Megan Denby

by A Thistle in the Mist

  When Vanessa went missing one afternoon, I searched the house frantically and found her in her mother’s bedroom, crying into her pillow. As I held her close and let her cry, my eyes were drawn to the large window. Grace’s bedroom was at the far end of the house and the window looked directly down at the stables. How many nights had we both been standing at our windows, watching John stumble drunkenly to the house? There was no doubt in my mind that Grace had witnessed her husband’s fatal error when he had turned back to the stable, turned back for Rabbie.

  Uncle Pete arrived a week after the fire, his blue-grey eyes – Grace’s eyes – shadowed with sorrow.

  One evening, after I settled the children together in my bed, I tiptoed from the room and down the stairs to the parlour. Pete and Rabbie, who had moved into the main house, looked up from their conversation as I entered the room.

  From the sober expressions on their faces, I knew I had interrupted something serious. I turned to leave. “I’m sorry to intrude.”

  Pete held his hand out to me and set his drink on the sideboard. “No Meara, please come. This concerns you too, dear.”

  I looked to Rabbie but he looked away and I peered back at Pete.

  “Rabbie has just been telling me of your husband and child,” he began carefully.

  I darted an astonished look at Rabbie and his guilty eyes shied from mine.

  “No, Meara, don’t be angry with Rabbie. I asked him what you and he would like to do now that John and Grace are gone.” His voice broke and he looked away for a moment, trying to compose himself. He turned back, “He told me of your losses.”

  Rabbie looked back at me and I gave him a wan smile. He returned my smile with relief.

  “Is it your wish to return to Scotland, Meara?” Pete asked.

  Expectant eyes rested on me as he waited for an answer. A rush of blood pumped through my head.

  “Aye,” I whispered then I crossed the room and sank down in a deep wing chair, my breath suddenly short. “Aye, I want to go home.” I met Pete’s eyes across the room. “But what of the children?” I asked urgently. “I canna leave them. I promised Grace. It breaks my heart to think of them alone, especially now.”

  Pete nodded. “Yes, Meara, I believe my niece and nephew would be lost without you.”

  The solemn eyes perused my face and he appeared to contemplate something before he continued, “May I share something with you, Meara?”

  I nodded slowly, suddenly confused by his candor. I had seen him twice over the past few months. I knew he was a successful merchant who travelled extensively. I also believed him to be a genuine person whom the children loved dearly. And I also thought he had loved his younger sister a great deal.

  “Do you remember when I visited last month?” he asked.

  I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

  “Grace didn’t leave her room the entire time I was here.” He walked a few steps toward the window and stared out, his hands clasped behind his back.

  As before, a jolt ran through my body, as I noticed the way his dark hair brushed the collar of his jacket. I looked away quickly. Rabbie noticed my discomfiture and a furrow parted his brows, his kind eyes registering concern. I smiled weakly at him and shook my head as Pete turned around.

  “I visited my sister in her room. She had taken her usual dose of laudanum but was still somewhat lucid,” he said, sad resignation touching his voice and body.

  An involuntary shudder ran through me at the mention of laudanum. I hoped to never smell that sickly sweet odour again.

  Pete didn’t seem to notice as he continued, “She asked me to make a promise to her.” Pete paused and looked at me. “She asked that I make certain Nessie and Johnny stay with you if anything should happen to her and John.”

  A tightening started inside and I covered my mouth with my hand. “Oh no,” I said through my fingers.

  Pete nodded at me. “I hate to admit but I had suspicions about John’s... well... his preferences... I guess. But I had no idea what was on Grace’s mind. I thought she was emotional because of the drug.” He shook his head and his voice broke. “If I’d only known her thoughts, I could have helped her.”

  He walked back to the window and the room was silent for a moment as the three of us were lost to our own thoughts.

  When he turned, he was once more composed. “I would take the children myself. You know how I feel about them, but my work takes me away for long periods of time and I think what they both need is stability.”

