Highland Destiny

by Oliver, Marina

  HIGHLAND DESTINY

  BY

  MARINA OLIVER

  After the Battle of Naseby Sir John Emrey brings a dying Highland chieftain's heir to his home, and promises to restore his sword to his clan.

  When his mother and sister Blanche are driven from their home in the north of England, they plan to go to relatives in Ireland after delivering the sword, but are persuaded to stay in Scotland where Blanche becomes a friend and companion to Fiona Macdonald, the new heir.

  Sir John goes to fight with Montrose, while Fiona is besieged with suitors eager to take control of her inheritance. There are her cousins, and her neighbour the Black Campbell. And there is danger from her aunt and uncle, the next in line to rule the clan.

  Highland Destiny

  By

  Marina Oliver

  Copyright © 2011 Marina Oliver

  Smashwords Edition

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  Cover Design by Debbie Oliver

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  First Print edition published 1979 by Robert Hale

  See details of other books by Marina Oliver at http:/www.marina-oliver.net

  AUTHOR NOTE

  The Western Highlands are an especially romantic and beautiful part of Scotland, but have a violent history of clan warfare. I had the privilege of staying for a while in a Scottish castle, much smaller than the one featured here, with spiral stairs and thick, defensive walls. I also visited many other castles, from the large royal fortresses to the small peel towers which were little more than a couple of rooms in each storey, where people could retire when threatened by their enemies.

  HIGHLAND DESTINY

  BY

  MARINA OLIVER

  Chapter 1

  Blanche walked briskly down the hillside despite the fierce heat of the noon sun, swinging her basket and aglow with pleasure at having performed a task well. Smiling, she compared the praises of old Lizzie Smith, from whose tiny cottage she had just come, with the charges of hoydenish behaviour that her governess too often levelled at her. Old Lizzie, once a servant at the Manor, had greatly appreciated her visit, and Blanche, impatient to be thought fully grown, was aware that by encouraging her to perform more of such tasks her mother was recognising her maturity. Lady Emrey had issued many warnings, though, about not straying from the track and returning home immediately, for one never knew when one might be surprised by troops of soldiers, and Blanche had seen enough of the war to realize her mother's fears were not unfounded. In these troubled times it was but common sense to take precautions.

  The track twisted down between high banks, and as Blanche turned the last sharp corner the long, low stone house that was her home appeared before her, basking in the sunshine. Beside the doorway she saw several men surrounding a litter from which someone was being lifted gently and then carried into the house. Fear clutched at Blanche's heart, and after a moment's horrified pause when she recalled in all its vivid detail a similar scene one year earlier, in 1644, when her dead father had been carried home from Marston Moor, she was racing down the last slope, her skirts held high, all thoughts of her new dignity forgotten.

  'Oh God! Please God, let it not be John!' she prayed as she ran, thinking less of her own loss if her adored brother were hurt or killed, but of the devastating blow it would be to her mother, who had been so shocked and ill after the death of her father. If John were gone too her mother would be inconsolable.

  Breathless, Blanche tore under the stone gateway and along the short drive that led between neatly tended flowerbeds to the house. Heedless of the curious stares cast at her, she quickly scanned the faces of the men who stood around, but John was not amongst them. The litter had been removed and its occupant was inside the house. Blanche ran on towards the door, distraught, and the men moved aside to permit her to pass. Just as she reached the wide, low steps her brother appeared at the top, and gasping with relief Blanche flung herself towards him. He caught her to him, hugging her closely while she stammered out her fears.

  'Be calm, child!' he admonished, and turned to thank the men, saying that refreshments were being prepared for them in the kitchens. Nodding, they moved away round the house and John held Blanche away from him, looking down at her gently.

  'I was so terrified!' she explained. 'It was so like when – when father was brought home, and I feared for you!'

  'I am unscathed,' he answered sombrely, 'but there was a disastrous battle and many were hurt. A good friend of mine was sorely wounded and since he could travel no further on his way home to Scotland I brought him here. Now, will you show you are a soldier's daughter and help the maids feed my men? Can you do that after the fright you have received? I must go to see if there is aught I can do to aid mother in settling Angus.'

  Blanche drew herself away, smiled at him a little tremulously, and nodded, then turned to go into the vast kitchen where two of the maids were hurriedly arranging pies, bread and cheese, and a huge sirloin of beef on the big centre table. Blanche went to collect mugs and set these out, then filled them with ale from a huge blackjack.

  The men, almost a dozen of them, came in and seated themselves, smiling and jesting with the girls although they eyed Blanche herself with some wariness. She was longing to discover what had occurred, and when they appeared to have satisfied their first pangs of hunger she began to ask questions.

  One of the oldest amongst them constituted himself their spokesman.

  ' 'Twere near Market Harborough, Missee,' he said heavily, 'a place called Naseby, I 'eard say. We was outnumbered, an' they devils surrounded us!' He paused, drained his mug, then wiped his hand over his lips. Sighing, he shook his head mournfully. 'It shouldn't ha' been! If only the Prince 'ad come back after the first charge! Or the King brought up the reserve instead o' riding away when they was needed!'

