The Scottish Rose

by Jill Jones

  Duncan took her face in his hands. “You look beautiful,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “I love you, Taylor, and we’re going to make it through this, if it’s the last thing we do.”

  “It feels like it might be the last thing we do,” she replied. “Where are we, and what’s happening?”

  “We’re nearing the Ladysgate. We’re going to try to go through it.”

  Her face went totally white. “In this storm? In this boat? Duncan, what are you talking about? The thing is on land, at least in this lifetime.”

  “Mother Nature seems to be lending us a hand,” he replied with a mysterious smile, then explained that the storm tide was many feet above normal. For the first time, he saw hope light up her face.

  Then he laid out his plan.

  When the ship reached the point where Duncan felt it was endangered by the underwater rocks, he commanded the skipper to head into the wind and douse the sail, then drop anchor until they could safely get off the boat. “Your ship’s your own, again, Captain, but I must take th’ tender. I’ll leave it secured ashore,” Duncan said. “Unless,” he added jokingly, “ye wish t’ row us there.”

  Mr. Young straightened his shoulders. “I admire thy courage, Captain, although I do not understand thy actions. Take th’ tender. I wish you Godspeed.”

  It took two sailors to bring the small boat that had been trailing behind the larger vessel alongside, and Duncan made the treacherous descent into the bobbing skiff. The gunny-sack was lowered into the boat, then Mr. Young literally handed Pauley over the side and down into Duncan’s arms. It was obvious from his wide eyes and stiffened muscles the boy was terrified, but he made no effort to resist. Taylor, who had changed into her jeans and sneakers, climbed down the ladder with clenched jaw and white knuckles, but at last, all were safely aboard, and Duncan took the oars in his powerful arms. It would be a rough row in to shore, but adrenaline pumped in his veins, and he gave himself no option to fail.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” he heard Taylor exclaim when they were several yards away from the vessel.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she replied, a strange look on her face. “I just saw the name of the ship.”

  Duncan read the words painted on the ship’s stern in tall, ornate letters: Scottish Rose.

  Taylor’s earlier seasickness rolled into a tight ball of fear in her stomach when she stepped into the pitching dinghy. She pulled Pauley tightly against her, feeling reassurance in the human contact, even the thin body of this child, and wondering who was calming whom. This was insane! They would all surely die out here in the freezing waters of the North Sea. Duncan Fraser was as irresponsible, she believed at the moment, as Fergus McGehee.

  Turning to look back at the ship they had left behind, as if the sight of it would somehow quell her trepidation, she gasped in astonishment at the name on the stern. She’d never given any credence to coincidence, but this had her full attention.

  She had rescued the Scottish Rose for Mrs. Ogilvy, and now, another Scottish Rose, it seemed, might have rescued her.

  Taylor realized even as she pointed the name out to Duncan that she had never told him about the other Scottish Rose, or her midnight mission to secure it in the belly of the castle rock. Neither had she shared with him the photocopied letter which, although bedraggled from its experience, remained safely tucked away in the pouch. If they somehow miraculously survived this voyage, she would ask him about the rose chalice. Maybe he would know if it had ever been found. After all, she’d learned that it was a very real part of Scottish history.

  But for now, she had enough to think about just to stay alive and keep Pauley safe through the upcoming danger.

  “Look!” Duncan cried jubilantly. Over his shoulder, she could see the reason for his excitement, for where once it had been stranded on the sand, the Intrepid now floated on the tide.

  When they reached the shore, Duncan quickly pulled the tender up onto the beach and handed Taylor and Pauley out onto solid ground. Although her knees shook, her relief was enormous. But she knew they were far from being out of peril. She scanned the shoreline, looking for any sign of a sentry, in case Cromwell’s men had discovered the vessel and placed a guard around it. But there was no one in sight.

  “Stay here,” Duncan said, “I’ll be right back.”

  She watched as he tugged the small boat up onto the shore and secured the line around the same boulder from which he detached the bowline of the Intrepid.