  He strode across the room and seated himself in the chair across from me. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “We have no living relatives, and neither did John. As you probably guessed, John was a wealthy man. Everything has been left to the children.”

  I looked toward Rabbie, confused. Rabbie looked back at me and lifted his shoulders slightly. Why was Pete telling me all of this? I wondered.

  “Meara, Grace was adamant in her wishes. She would not let me leave her room until I promised.” He leaned over and took my hand, releasing a deep breath. “Meara, it is so much to ask of you but would you consider taking the children?” His hand tightened around mine. “They need someone to love them so badly and they need someone who will be there for them always.” The words rushed from his lips. “They need you and Grace knew that you could give them what she had not been able to for quite some time.”

  He released my hand and settled back. “I know this is a great deal to ask, but it also means you and Rabbie,” he paused and looked over his shoulder to Rabbie who stood, quietly listening, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his breeches, “you and Rabbie can leave for Scotland on the first ship. I have already checked the shipping schedules and there are a few ships still sailing...”

  “Aye, Pete!” I cut him off as I leapt from the chair. He looked up at me in surprise as laughter bubbled from my mouth. “I’d love to do this. I love those children with all my heart!”

  The doorknocker sounded out in the hall as a huge smile spread across Pete’s troubled face. “Oh, Meara, you are a good, good woman!”

  “And you are a good man, Pete.” I turned and threw myself into Rabbie’s arms, knocking him off balance. He pulled his hands from his pockets and hugged me back, his arms squeezing me tight.

  I tipped back, looking up at my loyal comrade, the lad who had never wavered. “We’re goin’ home, lad!”

  He smiled down at me, the blush I hadn’t seen in quite a while, creeping up his cheeks. “Aye, lass, we’re goin’ home.”

  “Ahem.” I turned to find Olga, standing in the doorway, an envelope in her hand. “Excuse me for interrupting but the postmaster just delivered this for you, Meara.”

  “The postmaster? At this time of night?” Pete asked.

  My eyes fell on the white of the envelope. I felt my chest quiver as my heart sped up, pounding against the inside wall of my chest. Oh Blessed Lord! Oh Lord! This is what I had been waiting for! Time slowed as I crossed the room and took the envelope from her outstretched hand. My name was scrawled in uneven script across the front. It was unfamiliar and I stared, puzzled. With fingers that trembled, I broke the blob of wax that sealed the envelope. I slipped my fingers in and withdrew two smaller envelopes.

  One was blank. The other bore my name, printed in the same uneven hand as the other. On unsteady legs, I moved to bright lamp. I lay the outer envelope and the blank one on the sideboard then opened the one in my hand. Pulling out a grubby piece of parchment, I unfolded it. Before I started to read, I looked to Rabbie uncertainly. He immediately stepped to my side and placed his hand on my shoulder. I felt his fingers warm through the fabric as I looked back down at the paper.

  Meara and Rabbie,

  I visited yer friend Angus and he sent along this here letter.

  The Ghillie Dhu is waylaid for a few weeks for repairs.

  I guess the sharks didn’t like that Irish Stew we fed them

  and took a nip out of the hull.

  I shud
dered at the reminder of O’Flynn. I had hoped to never think of that wretch again. I read further.

  I sent you this letter ahead on another ship. I trust

  old Angus will tell ye everything ye need to know.

  I’ll be along in about eight weeks or so. I’ll save the

  best cabin for you for your voyage home.

  Yer friend,

  Duff McDougall

  A fat tear fell on the page at the sudden emotion that coursed through me. Home! I smiled through my tears as I looked back at Rabbie. He had read the letter over my shoulder and was grinning.

  “Open the other, lass.”

  I swiped the blank envelope from the table and tore at the paper, my hands trembling wildly. The print was shaky, the letters feathering across the page in Angus’ familiar script. I took a deep breath and began to read.

  Dear Lassie,

  The news I have for ye is no good, lass. I...

  I read the contents of the letter through a blur of tears then looked at the window. My reflection tipped oddly to one side and the glass wavered about liquidly, like water. I looked down at my feet as the polished pine rushed up at my face.

