For Auld Lang Syne [Cairngorm Dragons 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Clair de Lune

  “Janet, Janet, where is Dougie? I must go home this instant.” She jumped up and ran into the house.

  “He’s mending his nets by the shore yonder,” Janet said and pointed. Mairi told her all that she’d remembered. She said how grateful she was to them, but she must go home.

  “Och weel, Dougie can tak ye. Puir lassie and yer puir folk,” Janet said. She went down to the shore with Mairi and hugged her tightly before helping her into the boat, and then she and Dougie pushed it down the shore. He leaped into it, and Janet continued to push it out until she was up to her armpits in the cold waters of the loch. Mairi watched her and waved at her until Dougie rowed the boat around the headland and along the coast to her home.

  “Dougie,” she said.

  “Ay, lassie?”

  “My Hamish was in the boat with me. You didn’t find him, did you?”

  “Nae, lassie I found only your guid sel,” Dougie said sadly. When he told her that the waters were so deep and fast-flowing, and it could be a body would never be found, Mairi sobbed.

  “Oh. No. My Hamish is lost to me, forever.” Mairi struggled to comprehend what Dougie had said, and what it meant. I can’t find him with my mind, and now I’m not to have the comfort of a grave to visit. It’s too much to bear. No, I won’t believe it. There has to be some other explanation. Maybe he’s been hurt, too, and lost his memory and so he can’t reach me or me him. That’s it. That’s the explanation. I will get news of him when I reach home. He can’t be dead. He just can’t.

  When they reached the safe harbour of Portree, Mairi was impatient to get off the boat and find her folks. She waiting and fidgeted while Dougie moored the boat securely, and then she almost ran up the road from the harbour to her home. Dougie hung back, not wanting to enter the grand house in his fisherman’s clothes, but Mairi would have none of it. She opened the door and ushered him in. He stood in the hall, pulled off his woollen cap, and twisted it nervously in his hands.

  “Mother,” Mairi called. There was a shout of delight, and her mother ran down the stairs to gather her in her arms.

  “Mairi, my darling. You’re safe. Where have you been? What happened? Why didn’t you come home?”

  “Mother, this is Dougie. He’s a fisherman. Hamish and I were caught in the storm, and the boat capsized. I came to my senses on the beach, where Dougie found me. I had a blow to my head and I couldn’t remember anything, not even my name. Dougie took me in, and his wife, Janet, looked after me until my memory came back. Once it did, I knew you’d be worried, so Dougie brought me home,” Mairi said. It was a short explanation, but she was too weak and weary to say more. She saw with satisfaction that her mother shook Dougie’s hand and expressed her thanks. The servant was sent for in order to prepare a basket of food for Dougie, Janet, and the wee bairns. They weren’t wealthy, and her stay with them must have cost them dear in food. Even if she’d not been able to eat much, when you were merely surviving every mouthful was precious. Her mother would see to it that they got supplies from time to time. She was a generous person, and they had done their best for Mairi.

  When Dougie left with the servant, Mairi sat down, grateful to rest for a while as her head was swimming.

  “Mother, where’s Hamish? How is he? Was he hurt, too?” she asked eagerly. She’d been longing to get news of him. She’d convinced herself that he must be injured, and now she couldn’t wait for news.

  “My sweet, you must prepare yourself for a shock,” her mother said. Mairi felt sick.

  “Tell me, Mother. I can’t bear to wait any longer,” she said. She could hear in the tone of her own voice the desperation and disappointment she felt. She knew her mother heard it, too, because she took her hands and looked her in the eyes.

  “Hamish is missing. No one knows where he is. No one has seen him for days.”

  Mairi heard a roaring in her ears, and she knew no more. When she came to her senses, she was lying in her mother’s arms. She felt ill. Her mother held her close as Mairi struggled to understand what had happened. Hamish is missing. He must have been drowned, and I was with Dougie’s family and knew nothing. Now, I have to face the truth. I can no longer hold out and refuse to accept it.