  “Come on,” he shouted urgently, dashing to pick up Pauley and guiding Taylor to the iron ladder that led to the deck of the boat. They scrambled up the steps, and Taylor felt the boat floating free from shore. “Put these on,” he said, giving her two life jackets. “Sit here and hang onto Pauley.” He almost shoved Taylor onto a seat in the shelter of the pilot house of the boat. She wouldn’t have moved even if her terrified body had allowed her to do so.

  She saw him turn the key, then press a button for a few minutes, and was alarmed when nothing happened. But a buzzer sounded from somewhere, and Duncan’s face washed with relief. He pressed another button, and the engines roared to life. Pauley felt the vibrations, and he buried himself into Taylor. “Poor little guy,” she called to Duncan. “He’s scared out of his mind.”

  But she could tell Duncan’s mind was on other matters. The engines had not been used in months, and at first they sputtered and faltered. But after several attempts they began to hum with a steadier sound, and he shifted into reverse. “I just hope the water’s deep enough to get us out of here,” he muttered, almost to himself.

  “But what about…aren’t you going to try to go through the Ladysgate?”

  Duncan looked up at her, his face more serious than she’d ever seen it. “That’s what I mean. Out of here.”

  Taylor closed her eyes each time the boat scraped on a rock as Duncan steered as closely as he could to the land side of the granite arch. She tried not to think about Greta’s prediction that they would not be able to go back into their own time. Instead, she thought of her film crew being safe and sound in the warmth of the Hook and Eye Lounge Bar, of the bed she would sleep in at the inn. She thought of airplanes, and Manhattan, and taxicabs, dinner at Sardi’s. She remembered a playground near her apartment and pictured Pauley in a swing there.

  “Here we go,” Duncan called out, just before Taylor felt a strong surge take hold of the Intrepid. To her horror, the engines died again, but the boat continued to make way nonetheless. “Hold on,” he warned, grasping the wheel with all of his strength even though at the moment, he was not the one in control of the boat.

  The Ladysgate seemed to have an energy all its own. She felt the strength of its power like a rush of electricity shimmering through her body, and she feared for a moment that she was losing consciousness as darkness closed in around her. The smell and dampness of fog assailed her senses, and for an instant, she recalled that same sensation just before being thrown into the water from Fergus McGehee’s boat.

  Duncan continued to try to start the engines, but to no avail. The vessel pitched and rolled violently, sending the big man flying across the pilot house.

  “Damn!” he swore, but he righted himself immediately and returned to the helm.

  Pauley begin to cry. “Shhh,” Taylor whispered to his ears that could not hear, wishing she had some better way to comfort this terrified child. She pulled him onto her lap and kissed the top of his head, soothing his cheeks with her fingers. “It’s going to be all right. Everything’s going to be okay.” She signed “okay,” and he looked up at her with eyes swimming in tears, his expression clearly revealing that he did not think anything was “okay.”

  Suddenly, the waves calmed and the boat drifted in deathly silence. Duncan glanced uneasily at Taylor. “What happened to the storm?”

  She shrugged and said hopefully, “Went away?”

  He tried again to start the engines. They both fired on the first try. “Yes,” he ut
tered, “yes, baby.”

  She watched, her own terror subsiding, as Duncan Fraser checked the compass and punched buttons that lit friendly digital numbers on a small white box above the nav station. He shifted into gear. Slowly, he inched the throttle forward, and she felt the boat gain inertia, traveling easily across the waters. She held her breath, knowing that at any moment, they might strike a submerged boulder. But she allowed herself a small ray of hope, because their course was taking them directly out to sea, and behind them lay the Ladysgate.

  After more than ten minutes, Duncan slowed the boat and put it in idle. He stepped out of the protection of the pilot house to check the weather. “Taylor. Come here, and bring Pauley.”

  They followed him onto the aft deck, and Taylor looked at the sky in wonder. The heavens were crystal clear, with silvery stars sparkling against a pitch black firmament. Above them hung the brightest full moon she had ever seen.

  “We’ve gone somewhere other than where we were,” Duncan said at last. “A storm like that one doesn’t just dissipate in a matter of minutes.”

  “Do you…think we’ve come…home?” Taylor’s quiet question reflected his own mix of hope and fear.

