“Help me to understand it then, Aggie. Tell me why this has ye so upset and I’ll do what I can fer ye.”
She shook her head and swallowed back tears, searching for words. “Please, just d-do n-no’ let him go!”
“I dunna ken if I can stop it, Aggie,” he said. “Ailrig is Mermadak’s responsibility. Aye, there is much I can do without needin’ Mermadak’s permission, but I canna just go to the man and tell him he can’t.”
More tears streamed down her face. “I b-beg ye, Frederick, p-please! Please d-do n-no’ let him g-go to the Bowie!” She grabbed the front of his tunic and had nearly reached the point of hysteria. Frederick had never seen her like this and it was beginning to worry him.
“Aggie—” he stopped uncertain what he could do or say to make her feel any better about the situation.
She fell to her knees before him, grabbing his trews with both hands. “I’ll d-do anythin’ ye ask of m-me, Frederick! Anythin’! I’ll n-no’ ever ask ye another th-thin’ again, the r-rest of me d-days, if ye’ll make it so Ailrig d-doesna have to g-go to the Bowie!” she begged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ll d-do anythin’ ye ever w-want, without c-complaint or question. I’ll let ye j-join with m-me any time ye want! I’ll let ye sell all me d-dresses, g-give away everythin’ that I have. Whatever ye want, I’ll d-do it! Please, I b-beg ye, do n-no’ let him go to the Bowie!”
“Aggie, up with ye now!” Frederick told her. There was no need for her to kneel before him like some servant kneeling before her master.
She shook her head and pleaded further. “T-tell me what it is ye want, and I’ll d-do it Frederick!” she was sobbing uncontrollably now. This was more than a sister worried over her younger brother.
“Aggie,” he said as he knelt before her. “Wheest now! I ken ye love yer brother, but please, do no’ carry on so.”
His wife was in pain and he didn’t know why this all bothered her so. She started to say something, then stopped. “Please,” she implored him.
“Aggie,” Frederick said as he reached out and placed his hands on her arms. “Why does this bother ye so?”
She held her breath and shook her head as she struggled with something.
“Aggie?” He could not help but feel there was more to her distress than what she was telling him. “Aggie, please, tell me.”
Abject anguish stared back at him, in the depths of her gold-brown eyes. He also saw fear and uncertainty. His gut warned that whatever secret she had, he was not going to like hearing it.
Aggie searched his eyes, holding her breath as she choked on waves of tears. It was clear to Frederick that she was fighting a battle.
“Ailrig,” she stopped and took another deep breath. A moment, then two passed before she blurted out the true reason for her distress. “The Bowie. Eduard Bowie is the man who…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud, but Frederick knew what she meant. The Bowie was the man who had raped her ten years ago.
Aggie took another deep breath and wiped away more tears. “And Ailrig is me son!”
Frederick drew back, feeling as though he’d just been kicked in the stomach. He sat on his haunches, as stunned as he was angry. How could she have kept this from him? She had been honest about the rape, to a certain extent, though she had never divulged the identity of the man who had raped her. She had been honest about her true age, her scars, and nearly everything else.
His jaw tightened and he felt the blood drain from his face. He could only stare at her in utter shock and disbelief for he had no words. Thoughts collided in his mind, his heart squeezing tightly. He could feel himself losing control, his anger rising and boiling.
Slowly, he stood to his feet, leaving Aggie on the floor in a sagging heap of tears and sobs. “Frederick,” she started to speak but stopped.
A very large part of him wanted to console her, for he knew in his heart that was what she needed at this moment. He couldn’t, not right now. Not until he sorted out in his heart and mind how he felt about this turn of events.
He had to leave the room before he turned into a raving lunatic. As yet, he was uncertain who he was angrier with—Aggie, or Eduard Bowie.
SOMETIME LATER, ROSE returned to Aggie’s room. Aggie’s tears had eventually ebbed, but she did not possess the strength to lift her body from the floor where Frederick had left her. Rose rushed to her side, draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in.
“Aggie, ye poor thing!” Rose whispered. “All will be well. I’m certain of it. I have faith that Frederick will sort this all out.”