  “When you didn’t come home, your father organised a search for you. Hamish’s mother told us he was missing, too. She said he’d gone out in a boat with you, so your father sent boats out along the coast in the direction the current flows in case you’d both been washed onto shore. No trace of either of you was found. We were all so worried,” her mother said.

  “I knew there was something wrong. I couldn’t hear him. I should have been able to hear him, and yet I couldn’t. I thought at first he must have been injured like me, and that was why,” Mairi said. She burst into tears. Her mother held her close, and Mairi sobbed until she was exhausted.

  “My dear, you must try to stop weeping. You have to get your health and strength back,” her mother said gently.

  “Are they still searching for Hamish? What’s being done?” Mairi asked, brushing aside her mother’s concerns.

  “My dear, they have nowhere else to search. There’s no sign of him and no use to keep on risking more men’s lives.”

  “If he had been from one of the first families…”

  “No, Mairi. That’s not so. Everything was done that needed to be done and could be done. They searched everywhere, and there was no trace of him. I’m so sorry, my dear,” her mother said.

  Mairi tore herself out of her mother’s arms and fled to her room. He can’t be dead. I can’t bear it if he’s dead. What shall I do? He’s my mate, my only mate. If he’s not here, I don’t want to live either. How can I go on alone? There will be no other. No one can ever replace him. My life is over.

  For the next few days Mairi ate and slept little. She kept to her room and wept often. After a week her mother spoke to her.

  “My dear, you can mourn your Hamish, but I won’t stand by and see you fall into a decline. Hamish wouldn’t want you to do that. He’d want you to be strong and face life without him. I want you to come downstairs with me now. There are chores to be done, and you will be better trying to do a little and getting back on your feet,” her mother said.

  “Mother, I can’t. Hamish is dead, and I don’t want to go on living without him,” Mairi said.

  “My dear girl, you can and you will. You’re strong, and I won’t let you give in like this,” her mother said.

  How can she ask me to do this? What’s left for me now? Nevertheless her mother’s word was law, and she did all that she was asked to do. There was no smile. She couldn’t bring herself to do that. She dragged herself up in the mornings, did her chores, ate what was put in front of her, and went to bed when told. When she began to be sick every morning, she thought at first it was some illness she’d contracted. Then her breasts became tender and she knew what ailed her. Now what am I going to do? I can’t conceal this. I have no man to marry me. What will become of me? She held onto her secret for a couple of days, and then she sought out her mother in the solar at a time when she’d be alone.

  “Mother, I have something to tell you,” she said.

  “Sit down, child, and tell me then,” her mother said with a smile on her face.

  She’s hoping for good news, and all I have is bad. She won’t smile on me when she knows. I’d better get it over with before someone interrupts us.

  “I am with child, Mother,” she blurted out.

  “What? Why didn’t you wait as you promised to do?” she asked, annoyance in her voice.

  “We did try, Mother, but in the end it was impossible. Our feelings carried us away.”

  “That’s a poor excuse. If you knew your feelings were so strong, it was up to you to avoid getting into situations where they would take over. Had you stayed within view of the settlement, it couldn’t have happened. Well, that’s as maybe. There’s no use talking about that now. It’s happened, and what we have to do is make the best of this situation,” her mother s
aid. She held out her hand, and Mairi took it, seating herself beside her mother.

  “Well, Mairi. What are you going to do, my dear? Here you are with child and Hamish missing, so there’s no man to marry you, not a decent man anyhow.”

  “Hamish was a shape-shifter,” Mairi offered.

  “Yes, but not one of the lords,” her mother countered.

  “He was well-connected across the water. He was a close friend of the next Braemuir.”

  “That won’t matter. He’s not here now, and there’s only your word to say that the child is his. What use are the connections of an absent man? It will be said that you are taking advantage of his absence to claim he’s the father,” her mother stated.

  “Do you think that?” Mairi asked, shocked.

  “No, my child, of course I don’t. If you say he is the father, I believe you, but others won’t. There are plenty of people who are envious of you and our position. They will be happy to cast doubt on your word and ruin your reputation. Well, you will just have to be absent for a while, have the baby in another settlement, and then give it up.”