  'Is the King's army beaten utterly?' Blanche asked in dismay.

  ' 'Twould seem so. Aye, all's lost, and we need to save what we can for ourselves!'

  'But who is this man you have brought here?'

  'A Scot, a friend o' Sir John, Missee. 'E were wounded, bad, but 'e would ride northwards until 'e lost too much blood and Sir John persuaded 'im to come 'ere to be tended.'

  'I see. Were many wounded?' Blanche asked fearfully.

  'Too many! Or taken!' another, younger man, put in. 'The Ironsides, damn them to hell, put even the women following the army to the sword! An' the rest are fled. The King'll never get another army now!'

  Gloomily they discussed the disaster, and Blanche listened in growing dismay.

  The King was in dire trouble, it seemed, if his army really had been broken to pieces.

  They were not left long in fruitless discussion. John soon appeared and, with an approving glance at his sister, briskly thanked the men for their help and handed each of them a coin.

  'The King will no doubt be gathering his forces together. I look to seeing you all again soon, when we'll show these New Model men they're not the only ones that can fight!'

  They looked dubious, but with many expressions of thanks to Blan
che and the maids, the soldiers gathered up their belongings and departed. John went to see them on their way, and then returned to the kitchen where Blanche was helping to clear away the remnants of the meal.

  'Leave that and come and talk with me,' he said to her. ' 'Tis months since I was home.'

  Eagerly plying him with questions, Blanche accompanied him to a small but sunny parlour.

  'Who is your friend? Should you not be with him?'

  'Mother is caring for him, and will do all that is possible. I fear, though, there is little she can do. He lost a great deal of blood from several wounds.'

  'Poor man,' Blanche said softly. 'He is your friend?'

  'Yes. He is Angus Macdonald, a Scot from the Western Highlands. He came to England with Prince Rupert, for they had fought together as boys in Germany. We have for some time been companions.'

  They remained silent for a time, then, making an effort to shake off his melancholy, John began asking Blanche questions about her own doings, and what had been happening at home during the months he had been away. Proudly she related all the work she had been doing, saying that now her mother relied on her a great deal. John smiled, thinking how lovely she looked when animated, her huge dark eyes sparkling and her black, unruly curls tumbling about her piquant face. Though only just fourteen Blanche was already a beauty, and as she matured she would be very desirable. But what would be her future in this uncertain world, he wondered bleakly. The man she had been promised to several years earlier had died shortly before their own father, and he, now her guardian, had been too preoccupied with the fighting to make any other arrangements for her. He must now consider it, he realised, and ask his mother whether she had any suitable man in mind.

  Blanche's pleasure in her brother's company was scarcely dimmed by the knowledge that a man lay upstairs desperately ill, for she was permitted no part in the nursing of him. For two days he clung to life but then, having recovered consciousness for a few hours, he quietly died. John had been with him for these last lucid hours, but when it was all over he came out of the bedroom carrying a heavy jewelled sword, and shut himself away in the room where his father had dealt with the business of the estate.

  *

  That evening after supper John broached the problem of Blanche's future to his mother.

  'There are no suitable young men in the district,' Lady Emrey said worriedly. 'I have been thinking long about this, for your father had no close kinsfolk, and mine are far away in Ulster, and she would need protection if – if aught befell you and me.'

  John laid his hand briefly on her shoulder.

  'We must make plans. What of Robert Petherick? He is from a wealthy family and of good birth.'

  'He has joined Parliament, and his younger brother was killed a few months back,' Lady Emrey explained. 'They have all been killed or have joined Parliament or their families are against the King. That, or they are Papists. I could not permit Blanche to wed into either a Papist or a Parliamentarian family!'

  'No, indeed. Well, if there is no one suitable hereabouts, we must seek further from home. I have many friends in the army, of course, but life is so uncertain for us all that will scarce serve. Had father no kinsfolk? I thought there was a cousin?'

  'There is only a second cousin, a Charles Askew, and I have not heard from him in years.'

  'He lives near Durham, does he not? I will pay him a visit and enquire whether he knows of anyone suitable. Blanche is young, and decidedly pretty, and will have a substantial dowry. She's a good match for any man.'

  Lady Emrey sighed. 'I would I could keep her with me for company. She is young yet.'

  'Indeed, but a betrothal would safeguard her. We must not delay, though she is certainly too young as yet to wed.'

  He fell silent, gazing into the embers of the small fire which had been lit, for even in this hot June the evenings could become chilly. Lady Emrey watched him, thinking fondly how like his father he had become, and sorrowing at the disruption the war had brought to his life. Although he was a good soldier she knew his heart was not in it, and he would rather be caring for his lands and raising his own family.

  'Have you no wedding plans for yourself?' she asked gently. 'Has no girl taken your fancy?'