Aggie had no faith in anything at the moment. Frederick had looked horrified when she had finally shared the complete truth with him. He had looked at her as though she were some aberration of nature, some horribly looking creature that didn’t deserve to live.
“N-nay,” Aggie said softy. “He’s t-too angry with m-me to care to help Ailrig.”
Rose twisted her head a bit in order to get a better look at Aggie. “Angry with ye?” She asked curiously. “Surely yer wrong, Aggie. Why would he be so angry with ye that he’ll no’ help Ailrig?”
Other than Frederick, no other living person knew what had happened that awful day. She and her mother had kept the truth hidden from everyone, including Rose. Secrecy was necessary, for Aggie’s safety, as well as Ailrig’s.
Rose gave Aggie a hug and pulled Aggie’s head to rest against her shoulder. “Yer just upset, Aggie, over what Mermadak intends to do. Frederick is no’ mad at ye!”
Aggie hiccuped and shook her head. “N-nay, Rose, ye d-dunna understand the all of it.”
“Well then,” Rose said as she turned Aggie to face her. “Why dunna ye tell me so I can help ye sort it through.”
There was probably no sense in keeping it secret any longer. Frederick now knew the whole ugly truth and would undoubtedly soon be leaving her. He was probably below stairs now, giving word to his men to pack. Silence and secrecy no longer mattered.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Aggie began to tell her friend all about that awful day. “T-ten years ago, Rose, I was on m-me way to yer house. Ye remember when ye lived with yer family across the g-glen?”
Rose nodded, her expression growing curious. She remained quiet, allowing Aggie to tell her story.
“I was w-walking through the g-glen, near the edge of the wood. ’Twas a b-beautiful day, ye ken. I was lookin’ forward to seein’ ye, f-fer ye’d been sick fer weeks.”
“I remember,” Rose offered. “I was just recovering from the ague. We were what? Ten and two?”
“T-ten and three,” Aggie corrected. “’Twas such a b-beautiful day. The b-birds were singin’, the lambs and ewes were bleatin’ in the distance….” She turned away from Rose then and stared at a spot on the back of Frederick’s chair. Soon, it was as if she were a young girl of three and ten. An innocent and naive young girl whose only mistake that day was her desire to see a sick friend. Recounting the story she felt just as cold and alone now, as she had then.
Lost as she was in her own little world, she hadn’t seen him until he stepped in the path before her. She jumped with a start, squealing with fright. Her dread faded when she saw who it was. Eduard Bowie, the son of one of her father’s friends. They had come to visit two days ago and were set to leave on the morrow.
Eduard Bowie’s father was one of Mermadak’s closest friends. A man who had always treated her well enough, like an uncle. Mermadak trusted him, and by default, so did Aggie. His son was a different matter. He always had one crude remark or another and would occasionally try to steal a kiss. She thought he did these things to impress his friends, or Aggie. She was sadly mistaken. But because he was older, nearly four and twenty, Aggie felt she owed him some level of respect. It wouldn’t do to complain to her father anyway, for he thought the sun rose and sat in Eduard. Time and again, her father remarked that Eduard was the son he wished he had.
“Where be ye headin’ this fine day?” Eduard asked with a smile.
&
nbsp; “To see me friend, Rose,” Aggie answered as she made her way around him. She hadn’t any idea why he was out here, hunting mayhap? Who knew with most men? They oft did odd and confusing things so she paid it no mind.
He walked briskly and soon was blocking her way again. She rolled her eyes and tried to walk around him. Each time she made the attempt, he would block her way. “What are ye doin’?” she asked, thinking he was doing nothing more than being his usual annoying self.
“Ye look bonny this day. Give me a kiss.”
Aggie laughed at him, still believing he meant her no harm and that he was only attempting to be playful. “I think no’!” she told him with a slight giggle. “Yer daft!” She could not take his request seriously.
“I’ll talk to yer da and ask fer yer hand. Then ye have to kiss me.”