  “Never. I will never give up Hamish’s baby! Never,” Mairi said vehemently.

  “How can you keep it?”

  “It’s a boy, and I will never ever let him go. He’s the only part of Hamish that I have left,” Mairi said with all the conviction she could muster.

  “That’s your decision?”

  “Yes, Mother, that’s my final decision.” Suddenly her mother seemed to accept the situation.

  “Well, Mairi, in that case you can’t stay here. You’ll have to go to the mainland. We will provide you some help and sufficient coin to maintain you and see that you don’t want. I hope this is the right decision and that you don’t live to regret it. You have to go. You will bring disgrace on our family. For the sake of your brother and sisters I must send you away.”

  Mairi was sorrowful. Is there no end to my loss? I’ve lost Hamish, and now I must leave my family. What have I got left? What is there to live for? How wicked I am. I have my child, Hamish’s child. I have to do the best I can for his sake. I have to bring him up the fine man his father was. He will know as much as I can tell him about his father. My mother says I must leave. Maybe she’s right. Everywhere I look there’s something to remind me of him and our time together. I think it’s best that I leave Skye. The memories too poignant. I will go to the mainland. Maybe Braemuir will believe my story and offer me his protection for the sake of his son’s friendship with Hamish. I dread to think of what will happen to me if he turns me away.

  Chapter Six

  It was all arranged so very quickly in the end. Her mother did all that was necessary, as Mairi wasn’t up to it. The story that they put about was that Mairi was weak from her ordeal and it was thought best to send her to friends on the mainland, and away from all the things that brought back unhappy memories. A middle-aged woman, by the name of Flora, was hired to live with Mairi. She was a sort of healer, skilled in the use of herbs, and would be more than welcome at the birth of the baby. Mairi liked her on sight.

  Dougie took her over in his small boat. She and Flora were taken by cart to meet Dougie, who sailed down the coast. The boat was full of bags and bundles, and the three of them were cramped. Mairi was queasy and sick all the way across, but, luckily, it was a very short crossing to the Kyle of Lochalsh, where he unloaded the boat and set off for the settlement to procure a cart and a guide. They were to stay with a cousin of Flora’s until they could find a suitable cottage.

  Dougie soon returned with a guide, and then he helped to transfer Mairi’s and Flora’s belongings onto the man’s cart. They said their farewells. Dougie promised to call and see how they were if he came over again, and then he was gone. The cart set in motion, and within an hour they were at Duncan’s home. He was Flora’s cousin and a large, gentle, shy man, who went by the name of Donald Og. As he was well into his fifties, Mairi supposed that his father must still be alive as “og” meant “young” in the old tongue. He had his servant unload the cart. Meanwhile he escorted them in to meet his wife. She was as small and lively as he was big and silent. She came forward with a smile on her face and hugged Flora.

  “‘S fhada bho nach fhaca mi thu, mo chridhe,” she said in the soft tones of the old tongue.

  “It’s a long time since I saw you, too, my dear Jeannie, but Mairi doesn’t have the Gaelic,” Flora said.

  “Gabhaibh mo leisgeul. I am sorry, my dear Mairi. Come away into the solar and take a hot drink and some bannocks with me. Donald, you can go back to what you were doing, my love. You won’t want to gossip with a parcel of womenfolk, now will you?”

  The huge man inclined his head and grinned at his diminutive wife, before turning on his heels and escaping. Mairi couldn’t think of a better word to describe the eager way he left the house, and she smiled.

  * * * *

  The next day Mairi decided she would go and see Braemuir. Flora was to go with her, and they were taken to the gates of the Caisteal in Donald’s cart. He assisted them to alight at the entrance to the castle. Mairi looked up the hill in amazement. She’d never seen anything like it. The large, square, stone-built structure was set into the hillside overlooking Boat of Garten. There was only one road up to it, so it was easily defended. They walked up to the large doors and pulled on the bell. A plump, smiling woman opened the door and to them.

  “Can we please see Braemuir?” Mairi asked.

