“Me too,” Thomas said, appearing at the top of the stairs. “Which one is ma room?”
“We thought you’d be sleeping outside in the stable,” Tavish replied.
Thomas stuck his tongue out before starting to giggle as his parents ran up the stairs after him. Lindsey stopped halfway, putting her hand on her stomach and wincing.
“Are you all right?” Tavish said, looking back down at her. “Is it coming?”
“At five months? I should hope not. I just need to remember I cannae run anymore.”
“You’re starting to sound a wee bit Scottish, ye ken?”
“Och, get away with your blether. Now where’s that boy of ours, I believe he needs tickling.”
A rewarding shriek was heard as the bairn hid from view in the bedroom, poking his head out from behind the curtain. Tavish scooped him into his arms and collapsed on the bed with him, Lindsey joining them a second later.
“What do you think about having a little brother or sister?” she asked. “Think you’ll want to share a room with them?”
“Aye, then ah can teach them how to use a sword.”
Tavish laughed. “It might be a few years before they’re ready for that. Now, come on. We can’t stay here all day. There are people waiting for us in Tavistock.”
They headed downstairs together, making their way outside into the sunshine. Tavish glanced back at the house as they walked away.
It was finally done. There were times when it felt like it would never be finished but the craftsmen had worked hard, putting as much effort into renovating as they had into rebuilding the village.
They crested the hill and looked down. It was different again to the last time he paid a visit.
The charred earth was gone. Three years had seen lush grass grow where once was scorched nothing. The ruined buildings were gone, new ones going up fast. Another year and the place would be finished.
Surrounding the village were enclosures of cattle and sheep, past them strip fields of wheat, peas, and oats. It filled his heart to see it.
“None of this would have happened without you,” he said, taking Lindsey in his arms while Thomas ran on ahead to Fingal who was waving from the village green.
“I didn’t do anything much.”
“Apart from get the sacred stone back and bring peace to the Highlands so we dinnae need to worry about being attacked. Other than that, you did nothing at all.”
“Are you two coming?” Fingal shouted, lifting Thomas into his arms and kissing his forehead. “The laird of the MacIntyres gets here on time after a week’s journey and yet you manage to be late. Come on, everyone’s waiting.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you it’ll have to be different after you’re laird,” Lindsey said.
“I know. This morning he said it was because my baldric was twisted. I dinnae ken he’s any happier than when he’s cursing me for not taking this laird thing seriously enough.”
“He’s just worried for your people.”
“Aye, I ken. He wants the clan to like me.”
“They already do. Come on, before he has a heart attack.”
Tavish slipped his hand into Lindsey’s and together they walked through the village. At the entrance of the chapel they stopped. Fingal had already taken Thomas inside.
The porch was held up by two tall columns of stone. Onto each Celtic symbols swirled and shifted like real things, coalescing in the lintel where an intricate S symbol had been carved. “You got it finished in time then,” Tavish said. “I wasnae sure ye would.”
“You think a little thing like being pregnant would stop me finishing that?” she replied. “Shame on you.”
“The apprentices helped, didn’t they?”
“Maybe a little bit but that S is all me.”
“I can tell. It looks perfect.”
They walked inside to find the place packed. The MacIntyres were over to the left, their laird talking to the laird of Clan Sinclair, the two of them laughing together. Beside them, Merida looking as well as any bairn, her parents glowing with life as they doted over her.
Billy, Jock, and Matthew nodded to Tavish as Quinn moved to stand before the altar. He held up a hand. “If you wouldnae mind looking this way.” The place gradually fell silent.
“Today we all come together to rededicate this chapel as a place of worship and peace.”
Tavish glanced past Quinn at the alcove underneath the window. There were the dried bluebells Lindsey had gathered what seemed like a lifetime ago.
In the middle of the circle of flowers was the carving she’d done for him, the one that told him what he already knew, she was the right woman for him, the only woman for him in fact.
He tuned back into Quinn’s speech in time to hear the dedication. “This church is named for Princess Margaret, may she rest in peace. The sacred stone resides here in the center of the altar as God’s love resides in the center of all our hearts this day. God’s love will protect the chapel of Princess Margaret, the village of Tavistock, the clan of Sinclair and…”
Thomas suddenly crashed into his leg. He swooped the bairn into his arms, laughing as he did so. “And the future.”
Everyone cheered and Thomas waved, not sure why they were all cheering him but loving the attention.
