “Thank ye, Laird.”

  His mother stepped forward too, kissing her on each cheek. “Aye, Lady Claire, ye are most welcome.”

  “It’s lovely to meet ye, my lady. And, please, just call me Claire.” Her voice was soft and sweet.

  �
��Claire, then. We are so pleased ye’ve decided to join us for a visit.”

  “Thank ye, my lady. ’Twas very kind of ye to invite me here.”

  His father took their guest by the elbow, guiding her towards Tavish. “Lady Claire, this is my eldest son, Tavish.”

  Their eyes met and he was momentarily lost in their bright blue depths. It awakened something deep within him that took his breath away until she lowered her sooty lashes, breaking his gaze. Remembering himself, he bowed. “Lady Claire.”

  She curtsied to him. “I’m pleased to meet ye, Sir Tavish.”

  “The pleasure is mine, my lady,” he answered, surprised to find he meant those words.

  “Likewise. And I’m just Claire,” she said shyly.

  “Then ye must call me Tavish.”

  His father continued the introductions. “And this is my youngest son, Boyd.”

  Boyd too bowed, looking slightly awkward. Lady Claire smiled warmly at him. “It is lovely to meet ye, Boyd.”

  He blushed and avoided looking her in the eye. “Aye, it’s nice to meet ye too. We’ve never had a lassie come to stay.”

  She smiled a little more broadly. “Nay? Well, I hope I’ll not be too much of a bother.”

  The lad finally peered up at her. “Oh, nay. Ye won’t be a bother.” Immediately his cheeks turned crimson and he looked away again. “Um…do ye like dogs?”

  Now Claire chuckled. “I do. Very much.”

  “I have a dog named Tiny. He’s a wolfhound.”

  “A wolfhound named Tiny? They are rather large beasties, aren’t they?”

  “Aye, but his mother only had the one puppy and he was really small and weak. Bede, he’s our stable master, he said not to get attached to him because he wasn’t likely to live. So we didn’t give him a real name. We just called him Tiny. But his mother took really good care of him. Bede figured it was because she only had the one. By the time it was clear he was going to live, the name had kind of stuck.”