Her Rebellious Heart: A Scottish Historical Romance

by McBride, Marian

  Margaret's petulant voice broke in on her thoughts. “Well, you've got Aidan, and right in the same house with you. Wouldn't you call that luck?”

  “Yes, if I wanted him for my man it would be, but I am not interested in him or any other man at the present time.”

  “Maybe not, Bridget, but he wants you. I can tell the way he never takes his eyes off you. You should jump at the chance of him. I would, if he'd only give me a second look.”

  Bridget smiled to herself in the darkness and changed the subject to the happy time they had at the party, although she sensed Margaret was not in a very jovial mood. When she didn't answer a question put to her, Bridget realized her cousin had fallen asleep.

  Poor lass, she thought. She's all tired out from too much excitement and will probably feel better in the morning.

  Her mind turned to Aidan and how angry he had been when he left her a short time ago. She wondered now if she had been too hasty with him, but what was done was done and no recriminations or regrets could change a thing. Turning on her stomach and pushing her hands under the pillow, she sighed deeply and was soon asleep.

  Sometime in the night, Bridget awoke with the frightening feeling she was suffocating. Her face was being pushed hard into the feather mattress,and there seemed to be a dead weight on top of her, pressing her down. Terrified, the thought flashed through her mind, Oh God, someone is trying to do me in. If it is Aidan, I'll never get away from him, he's too strong, but Besse I might be able to dislodge.

  She was losing consciousness, her lungs felt like they were bursting. She started thrashing madly around and kicking her feet in desperation. Suddenly, she felt the pressure lessen slightly, and in her wild flailing, rolled off the bed onto the floor, hitting her head against the nightstand as she fell.

  Her eyes flew open as she sucked in a large amount of air. Her head throbbed. She touched her hand to her head, checking for blood. It didn't feel wet. As she lay gasping for air, taking desperate gulps, she wondered if she'd blacked out for a moment. Suddenly remembering why she'd rolled off her bed in the first place, her eyes darted frantically from side to side. She expected to feel her assailant come at her again, but there was no further attack. After a few moments, she cautiously sat up and looked around in the dim light. No one was there, but the door to the hallway stood open as if someone had left in a hurry. She looked across to the side of the bed where her cousin was still asleep, curled up in the fetal position that she always slept in.

  Bridget trembled. In her befuddled mind, she thought, Could that really have been Besse or Aidan? Or was it a nightmare from the food Robert had cautioned against eating so late?

  Frightened, she got up off the floor and closed the bedroom door, slipping the bolt into place. Listening for any sound and feeling completely unnerved, she lay back down in bed, but no sleep came for the rest of the night.

  As the light of day streaked across the sky, she heard the sounds of Robert getting the fire going in the downstairs parlor and Besse bustling around in the kitchen. Getting up slowly, still feeling shaken, she washed her face and hands in cold water from the pitcher on the nightstand that she had almost knocked over in the night.

  She dressed hurriedly, and then awakened Margaret before going downstairs to help Besse with the breakfast.

  Robert, reading by the fire, looked up as she came into the room.“Ah, good morning my dear. Did you have a good sleep?”

  “Oh fairly good, Robert,” she began, “but had a bit of a nightmare, I think. I've never experienced anything like that before and can't imagine what happened. I actually felt someone was trying to suffocate me. I struggled and ended up on the floor.”

  Her grandfather appeared incredulous, “You mean you feel out of bed, lass?”

  “Yes, I actually did, and slammed against the nightstand as I fell. It's a wonder I didn't wake everybody up.”

  Before they could have further discussion, the others came in for breakfast and Bridget busied herself helping Besse to serve. She scrutinized Besse closely but could see no sign of nervousness about her. She decided it wasn't Besse who had come into her room in the night, or else she was very good at hidings her feelings.

  If it wasn't Besse, could it possibly have been Aidan? He had been terribly angry with her when she turned him down the night before. But still, she didn't want to think this of him, although he did stand to lose a lot, if she became any more of a favorite with Robert MacDonald than she already was. She would have to be extra careful from now on and make sure to bolt her door before going to bed, something she had neglected to do while her cousin had been with her.