As the crowd filed outside the chapel, Tavish and Lindsey waited. The laird of the MacIntyres solemnly shook both their hands as he passed before leaving them alone with Quinn and Thomas.
“This one will be trouble,” Quinn said, setting Thomas back on his feet. “You’ll have your work cut out with him.”
“You mean you will,” Tavish replied. “If you’re going to tutor him, you better get used to that energy.”
“Want to play?” Thomas asked, tugging at Quinn’s hand and trying to pull him outside. “I can roll twice backward without getting dizzy.”
“Come on,” Lindsey said, “Show me that tree you like climbing.” She walked outside with him. Tavish watched them go, unable to stop smiling.
“It is good to see you happy,” Quinn said. “Is she well?”
“Aye,” Tavish replied. “Though she wonders about her mother sometimes.”
“No doubt she does. Has she any doubts about staying?”
“No, nothing like that. She just wishes she could find out if her mom uncovered the locket.”
“The Highlands have ways of helping those who wish hard enough,” Quinn said, walking down the aisle to the chapel door. “Are you coming?”
“In a moment,” Tavish replied. When he was alone, he walked behind the altar to the carving, pressing his finger to the figurine. “I think you would have liked her,” he said quietly. “I hope you are at peace, mother.”
Turning, he headed outside, finding Lindsey sitting on the grass while Thomas clambered over the low branches of the one tree that survived the fire, an old oak that he had climbed in just the same way when he was little.
He settled on the grass with his wife and together they enjoyed the last of the afternoon sun while the feast was prepared at the long tables over at the far end of the village green.
The meal took most of the day to eat and by the evening Tavish was full to bursting. He walked back with Lindsey and Thomas to their house, putting their son to bed for the first time in the room where he’d grown up.
It felt odd seeing him settle in the spot he had grown up but it also felt right, like it could not be any other way.
Lindsey was asleep soon after, Tavish lying beside her and waiting for sleep to come. When he did, he was surprised by his dream. He was outside the house, but it was different.
There was a strange carriage beside the door, but he barely had a chance to look at it before he was swept inside. There was someone inside, but it wasn’t Lindsey. She was next to him, appearing out of nowhere.
Taking her hand he walked into the living room and there was a woman with gray hair and a bright red cardigan sitting beside the fireplace.
In her lap,
Thomas was sitting playing with a carved wooden doll.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the woman said. “Your son is beautiful.” Mist began swirling in through the window, surrounding the woman, swallowing her ankles. “Is this your husband?”
“Aye,” Lindsey said. “Mom, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t-”
Her mom interrupted. “I love you too and you’ve nothing to be sorry for.” She looked sorrowfully down at the mist shifting up her calves. “There isn’t much time. Go, live your life. I’m glad you found happiness with such a good man.”
“Mom,” Lindsey continued, trying to push the mist away that grew thicker, obscuring her from Tavish’s view. “I hid the locket. Did you find it? I was so worried you’d been thrown out.”
“What’s your son’s name?” The voice came through thick fog. Tavish could see nothing, the mist had already swallowed him up.
“He’s called Thomas,” he said, not sure if she heard him and then he was sitting upright in bed. He turned, surprised to find Lindsey was not only awake but in tears.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
“I dreamed about my mom,” she replied. “She was right here.”
“Or maybe we were there,” he said, taking her in his arms.
“We? Did you? You can’t have dreamed the same thing. That’s impossible.”
“She was downstairs with Thomas in her lap, right?”
She looked at him in the darkness, a frown spreading across her face. “But how?”
“I think Quinn might have had something to do with it. Come, settle with me.”
“Do you think I’ll ever see her again?”
“I have no doubt you will but not yet, not unless you want to go back home after all.”
“I told you before, I am home. This is my home, here with you.”
“You’re happy then?”
She kissed his cheek, nestling into the crook of his arm. “I have a perfect husband and-”
A loud belch from the next bedroom echoed loudly.
Lindsey stifled a laugh. “And an almost perfect son who might perhaps have eaten a bit too much at dinner.”
Tavish let his eyes close. He could smell Lindsey’s delectable scent in the darkness and there was no finer perfume in the entire world.
Soon they were both asleep once more and then the only sound was that of an owl hooting on the roof above them. It spotted a mouse in the distance and, with a flap of enormous white wings, it took off in pursuit, vanishing into the darkness.
The End
What did Lindsey write in The History of the Sinclairs?
Did Rhona ever find the hidden locket?