  Then everything turned black.

  TWENTY-SIX

  November 21 1809

  Going Home

  “Nay, if ye dinna mind, I’ll just wait here.”

  Rabbie stared hard at me, concern shadowing his bright eyes. “Are ye certain, Meara?”

  “Aye, lad,” I nodded and forced a smile, “Dinna fash now.”

  Rabbie set our luggage on the ground beside the large trunk that contained more clothes and some of Johnny’s toys. “Och, let’s go then, my young lads and lassies. I think I could use a wee bit of help.” He held his hands out to Vanessa and Johnny. Johnny immediately slipped his hand into Rabbie’s and turned away, his eyes excitedly trained on the huge ship, but Vanessa stared at me, searching my face with solemn eyes.

  “I’ll stay with you, Meara,” she offered softly.

  “Nay, lassie, Rabbie needs ye to watch wee Johnny while he pays for our passage and I need to watch that no one snatches our luggage.” I forced a smile then reached out and smoothed her fair cheek with my hand, “All right, lass?”

  She nodded, pressing her face against my gloved hand for a moment before slipping her hand into Rabbie’s.

  I watched as they retreated. Rabbie loped, long legs loosely collapsing to each side, not yet fully grown, but with little trace of the boy that I used to tease. Johnny skipped at Rabbie’s side, eager for adventure and for the moment having forgotten his parent’s death as only the very young can. And Vanessa – lovely Vanessa – walked gracefully as usual, but I noticed the rise of her shoulders and knew she carried a world of sorrow.

  As soon as they disappeared into the crowd, the rigid mask I’d been wearing for days dissolved and fell from my face. I sank down onto the trunk and closed my eyes, covered my face with my hands. A shudder ran through me and I released a long warm breath into my cupped hands. As I drew a mouthful of frosted air, the breath turned into a sob, a low moan muffled by my hands. My stomach quivered as silent, halting sobs tore free. For a long time I stayed that way until my gloves grew soggy from the tears I could not stop.

  I was going home at last. We were going home. But the notion no longer filled me with joy. Try as I would, I could not remember the feeling of elation, the pure joy that had filled me when Pete had asked if I wanted to go home. For a few short minutes, the barriers that kept me from returning to my husband and son had been cast aside; a few precious minutes.

  Then the postmaster, the dear man who had witnessed my disappointment day after day, had taken it upon himself to deliver the letter personally after the post office had closed.

  The letter.

  The terse reply from Angus informing me of the fate of my husband and bairn; the letter that had snuffed out the last vestige of hope I had carried and protected inside of me.

  Now I was going home, but not to Duncan and Heath. My dreams of loving my husband, holding my baby, were just that; dreams.

  I squeezed my eyes tight and dragged at the visions that were getting harder and harder to resurrect. Slowly, Duncan’s vulnerable eyes crept from the shadows. He smiled crookedly at me as he cupped my cheek, caressed my parted lips with his. Slowly, I ran the tip of my tongue across my lips and for a fleeting moment I could taste him, feel him. I inhaled and remembered his musky scent, his tangy sweat. Heath joined his daddy. The gentle suckling as he nursed at my breast caressed my ears. I felt the texture of his dark curls, so like Duncan’s and his sweet baby fragrance filled my senses. Gradually the blue eyes retreated and the moss-green eyes faded until darkness bled through my mind like a bad poison.

  Were they together now? Was Heath safe in Duncan’s arms?

  Gradually, the tolling of a bell intruded on my thoughts. I rubbed at my swollen eyes then slowly lowered my hands. Frigid November air rushed at my face. With the handkerchief I dug from the pocket of my coat, I mopped at my face and blew my streaming nose.

  The wind nipped at my ears and I lifted my collar as the bell clanged more urgently.

  Excitement welled up from the crowded dock and I soon saw the reason. A ship approached, the biting wind rapidly propelling her to the port of Pictou. With disinterest, I looked at it briefly. Then I glanced at the dock, at the huge vessel that would be taking us home.