  Margaret, face swollen with sleep, seemed rather sullen as she sat down at the table. Bridget presumed she hadn't gotten over her disappointment at not being able to stay at Ty-Runach any longer.

  Bridget became aware of tension at the table when suddenly Robert said,“Did you ever fall out of bed before, Bridget?”

  “Grandfather,” she exclaimed, “how could you? I didn't want anyone else to know about it.”

  Much to her embarrassment Robert couldn't contain himself and laughed out loud.

  Aidan has a slight sneer on his face when he asked, “How could such a thing happen, Bridget? You never take a drink, so you couldn't have been tipsy. Come on tell us what it's all about.”

  Margaret gave her a dull look. “Why didn't I hear you, Bridget? Must have been quite a bump when you landed on the floor. Or are you just making that up?”

  Bridget, feeling very embarrassed by now, snapped, “Oh, let's forget the whole thing. I did roll out of bed but there wasn't any bump, Margaret, and I wasn't hurt. Like Robert said, we ate too much before going to bed, and it upset my stomach. I don't usually do that and wasn't used to it.”

  She looked across the table at Aidan who seemed highly amused, and thought she had better get along with their joking, so they wouldn't make too much fun of her.

  Grinning she said, “Anyone want some more tea or toast? I'll go get the teapot.”

  Her grandfather answered her with,“You eat something yourself, Bridget, you've hardly touched your breakfast.” She thought he sounded concerned.

  “I'm really not hungry, Robert.”

  Aidan had finished by this time and gotten up from the table to go to work. As he passed her chair he ruffled her hair with his hand, laughing with amusement.

  Making a valiant effort not to show how infuriated she was, she called after him,“Aidan, can Margaret and I come see your animals today before she goes home?”

  “Of course, Bridget, I told you anytime. Think you can get there without falling down?”

  She quickly knotted her serviette and threw it at him, missing him completely as he hurried away laughing heartily.

  Almost in tears, she cried out, “Oh, that man, I'd like to try choking him sometime.”

  “Now, now, Bridget, that's no way to talk, Aidan is only joking with you,” said Robert

  “Well, I don't like it and I don't have to listen to it.” Jumping up from the table, she ran upstairs to her room, banging the door shut. She fell on the bed crying violently.

  Besse came in from the kitchen upon hearing the loud voices and asked, “What's the matter wi' the lassie, sir? She doesn't seem to be herself today.”

  “I don't know, Besse, but this may be more serious than I thought. Margaret, you stay down here, I must have a talk with Bridget. Help Besse with the cleaning up,” he said with authority, his eyes a cold steely blue.

  Going upstairs, he knocked on Bridget's bedroom door before cautiously opening it. She was lying across the bed and sobbing softly. She looked up as he entered and sat on the bed beside her.

  “Oh, it's you, Grandfather, I thought it was Margaret,” she said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. She sat up then, legs dangling over the side of the bed, her eyes red from weeping. He put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Tell me now, lassie, what really happened last night? I can see it was a lot more serious tha
n any of us realized.”

  “Oh, Robert, I'm so ashamed I acted the way I did just now but in the night it really did feel like someone was trying to suffocate me. If I hadn't awakened when I did, I might have died. I didn't sleep all night afterward and was so out of sorts this morning I couldn't help being nasty when Aidan made fun of me. I'm so terribly sorry. Do you think he or Besse dislike me enough to try something like that?”

  “Now, now, lassie, that's utterly ridiculous. They have both grown to like you very much in the few months you have been here. You are overwrought because we were laughing about it, and I'm sure it was just a bad dream.”

  “I hope so, Grandfather, but it was very frightening and seemed so real. I hope it never happens again.”

  “All right now, lass, let's see a smile on your bonny face. Come down when you are ready and we'll go for a stroll in the fresh air. It's a beautiful day and we should take advantage of it. We don't get too many of them, as you well know.”