  “May I know your name?” the woman asked.

  “Mairi NicMhàrtainn, and my friend is Flora NicDhuidh.”

  “And my I know what you wish to discuss with Braemuir?”

  “I wish to talk to him about Hamish Munroe,” Mairi said in a firm voice.

  “Very well, please wait here in the hall, and I will go and ask if he will see you,” the woman said.

  Mairi and Flora stood in the hall and waited. Mairi looked about her. The entrance hall was large and furnished with richly polished, old furniture. Straight opposite the front door was a wide, ornately carved staircase leading to the upper floor. In a short space of time a tall man returned and held out his hand in greeting.

  “I’m Braemuir. Which of you is Mairi?” he asked in a pleasant, deep voice. He had the air of command, which was not surprising as his ancestors had owned this part of the Highlands for generations. He wore the plaid wound around him and the end thrown over his shoulder in the time-honoured tradition. A huge brooch with a cabochon emerald and a golden dragon held it in place. He was six feet four inches tall. His muscular frame was broad at the shoulders and narrow at the waist and hips. He had long, lean, and powerful legs. His hair was long, and although tinged with gray at the temples, it was still mostly blue-black, and glossy. He wore it pulled back from his face and tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. He carried a huge broadsword at his hip. The cabochon emerald in the hilt matched the one at his shoulder.

  “I’m Mairi,” she said. And put up her chin as his eyes raked her person.

  “You mentioned Hamish Munroe?” he asked.

  “Yes, my lord. I have a matter to discuss with you in private.”

  “Very well, Mairi, come this way.” Braemuir led her to a door on the left. The room they entered was furnished with comfortable chairs, a huge sofa, low tables, and a couple of footstools. A log fire burned in the large, stone, inglenook fireplace, giving light and warmth. Shelves of books stretched from floor to ceiling. Many of them were very old, with tooled-leather spines. The rugs on the polished floorboards were dyed sheepskins. Braemuir walked over to the fireplace and pulled on an ornate rope hanging by its side, and within a few minutes, a pleasant, motherly woman appeared.

  “Something hot to drink for myself and my guests please, Sinead,” he said.

  “Certainly, sir.”

  When the hot drink had been brought, the two women settled in comfortable chairs by the fire.

  “Now, Mairi, tell me what you want of me,” Braemuir said.

/>   “I am bearing Hamish’s child. Hamish was lost at sea in a boat accident. I couldn’t remain on Skye, where every place reminded me of my lost love, so I came to the mainland. Hamish often spoke of your son, my lord. I need a safe place to live and rear his child. I was hoping that you might be so kind as to aid me,” Mairi said. As she began to explain, her confidence ebbed away. All this sounds strange to me. He’s not going to believe me. I haven’t mentioned marriage. He will know that Hamish was too young for the dragon-mating. He’ll have me thrown out. I ought never to have come here. I’d better leave now. As she was rising to her feet, Braemuir put out a hand to restrain her.

  “Please be seated, Mairi. Hamish was a good friend to my son, who will soon be Braemuir. I would like to help you. Do you wish to live in the middle of the settlement or in a more secluded spot?” As she’d already discussed the matter with Flora, she had an answer ready.

  “To begin with, until I learn the ways of this community, it would be best to live in a secluded spot. There I can bear my child and raise him until he is ready to take his place amongst the others of his age,” Mairi said.

  “A very wise decision. I have a small cottage which will be suitable for you for a few years. When you are ready to move to a more central position, you have only to ask. I have a few cottages that are empty as we have seasonal workers sometimes. Now finish your drinks and I will have my steward take you and your belongings to your new home. If there is anything you lack, you need only ask him.” Braemuir stood and pulled on the rope once again. This time there appeared a stocky man, with the brown skin of one used to working outdoors for most of the year. He removed his bonnet and bowed to his Clan Chieftain.

  “MacTavish, these two ladies will need to be conveyed to the cottage in the east wood. They have some belongings to be transported, and if they find they lack anything on their arrival at the cottage, you will oblige me by procuring it for them,” Braemuir said.