The Pretender's Lady

by Alan Gold

  “What’s that ruin?” asked Charles.

  Flora told him, “It’s what we call a broch. It’s a building that we think that the ancient Picts put up. You’ll find them all over Skye. Some of them are very tall, and there are stairways within them. Nobody knows what they were used for, but probably to climb and look outwards to sea in case of invaders. But what interests me more than some old broch is the crofter’s house over there. I’ve been watching it since we got here, and there’s no sign of life. No smoke, no animals, no people walking about. I think it might have been abandoned.”

  Neil shook his head, saying, “No crofter would abandon a good house like that.” He said that it was more likely a winter’s cottage for a farming family, vacated for the summer, and suggested that now they were rested, they walk cautiously toward the hut and see whether it could provide them with shelter while they pondered their next move.

  Flora cautiously knocked on the door while the two men hid behind the wall. They believed that a lone woman would present less of a threat if the house was occupied, but when there was no answer, she turned around and shook her head. “There’s nobody here,” she said. She tried the latch, but it was locked firmly.

  The other two walked down the path, and both tried the door, but it was solid and would require a strong shoulder to open it. Neil looked to the right and left of the door, and quickly found a washing bucket in the shrubbery beneath a window. He lifted it up, and beneath it found the key to the house.

  Flora and the Prince looked at him in amazement. “Think about it. Like I said before, this is most likely a hut used for a few months of the year by a farmer or a fisherman who probably lives in Dunvegan or some other village. He’ll not want to take the key with him in case he loses it, so he keeps it here, knowing that nobody in their right minds would willingly visit this godforsaken area.”

  He opened the door, and they walked inside. It was dank and there was a layer of dust on the table and floor, but it was tidy. Flora immediately opened the curtains and the two windows and they looked around. It was a comfortable home, though with minimal furnishings.

  “Here’s what I think we should do,” said Neil. “I’ll go and see what’s afoot in the nearest town, which shouldn’t be more than ten miles away. I’ll ask questions, maybe stay in an inn overnight, and find out where the English army is stationed. There’s no purpose in risking all our lives by blundering along roads if not five miles hence we come across a regiment of the duke’s men, and then we’ll all be hanged.”

  “But surely it’d be better if I went, because being a woman . . .”

  “No, lass. A woman on her own would be cause for gossip and would come to the attention of the English. But I could say I’m a fisherman from Uist blown horribly off course by the storm and needing food and rest before rowing back. I’ll be a local hero to have survived such a sea, and they’ll buy me drinks, whereas you’ll be questioned and under suspicion.”

  After he’d rested for half an hour, and judging the time to be approaching mid-morning, Neil bade the prince and Flora a farewell and set off down the path toward the rutted track and on to whatever village was nearby.

  They stood in the doorway of the house and watched him leave. Then Flora turned back and said, “If this were my house, I’d offer you a glass of ale or whiskey and some oatcakes. But all I can offer you is whatever meager provisions we’ve brought with us. But you can sit yourself down, Charlie, and rest your bones while I look through the cupboards and try to find anything that resembles food.”

  Prince Charles looked at Flora, and could barely prevent himself from laughing. “This is absurd. Here we are in a deserted crofter’s house acting like thieves in the night; me dressed as a woman, and you’re worried about entertaining me. Flora dear, you’ve suffered as much as have I. Might I strongly suggest that you come and sit down, and we wait for Neil’s return.”

  “But he won’t be back till tomorrow, and we’ll both be fiercely hungry and thirsty unless we find some food. There’s barely enough roast meat and cheese left to last us the day, let alone the night, so we’ll need to find food.”

  He removed his bonnet intent on helping her, but when she looked at his face, she said, “And you, Your Royal Highness, are in dire need of another shave. Your manliness is showing much too readily.”

  In one of the cupboards, they found some potted beef, dried venison and some smoke-dried haddock and dried oats. After she’d been to the well, Flora immediately put the oats into a bowl of water to refresh them so that they could have oatcakes and perhaps she could make some oat bread. In the garden, they found wild fruits and herbs. They collected additional water from the well, and wood to light the fireplace.

  Within an hour, there was the smell of a banquet. Flora had created a delicious herb soup, some oatmeal cakes and warmed some slices of venison and fish on a griddle plate. The prince watched her fussing around the tiny kitchen and enjoyed the sight of her slender yet strong body bending and stirring. He couldn’t help but think how refreshingly different she was to the bewigged, perfumed, and powdered ladies who inhabited the courts where he had spent most of his life. These women, all of whom knew how to play cards and sing and make music and conversation, would have been helpless babes in the situation he found himself. Yet Flora had set to with a delightful and very feminine vengeance and was making order out of the chaos in which they found themselves.

  He’d offered to help several times, but she’d told him very firmly that the last thing she needed was a man getting in her way while she was making a meal, even if the man looked more like her sister than her brother.

  They sat at the crude table and ate and drank. The meal was delicious, and the prince kept on commenting on how such a miracle had been produced by her in such meager circumstances. But Flora told him firmly, “Charlie, I thank you for your compliments, but the reason the food tastes like nectar is because we’re both hungry and exhausted. If you were in one of your palaces, this would taste like what your servants eat.” But she could barely contain her mischievous nature and added, “Of course, dressed like a woman, I’m wondering where you’d have eaten such a meal, upstairs or below stairs. Looking at you now, I’m wondering whether the royal personages in Europe would have treated you like a prince, a princess, or a serving wench?”