  “Robert, you are a dear man and always know the right thing to say. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, my child, but hurry now. Wash your face and get dressed before the day is half done.”

  Bridget laughed happily, much consoled now and decided it had been just a nightmarish experience she had in the night. Robert went down the stairs slowly, a worried look on his face. He thought to himself that certain people around the castle would bear close watching. He had never expected anything like this and didn't think Bridget would have made so much of it, if it were only a bad dream. He knew jealousy was a terrible thing and people had been driven to commit murder because of it. He must protect Bridget at all costs without her being aware of it.

  Going to the kitchen door, he said, “Besse, I'm going to the stables. Tell Miss Bridget to meet me there when she comes down.” Turning to Margaret, he asked,“Would you like to walk with your cousin and me?”

  “Oh, sir, if you don't mind I'd rather go to the stables and see the work they do with the horses.” She smiled shyly. “I also want to talk to Sandy before I go home.”

  “You may not find him with the animals, lass, I think he is due to take care of the machinery up in the lighthouse, but you suit yourself. I would like your time with us to be as happy as possible.”

  “Thank you, Mr. MacDonald, and I especially thank you for having me here.”

  “It was your cousin's idea, my dear, she thinks an awful lot of you.”

  “Yes, I know. She has always been very kind to me and I love her for it. She is so talented and beautiful, I wish I were more like her.”

  “Much of Bridget's beauty comes from within, Margaret. She has a good heart and is a fine person.”

  Margaret headed to the bedroom to dress as Robert went in the opposite direction.

  Chapter 8

  Bridget was ready to go meet her grandfather. As she went to the door to go downstairs, her cousin laid a restraining hand on her arm. “What was that talk all about it?” Margaret asked.

  “I'd rather not talk about it anymore, Margaret. I just had a bad dream.” She decided it would never do to let Margaret know of her suspicions, and whom she suspected. If she did, it would be all over town in no time.

  Margaret let her go and Bridget headed downstairs to the kitchen to see if there was anything she could do for Besse before going out. She found her in a most jovial mood.

  “Ah, Miss Bridget, you are a good lass, but thank you, no. I'm just fine, your cousin helped me with the cleaning up.”

  “That's fine, Besse. I don't want to give you one bit of extra work on our account. I'm going for a walk with Grandfather now.”

  “Wait, lassie,” she said. Going to the table, Besse picked up a small package. She handed it to Bridget, and said, “Here's a few biscuits to take with you, the sea air might make you hungry since you didn't eat very much this morning.”

  She looked at Bridget's wan face with an odd expression. “Thank you, Besse,” answered Bridget wondering if this was all part of an act.

  Then Margaret called out, “You ready to go, Bridget?”

  “Yes, cousin, let's be on our way. Robert is probably waiting for me.”

  The two girls were dressed in ankle length tartan skirts. Margaret's was topped with a red wool jersey, the color giving a bit of life to her rather colorless face. Bridget's jersey was white wool with a matching cap. She was in a joyous mood as she said, “I'm going to take off my shoes and stockings, and walk in the water when we get to the cove. What about you?”

  “I'm not going with you. I already told your grandfather I’m going to the stables to have a talk with Sandy, and he said it was all right.”

  “Well, it's all right with me too if that's what you want. This is your last day here, and you may as well enjoy it anyway you want.”

  “Oh, Bridget, couldn't I stay longer? I love it here so much.”

  “Afraid not, Margaret. You have had a nice visit and the longer you stay, the harder it will be for you to leave. You know you cannot stay here forever. Besides, I have been neglecting my music studies and must get back to them again.”

  Margaret's face was crest fallen, and although Bridget had compassion for her, she also thought, If this is how she is going to be, I shall not invite her again for a long time. She is taking far too many privileges just because we are related.

  Robert met them before they reached the stables, and as she went off with him Bridget jokingly admonished her cousin, “Don't get into mischief, now, and I'll see you a bit later.”