  He grinned briefly. 'Oh, as to that – I've seen no one to tempt me! There's no leisure for me to think of marrying until we are safe. When that happens I'll lose no time, I promise you, in finding a suitable wife and giving you a grandchild! There's too much else to do yet. I will set off for Durham tomorrow and attempt to settle Blanche's future. Afterwards, I promised Angus I would go and tell his father of his death, and take back his sword. It is apparently much venerated in his clan. By that time, mayhap, the King's armies will have gathered together again and I can rejoin him to make another push to end this war. For the moment my duties towards Blanche and Angus are more urgent.'

  He departed on the following day, and Blanche awaited his return with some trepidation. Despite her desire to be adult, the knowledge he intended to arrange a betrothal for her perturbed her. She did not wish to leave her home, married to some stranger, but she knew it would be childish as well as useless to protest. She must marry, and she knew John and her mother would choose a man she could like and respect.

  She could only hope there would be plenty of opportunity for her to meet and come to know the man before she had to be married to him.

  John would be gone for about a week.

  *

  Two days after his departure, early in the morning, Blanche was in the schoolroom at the back of the house with her governess, Mistress Evans, when they heard a loud knock at the door and officious shouts demanding to know who was at home.

  Ignoring Mistress Evans' anguished plea for decorum, Blanche pulled open the door and ran along to the top of the stairs.

  Below her in the large, stone-flagged hall her mother stood proudly confronting a couple of soldiers, Parliament men by the looks of their severely plain dress and close-cropped hair.

  'Where is the traitor John Emrey?' one of them was demanding stridently.

  'Sir John, my son, is away from home,' Lady Emrey retorted with spirit. 'What is the meaning of this unmannerly intrusion?'

  One of the men, the taller, took a step towards her and Blanche, with a cry of anger, sprang down the stairs and stood protectively beside her mother.

  The soldier turned and looked her up and down insolently, a smile spreading slowly over his harsh features.

  'A tasty morsel, hey, Thomas? Young, but tender, no doubt.'

  'Blanche, go back upstairs immediately!' Lady Emrey commanded urgently.

  'Not so fast, my good woman. Who is this?'

  'By what right do you burst in here and question me so?'

  He touched his sword and cocked an eyebrow at her, but she did not flinch.

  'Answer me, woman, or you'll rue it!'

  'My name is Blanche Emrey. Who are you? And why are you here trying to bully us?' Blanche said swiftly, angrily, before her mother could reply.

  'Oho, complaisant too! We do well, Thomas! Mistress Blanche,' bowing ironically, 'we are come to requisition quarters for our troops who will be coming this way tonight, and this house is suitable.'

  'What is your authority?' Lady Emrey asked, suppressing her anger.

  Again he indicated his sword. 'God, Parliament, and the King!' he proclaimed loudly.

  'God chooses strange companions in this Parliament,' Lady Emrey commented acidly, 'and the King's wishes run counter to those of the rebels! You can scarce act for both!'

  'Be silent! I am not here to dispute with ignorant women! The men will arrive before supper. You will remain here to ensure all is provided fittingly. I will return soon. I beg you, Mistress Blanche, to do me the honour of supping with me.'

  He bowed to her while his companion, hitherto a silent spectator, sniggered.

  'I wish for nought to do with traitors to the King!' Blanche replied scornfully.

  'You'll sing a different tun
e by morning, I'll warrant,' was the only reply, flung over the man's shoulder as he turned and strode from the house.

  Lady Emrey sank onto a stool before the huge fireplace, pulling Blanche down to kneel beside her. She put her arms comfortingly about the girl.

  'Do they mean it?' Blanche asked quietly.

  'Indeed they do. We have been fortunate to evade such a visitation earlier, but we are somewhat remote in these northern hills.'

  'Can we not fight them – barricade the house?' Blanche asked.

  Lady Emrey shook her head sadly.

  'We have not enough men, for only the very young or old servants are left to us, the rest have gone off to fight. No, we can do nought to save the house from them, but we must not stay! I must hide you, for that villain's intentions were plain enough.'

  Blanche shivered. 'Where can we go?'

  Lady Emrey was thinking. 'I will send Mistress Evans and the servants away. They can go to their homes, or to friends, and it will be thought we go with them. We will seek shelter with Lizzie for a few days. I trust they will pass on soon, and we can return.'

  'Yes, Lizzie's cottage is well-hidden, and she will willingly give us shelter.'

  Swiftly Lady Emrey organised the servants. They were all sent away except for William, the old coachman. He buried the most valuable of the plate beneath a stone flag in the cellar while Blanche and Lady Emrey made bundles for themselves of their plainest gowns, and sewed their jewels into pouches to wear on belts round their waists.

  'We must pass as villagers if necessary,' Lady Emrey explained.

  'They might wreck the house! Cannot we hide more?' Blanche asked, distressed.

  'I dare not hide too much, for then they would suspect and search. As it is they might be content with what we leave them. Let us hope so. Come, we will pack all the food we can into panniers. If we turn all the horses loose they will graze on the hillsides, but first we will lead the pack ponies up to Lizzie's cottage with what food we can take, or she could not feed us.'