  “I don’t know.” Duncan stepped back inside and picked up the radio transmitter. “This is the crew boat Intrepid, calling for a radio check. The vessel Intrepid, calling for a radio check.” His heart beat so hard in hopeful anticipation he thought it might explode through his chest. The airways were silent, except for the familiar scratchy sound of the open receiver—the sound that had completely disappeared when he had gone through the Ladysgate the other way. Did that mean…? But he didn’t have time to ponder further.

  “Crew boat Intrepid, this is RNLI Stonehaven. Do you read?”

  Hearing the message, Taylor dashed back inside with Pauley and threw her arms around Duncan. “We did it! We’re back!”

  Relief washed over him as solidly as the rain had doused him earlier, and he encircled Taylor and Pauley, kissing them and hugging them with all his might. “Yes, I think we’re back.”

  “RNLI Stonehaven, this is Intrepid. Switch to channel nineteen.” Quickly he moved the dial to a channel open for communication. “RNLI Stonehaven, this is the crew boat Intrepid. Do you read?”

  “Loud and clear, Duncan. Where the hell are you, man?” Andy McDowell’s brusque voice was brimming with undisguised anxiety. “Fergus McGehee’s met with some serious trouble, and one of his passengers, that American lady television producer, was washed overboard near the Ladysgate. Her crew is here about to fall apart with worry. According to McGehee, he almost lost his boat in the search for her. Have you heard about any of this on the radio? Where have you been for the last two days?”

  Duncan smiled down into Taylor’s tear-streaked face. “Tell everybody to relax,” he said. “She’s with me, and she’s safe. We’ll be in port in less than half an hour.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Robert Gordon put the last of the heavy legal books in the cardboard box and placed it outside the door to his office, marked for contribution to the law school from which he had graduated what seemed like eons ago. Once this business with Taylor Kincaid and the diary and old letter was cleared up, he was going to retire, at last.

  At one minute past ten, his phone rang, sending his heart rate soaring. Could John Doggett have finished his appraisal so quickly?

  “Gordon here. Yes. Yes, John. I see. Well, actually, yes I would. I can be there in half an hour.” He hung up the phone, his mind reeling. They were the genuine articles, according to Doggett. Gordon trusted the antiquarian’s judgment, even though he disapproved of the man’s reputation for some rather unscrupulous “placements” of some of Scotland’s most rare antiquities. But then, he thought, taking his umbrella and raincoat from the hall tree, glancing into his office one last time, turning out the light and closing the door behind him, who am I to disapprove of the way a man earns a living?

  Taylor wanted to kiss the dock when Duncan eased the bow of the Intrepid against the pilings. She was overjoyed to see Barry and Rob, who greeted her with unabashed enthusiasm, their voices scared and excited and relieved all at once. Fergus McGehee was nowhere in sight.

  “What happened?” Rob asked as they helped Taylor from the boat to the solid structure of the dock. “We looked all over for you.” He paused and frowned. “You look..different. Like you’ve lost weight. And your hair. Was it that long this morning?”

  She hugged them both tearfully. “You ask too many questions,” she laughed, realizing how different she must look. “I’m just so happy you two are okay. I’ve been worried sick…”

  “You’ve been worried!” Barry replied. “You were the one who went overboard. We searched for you all along the coast, clear until dark yesterday. We went with the helicopter search team today, but we couldn’t find any sign of you. I’ve never been so scared. Who picked you up?”

  Taylor turned and saw Duncan step out of the pilot house with Pauley in his arms. Her heart surged with love and gratitude for this man who had touched her life in so many ways. How could she ever explain any of it? Duncan came to stand beside her, the look in his eyes reflecting feelings as deep as her own, and she felt an unspoken bond tighten between them. “Welcome home,” he said wearily.

  “Glad you’re back, Duncan.” Andy McDowell finished securing the lines and ran to his friend and fellow RNLI rescuer, shaking his free hand. “When’d you grow the beard?” Then he saw Pauley. “Who’s the lad?”

  Taylor slipped her hand into Duncan’s. How would they ever explain Pauley?