Aggie crossed her arms over her chest. “Me? Marry? I think no’ just yet. And what would yer betrothed say? Do ye think Mary would like bein’ cast aside?” Aggie knew that he was betrothed to Mary Gilroy from a neighboring clan. Aggie didn’t believe for a moment that he’d cast Mary aside, fer she came with far more land and coin than Aggie could ever hope to offer. “So nay, I’ll no’ kiss ye, out of respect fer Mary.”
That was the moment that things changed. His smile fell away rapidly and he became quite serious. “Yer full of yerself, aren’t ye?” he drawled. “Poor as a church mouse and yet, ye walk around singin’ and chirpin’ away as if ye were somethin’ special.”
The change in his countenance surprised her. He’d gone from playful eejit to something furious that frightened her. All in the span of two heartbeats. Her skin began to itch with a warning of some sort. If he was trying to scare her, he was succeeding.
“I must hurry to Rose’s house,” she told him as she tried to step around him again.
“Give me a kiss and I’ll let ye be on yer way.”
’Twas then that the warning bells rang. Her stomach tightened and her mouth went dry. He was no longer jesting. “Nay,” she said nervously. “Please, let me pass.”
He took a step closer and leaned down. She could feel his breath on her ear as he whispered in it and caught the whiff of whisky on his breath. “Kiss me and I shall let ye pass.”
Instinct told her he wanted more than a chaste kiss. Blood rushed in her ears. She’d run as fast as she could to Rose’s house. There she would be safe and would ask Rose’s father for escort back to the keep. She bolted like a rabbit, but he caught her before she had taken more than a few steps.
“Let me go!” she demanded as she struggled against the tight hold he had on her arms. He cursed at her, grinding his teeth together, refusing to listen to her entreaties.
Unadulterated fear gripped her heart yet she still maintained some control over her faculties. She had to find a way to free herself from his grasp and make her way to Rose’s home. “Let me go or I shall tell me father what ye’ve done!”
Her words did not have the desired effect. She had hoped he would be afraid, but all she managed to do was infuriate him. He loosened one hand long enough to slap her hard across the face, the force of it sending her falling to the ground.
Sparks of light flashed before her eyes from the slap, the wind knocked out of her lungs when she fell hard. Before she could regain her wits, he was on top of her, pinning her to the ground. Terror kept her screams lodged firmly in her throat as she fought hard to find a way to free herself. Kicking her feet, digging her heels deep into the ground, she tried to throw him off, but her efforts were fruitless. He was a good two feet taller than she and much heavier and stronger.
She managed to free one hand long enough to hit him across his jaw, but that only angered him further. He grabbed her wrists with one large hand and pinned them over her head. Aggie opened her eyes wide as bile rose.
When she spat in his face, he became even more enraged and slapped her again. Her eyes filled with tears, her cheek burned as blood filled her mouth. She sobbed, the tears falling freely down the sides of her face. Large beads of sweat covered her brow, her upper lip and chest. Sticks and rocks poked at her back and head. Panicked and terrified, she sobbed louder for she knew what he was going to do.
Since threats hadn’t worked, she decided to plead with him for her freedom. “Please, let me go!” she begged as she continued to fight against him. “I’ll no’ tell me da, I promise. Just please, let me go!”
He laughed at her then, as if he took great joy in her tears, her pleas for mercy and freedom. Aggie squeezed her eyes tightly shut and turned her head away when she felt his lips press forcefully against her own. She shuddered with revulsion when she felt him shoving her skirts upward.
She began to pray that someone would come along and help her. She didn’t care who it was who might happen along as long as they would make him stop. “Please,” she cried out weakly. “Please stop!”
Her pleas fell on vile, deaf ears. His only response was an evil sounding chuckle followed by him mimicking her cries. In a high falsetto voice, he said, “Please, please, please stop.” He chuckled again as he tore away the two things a young girl or woman could say that she owned; her pride and virtue.
The pain was unbearable and she felt as though her insides were being torn apart. She let loose with a guttural cry and he clamped his hand down over her mouth. He showed no mercy in his assault.
He uttered a word with each thrust. “When we are married, I’ll do this to ye night after night after night.”
Then he was done.