  Margaret said nothing, just looked at the receding figures of Bridget and Robert with a blank stare, and then headed for the stables in search of either Sandy or Aidan.

  Before they reached the water, Bridget spied Aidan astride a beautiful stallion and had to admire how well he sat his mount. He was walking the horse in the salty ocean water, and both animal and rider seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

  As she and her grandfather came closer, he walked the horse out of the water and came towards them. Bridget exclaimed excitedly, “What a beautiful creature, Aidan! I haven't seen him before. Did you just get him?”

  “No, lass, he was bred and raised here before you came to us. Then, he was sold to some folks out in the country, but has always been a bit wild and gave them lots of trouble. So, he came back to us.”

  “I would never sell him if he were mine, Aidan, he is such a bonny beast. May I pet her?”

  “He's a bit skittish, but maybe he will let you. Some people he takes to more than others.”

  She approached the animal timidly and laid her hand on his neck, murmuring softly to him.

  “I think he likes you, Bridget,” said Robert, “but be careful.”

  “Oh, Grandfather, I hope he likes me. I surely like him.”

  “Here, Bridget,” said Aidan, holding out his hand, “give him this sugar and you've made a friend.”

  He smiled down on her as she reached for it, his hand touching hers, bringing a warm, pleasurable feeling where he touched. She looked up into his smiling face momentarily. “How do I give it to him?”

  “Just hold it in the palm of your hand, and he'll pick it up.”

  She approached the horse again, holding out her hand. His big yellow teeth looked scary to her, but she held her ground, and he gently picked up the sugar lumps with his lips. When he was through crunching it, she put her hand on his neck and patted him.

  “Oh, you are a black beauty.”

  Robert and Aidan looked pleased and smiled to each other. Aidan spoke, “I have to take him back now, Bridget. enjoy your walk.”

  “Thank you, Aidan, we will. Robert, wait up a bit, I want to take off my shoes and stockings.”

  “Before you do that, lass, what say ye to taking a different road today, down by the rocks where the old wine tower stands?”

  “Let's do that. I've been wanting to ask you about that old building. No one seems to know much about it anymore, or what it was ever used for. Through the years it has
become just a legend.”

  “Well, lassie, all I know of it is, that it was built some time in the 1500's, the same time as the first castle was built on this site. The bottom part of the tower was used for wine and food storage, the upper floor was a sort of prison for any of the soldiers of the garrison who got into trouble. The story goes that the daughter of the laird of the castle fell in love with a common soldier, who was promptly put in the prison house. One night, she went there, sneaked past the guard and got in to see her lover. Knowing the dire consequences there would be when it was discovered, they took their own lives by jumping from the window onto the rocks below. And to this day our town sees to it that the rocks they were supposed to have fallen on are kept blood red by painting them. Makes a good attraction for visitors in town.”

  Bridget leaned against the wall that separated Robert's property from the location of the tower and looked at the twenty foot square building, now mostly covered by moss. Smilingly, she said, “Makes a good story, but that window I see is much too small for anyone to jump out of. Would it be safe to climb those crumbling stone steps and see if we can look inside?”

  Robert spoke vehemently, “No, lassie, that's one thing we shall leave strictly alone. It would be too dangerous and don't you ever try it. No one ever goes near the place as far as I know. It's just a legend now but makes a good landmark for passing ships.”

  Taking her arm, he said, “Let's get down off the rocks now and go back by the sand, I like that better.”

  “All right, Grandfather, then I shall go barefoot.”

  When they finished their walk and started back up the hill towards the castle, the bracing sea air had revived Bridget's spirits, and the events of the previous night were all but obliterated.

  As they neared home, she spied Margaret all alone and said to Robert, “Maybe I shouldn't have, but I promised Margaret we could go up in the lighthouse tower before she goes home, and since this is her last day, do you think we could this afternoon? I don't intend asking her back again in too big a hurry, but thought I could keep my promise to her about the lighthouse. I feel sorry for her, she has always been more or less rejected by most people, and I just want to bring a little happiness occasionally.”