  “It’s a long story,” Duncan replied, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’re calling him Pauley,” he replied, “and I’d bet right about now, he’s a hungry lad.”

  “When we got your message, we had Dave over at the Hook and Eye make up some hot coffee and sandwiches for you,” Andy said. “They’re inside.” He gestured for them to follow him back to the small shack. “I didn’t know about the lad, or I would’ve had him bring a soft drink or something.”

  A soft drink.

  Taylor thought about the implications of a can of soda. It was a modern day product. Familiar. A common commodity, something everyone took for granted. And yet, this child had never seen nor heard of a Coke or a Pepsi or a Dr. Pepper. He’d never had anything to drink other than milk and water, as far as she knew. Pauley’s first soft drink would be a Very Big Deal.

  For the first time, anxious doubts that they had done the right thing for him gnawed at Taylor. Pauley would be as out of place in this time as she and Duncan had been in his. Was it fair to thrust this frail, young child from a time long ago into a time so foreign to him it might scare him to death? A child who could not even ask questions about what was going on around him, or hear the answers?

  Her heart ached for all he faced, but there was no going back now.

  They entered the brightly lit RNLI station, and Taylor saw the fear and confusion on his little face, and how he clung desperately to Duncan’s neck. She also saw that Duncan did not try to disengage from his vise-grip, but instead patted him reassuringly on the back.

  Somehow, they would do right by Pauley. Duncan took a seat at the small table and set the child on his knee. “The lad can’t hear,” he said, taking a half sandwich and offering it to him, signing for him to eat. Pauley scrunched up his face and gave Duncan a what-the-hell-is-this sort of look, and Taylor had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. But she watched the child’s reaction when Duncan demonstrated how to eat a sandwich, and saw the look of surprised delight when he sunk his teeth into the crunchy white bread layered with ham and cheese.

  “Where’d he come from?” Andy wanted to know.

  “We…uh…just happened upon him,” Duncan began, flashing a look at Taylor that warned her not to go into the details of the trip through the Ladysgate. She smiled and gave him a slight nod, knowing that as fascinating a documentary as their adventure would make, she would never put it on tel
evision, for all the reasons Duncan had given her before, and for one very important reason that surmounted the rest…Pauley. She knew what would happen if tabloid TV got hold of a story about a boy from another century.

  “Does he come from around here?” Andy pressed.

  “He appeared very hungry and cold when we found him,” Duncan evaded the question between bites of his own sandwich. “My guess is he’s an orphan, or he’s strayed from one of the remote farms and couldn’t find his way back.”

  Taylor bit into her own sandwich which, after months of gruel and oats and other strange meals in their siege-starved existence, tasted divine. “We thought it would be better to bring him along than leave him to fend for himself.”

  “Shall I call for the authorities? They could take him to the children’s home until they find his parents.”

  Taylor knew Andy McDowell was only trying to help, but the thought of Pauley being turned over to people, no matter how well-meaning, who had no idea of his true background, turned her to stone. “No!” Her word was an overreaction, and it brought startled stares from Barry and Rob, who had sat quietly by until now, content to let the refugees eat and rest.

  “What are you going to do,” Rob said with a cynical grin, knowing of Taylor’s adamantly single lifestyle. “Adopt him?”

  Duncan came to her rescue, which seemed as if it was becoming a habit. “I’ll call the authorities in the morning, Andy,” he said quietly, tousling the boy’s hair. “But I think he’s had quite enough adventure for one day. We’ll…I’ll keep him at my house tonight.”

  The young men didn’t miss his slip-up. They exchanged quick glances, then Rob stood up, faking a yawn. “Well, now that we’re all safe and sound, what’s say we go back to the hotel and catch some zzzs?”

  Barry snickered. “Yeah. Right. Think I’ll do some darts at the Hook and Eye. Wanna come, Taylor?”

  To her dismay, Taylor flushed. She hadn’t made plans for what she would do once the Intrepid brought them back to Stonehaven, much less what she would do with the rest of her life. But throwing darts with these two “lads” held no appeal whatsoever.