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Afterword
This story is based on the period 1290-1300, a tumultuous time in Scotland, although Tavish learned little of what was happening while he was in exile.
King Alexander of Norway, ruler of Scotland, died in 1286, having outlived his children. His granddaughter , Margaret, became heir to the Scottish throne aged three, traveling to Scotland aged seven. (I used artistic licence to adjust her age to make it better fit the timeline of story.)
Alexander had arranged in advance for Margaret to marry Edward of Caernarvon, son of Edward I, King of England. The plan was for Margaret to become Queen and Edward King once his father died, unifying England and Scotland.
Sadly, Margaret died shortly after arriving in the Orkney Islands from side effects of sea-sickness. (Or perhaps falling from a castle roof?) Her death in 1290 left a power vacuum with many nobles fighting it out to claim the Scottish throne.
In 1291 the King of England was asked to help choose who should be crowned King of Scotland. Edward was cunning, refusing to pick until the Scottish nobles swore fealty to him. On the 11th of June 1291 all Scottish castles were placed under his control. All officials were made to resign to be reappointed by him.
On 17th November 1292 he chose between Robert the Bruce and John Balliol, picking Balliol to be King of Scotland, subservient to the English crown.
When Edward ordered Balliol to provide him with troops for a planned invasion of France two years later, Balliol refused. Edward was incensed, ordering Balliol to relinquish control of his castles.
Balliol refused again, drawing an army to his side, calling on all Scots to stand up to the English at last. Several lairds refused to join him, including Robert the Bruce, a rival for the throne who assisted the English, at least at first.
In 1296, war began with Edward’s men sacking Berwick-on-Tweed.
In 1297 William Wallace grew to fame for killing the English sheriff of Lanark, the event rallying more men to the Scottish cause. Robert the Bruce was sent by Edward to put them down but as he traveled north he thought hard about where his loyalties lied, eventually rejoining the Scottish side.
The English gradually worked their way north nonetheless, subduing one castle after another at a high cost in lives until in 1302 Robert the Bruce and other nobles submitted to Edward leading to a nine month truce.
In 1305 Wallace was caught and executed, and then Robert the Bruce started out on the journey that would end with him avenging Wallace’s death and finally being crowned King of Scotland, ruler of a country independent from England. But that’s another story!
Also by Blanche Dabney
Held by the Highlander
(Highlander’s Time – Book 1)
The middle ages were a long time ago. And just around the corner.
When Beth Dagless is thrown back through time to medieval Scotland, all she wants is to find a way home. But when she's captured by a handsome Highlander straight out of the history books, she realizes going home might not be as simple as she thought.
Andrew MacIntye is a laird under siege. With rival clans massing against him, the last thing he needs is for some strange woman to appear out of nowhere, talking nonsense about traveling through time. But not only can she prove she's from the future, she's making him feel something he's never felt before, overwhelming desire.
He knows the best way to keep her safe is to get her back to her own time but how can he do that when being apart from her is agony? Little does he know that the answer to his dilemma may lie in the same magic that brought the two of them together, a magic that has one final move to make in this spellbinding game of hearts and souls.
Get your copy here
* * *
Promised to the Highlander
(Highlander’s Time – Book 2)
She’s running late for her wedding. Eight hundred years late.
When Kerry Sutherland falls from a window she lands with a bump in medieval Scotland. Mistaken for the fiancée of the laird's son, she's brought before the man she's supposed to marry, a rugged Highlander with arms like tree trunks and eyes that stare straight into her soul.
Callum is the courageous leader of a brutal band of Highland warriors. Betrothed to a woman he's never met, his only desire is to make sure the arranged wedding never happens. Then a beautiful stranger appears from nowhere and his entire world changes.
The more time Callum spends with Kerry, the more certain he becomes that she's his soulmate. But when his past catches up with him he's forced into an impossible choice. Marry the woman his parents picked out for him and end years of clan warfare or risk everything to be with the broken woman who's taught him the meaning of true love.
Get your copy here
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Also by the Same Author
The Medieval Highlander Trilogy
Highlander’s Voyage (Book 1)
Highlander’s Revenge (B
ook 2)
Highlander’s Battle (Book 3)
Highlander’s Time Series
Held by the Highlander (Book 1)
Janet’s Tale (Book 1.5)
Promised to the Highlander (Book 2)
Outlaw Highlander (Book 3)
Rhona’s Tale (Book 3.5)
Outlaw Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance Page 13