  Pete had arranged for passage. He had spared no expense. We would have two separate cabins; Rabbie and Johnny in one and Nessie and I in the other. It was one of the last ships that would cross the Atlantic before winter truly set in. We had been lucky to secure passage. Pete had seen us off, promising to visit in the spring. The trip had been a blur, travelling through most of the day and night. I slept most of the way, Johnny’s head in my lap, Nessie cuddled close beside. I dreaded the thought of the crossing but welcomed the distraction the children would provide.

  For it was the children I now lived for. They had no one and needed me. But I needed them as well. They alone had kept me from slipping into the abyss of despair as I searched inside for my strength of spirit.

  Pete entrusted a portion of the children’s inheritance to me. He’d also given me the name of an associate of his, Oliver Grove, a magistrate who had an office in Uig. I carried with me a letter from Pete. He assured me Mr. Grove would look into the matter of Deirdre and Sloan. Pete was confident we could prove Da had not been of sound mind when he had married Deirdre, thereby making their marriage null and void. Why had I not done more when Deirdre had first announced she and Da had married? Lord, why had I not done more? I’d given up too easily when Da’s solicitor had discouraged my efforts.

  I thought of Da. Where was he? He had been so ill. Was he in heaven with everyone else I had loved and lost? I looked up at the sky, at the roiling clouds.

  My lips trembled. I balled my fist and pressed it hard against my teeth, resolutely looking back out to sea. Whitecaps flecked the endless expanse of grey, ever moving in an angry dance of colliding waves. Flat, dark clouds hung on the horizon. Flakes drifted down and spun in dizzying circles, driven by the icy winds.

  A cheer went up from the crowd as the incoming ship sailed neatly up to the huge dock. I squinted against a sudden swirl of snow then glanced back toward the shipping office. For a moment I glimpsed Rabbie’s russet head as he waited in line before he disappeared once more in the ocean of people.

  With unseeing eyes, I stared down at the suitcase Pete had given me as a gift. Gradually I focused and sucked in a short cold breath as I stared at the outline of a thistle. I vaguely heard the echo of Pete’s voice in my head as he told me he had purchased the leather case on his last trip to Scotland.

  I slipped my fingers out of my gloves. Leaning forward, I traced the outline of the thistle, the sharp thorns and the feathery blossom. My chest constricted painfully as another thistle, a much larger thistle, crept from a place deep in my mind.

  A tall, purple thistle, standing alone
in a bed of heather, just visible in the morning mist; it had been my beacon, my guidepost that led me to Duncan.

  A thistle in the mist.

  Blessed Lord! How could He be so unfair? My fingers grew numb as I traced the outline that had been expertly tooled into the leather. Tears pricked at my eyes and my nose started to run again.

  Little by little, I drew my hand away and stared at the ring on my left hand, at the pewter thistle. I cried openly, didn’t care who saw my sorrow as I slipped the ring off my finger. It was warm and glowed softly in the palm of my hand. Rubbing my eyes against the rough wool of my coat sleeve, I held it to my eyes.

  ‘Cirean ceah cinnidh. It’s Gaelic for Hold Fast.’ I could hear Duncan’s smooth burr as though he stood next to me. I slipped the ring back on and stared at my hand.

  Hold fast.

  I felt a smile take my lips as I remembered the day he had proposed, the way he had teased me when I had laughed with my mouth wide and my nose crinkled.

  I ran my finger across my nose. It had been a long, long time since I had laughed with such abandon. Cupping my hands, I smoothed my thumb back and forth across the smooth metal of my wedding ring. Then I glanced back at the shipping office.

  I could see Rabbie and the children, almost at the front of the line now.

  I looked back toward the dock. I sat in the middle of a crowd but somehow I was so alone. Everyone was beginning to board. The wind had died down. Snowflakes drifted lazily on the still air and a hazy sun peeked between the clouds.