He rolled away.
Disgust, revulsion washed over her. She continued to weep, her body wracking with great convulsing sobs. Moments later, she was on her stomach retching up her morning meal. Horrified over what had just happened, she tried to crawl away, but he was not done with her yet.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and threw her down to her back again. She saw the dirk in his hand and for a brief moment, she hoped he would kill her. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than the sweet mercy of death, for she felt so ashamed.
With one strong hand he turned her head sideways and pinned her in place. She felt the hard, cold point of the dirk just above her temple. “I think I shall brand ye,” he said with mirth in his voice. “So each time ye see yer reflection, ye will think of me.”
He took his time as he ran his dirk down the side of her face, one hand covering her mouth to muffle her screams. She felt the blood as it trickled into her ear and hair and down her neck. She felt the dirk as it tore through her flesh.
When he was finished, he wiped the blood from his dirk onto her skirt. “Now ye are ferever mine. No man shall ever want ye. Yer a whore, ye ken. A stupid whore like most women,” he taunted her, laughing as she cried and retched again.
She had no idea how much time had passed as she lay in the glen, retching between uncontrollable bouts of sobbing. Just as she had not heard him arrive, she had not heard him leave.
Rose sat in stunned silence with her mouth agape. “Why did ye no’ tell me?” she asked.
“I was t-too afraid, Rose.” Her voice was low and filled with pain. “I t-told me mum and she said we should n-no’ tell anyone. If da found out, there was a g-good chance he’d force me to m-marry Eduard. I c-couldna do that, n-not after what he had d-done.”
Shaking her head in disbelief, a hundred questions passed through Rose’s mind. “But Aggie, ye could have told me later. We’ve been friends for many years. I would no’ have told anyone.”
“I c-couldna take the risk, Rose. I c-couldna.” Shame also played an intricate role in keeping the events to herself. If anyone had found out and done the math from the day she’d been raped to the time she and her mother returned from visiting a sick relative some ten months later, with an illegitimate child in tow, it would not have taken anyone long to figure things out.
Rose wrapped her arms around Aggie. “Ye poor thing! To carry this around all this time! And now, to learn yer da wants to send Ailrig to the man who raped ye,” she shook her head
in disgust. “’Tis no wonder ye be so upset!”
Tears threatened again and Aggie did her best to swallow them back. Telling Rose of the rape had not been nearly as difficult as she had thought it would be. But to tell her of Ailrig? Would Rose still look upon her as a friend or a whore who bore a child out of wedlock? What did it matter now? Frederick now knew the truth and ’twould not be long before word spread.
A shudder coursed over her body. If Frederick left her, had the marriage annulled, would her father then insist she marry Eduard Bowie? Fear enveloped and brought goose pimples to her flesh. The thought sickened her, even after all these years.
“There b-be more, Rose. More ye d-dunna ken,” Aggie said in a low voice. “But I f-fear when I tell ye, ye’ll be like Frederick and th-think less of me. The thought of losin’ yer f-friendship sickens me Rose.”
The puzzled look returned to Rose’s face. “Aggie! I could never think ye as anythin’ but me friend. And I’m sure Frederick will come to realize that what Eduard Bowie did to ye was no’ yer fault.”
“Frederick has known, Rose, since the d-day after we m-married. That is n-no’ why he is so m-mad at me and thinks me…” she couldn’t say the word aloud, whore, but she was positive that is what he now thought of her.
“I promise, no matter what ye tell me, I’ll always remain yer friend,” Rose said as she patted Aggie’s hands. “Now tell me, why is Frederick so mad?”
Aggie searched her mind for the right way to tell Rose about Ailrig. No matter how she said it, in the end, the result was the same. “Ailrig is m-me son. I g-gave birth to him n-nine years ago. Eduard Bowie is his father.”
Stunned, Rose’s eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. “Nay!” she whispered. “Nay!”
“Aye, Rose, ’tis t-true.”
“But how did I no’ ken it?” Rose asked incredulously.
“D-do ye remember the t-trip me mum and I t-took to visit her sick aunt?” Aggie asked.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 27