  Charles burst out laughing. He was feeling more relaxed and at ease than at any time in the past six months. Being on a delightful island, in a charming cottage, with a comely and attentive young woman, was every red-blooded man’s dream, and it was something on which he’d pondered ever since he began his long and lonely escape from the Butcher of Cumberland. But she was about to be married and was unavailable. Under his normal circumstances, he could have raised his eyebrows, and his servants would have procured a dozen women like Flora for his pleasure. But these were not his normal circumstances, and he could only rely on his own devices. Even so, every time he looked at Flora, he couldn’t fail but see her as a married woman with lots of children. And he would do nothing to mar the future of such a marvelous and spirited girl.

  They finished the meal and took the dishes outside to where the wash bucket was to be found. Flora tipped hot water from the kettle into the bucket and scraped the food from the plates.

  “I think it’s time that we used the rest of the hot water for your shave, Charlie. God knows you need one.”

  The prince nodded, and they went back into the house.

  “Take off your dress, and I’ll shave you,” she said.

  Without thinking, he removed his dress, bodice, and petticoats, which he placed carefully on a nearby seat. He stood before her, unashamed, in his linen undergarments. Flora tried not to look at his fine body, at the muscularity of his chest and arms, at his firm stomach but deliberately fussed with the bowl and lather. She looked away from him as she stropped the razor, but by the time everything was ready, she was forced to turn and face him. She realized that she was flushing and worried that he might see. And h
e did.

  “Do I embarrass you, Flora?” he asked.

  “No, not at all. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’ve turned as purple as a beet. I’m wondering if you’re discomforted by being so close to a man who’s almost naked.”

  “Och and away with you, you common-kissing coxcomb. I have a brother whom I’ve seen naked and they say that I was a wild girl while I was growing up. No, Charlie, to me you’re just a man in dire need of a shave.”

  She stood close to him and worked the brush over his cheeks and neck. Then she carefully scraped the razor over the contours of his face, until all the hair of his beard had been removed. Now she had to shave under his nose, which required her to look and stand closer at him to ensure that she did him no damage. She moved a step forward and placed a hand on his forehead.

  “You have such smooth and warm hands, Flora dear,” said the prince.

  “Hush now, Charlie, or I’ll cut off your nose.”

  She shaved his mustache, and then used a wet and warm towel to remove the remnants of soap from his face. She ran her hands across his cheek, ensuring that all the growth had been removed.

  “Could you do that again, Flora,” he said softly. “Could you stroke my cheeks again? It felt wonderfully gentle and kind.”

  If she were the color of beet before, she wondered whether there was a color of deepest red able to describe the look of her face now. She felt hot and flushed and found her shallow breathing to be coming in short, difficult gasps. She was feeling and behaving like a lovesick teenager and was mortified by her response. She bit the inside of her lip to try to control her impulses.

  Prince Charles put his hands around her waist and drew her to him. She sat on his lap. “Feel my cheeks again, Flora. It felt so very comforting.”

  She should have stood immediately and chastised him, but she didn’t. After the deadly experiences she’d suffered in the storm, the feel of his lithe body, his strong and young legs, his potent arms, pulling her into his naked chest, brought her close to fainting. She wanted to say something, to resist, to stop this silliness, but words had left her brain. She was incapable of moving; she couldn’t, she wouldn’t fight him.

  Feeling her submit, the prince clasped her tighter and held her waist to his. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. Then reason and memory suddenly took charge of them both, and he said, “Dear God, Flora, I’m sorry.”

  She sighed and said softly into his ear, “Charlie, I’m engaged to Mr. Alan Macdonald. I cannot be in this situation. Please understand . . .”

  He immediately let her go. But she remained seated on his lap, her arms still around his neck. Through her bodice, she could feel the shape of his mouth. It was smiling. “Flora? Do you want to stand, or are you content to remain like this forever?”

  “Beloved Christ and Lord God in heaven, Charlie, I don’t know. I’m powerfully drawn to staying here and not moving. I haven’t been this close to a man, a naked man, in years, and I’m overwhelmed. But . . .”

  “But?”

  “But I’m committed to another.”

  “As am I. I’m committed to marrying a member of a royal family. That’s my curse and my blessing in life.”

  “Then don’t you think that it would be better for us to separate.”

  “You’re the one who’s holding on to me, Flora.”

  “I know, Charlie, and for the life of me, I don’t understand why I can’t let go.”

  He put his arms around her neck and drew her face to his. They kissed, at first on the cheeks, but then on the lips. And continued to kiss until Flora felt as though she would burst from the passion welling up inside her.

  She pushed herself away from him, gasping, “Oh dear God, man, I must put an end to this. It can’t be. I can’t give myself to you when I’m to be the bride of Alan Macdonald. It would be so very wrong.”

  She stood, but her legs were as unsteady as when she’d first stepped out of the rowboat. She teetered to the door and took the shaving bowl out of the house, tipping the soapy contents over the garden. As she re-entered the house, she had to grasp the door’s frame to prevent herself from falling, so overpowered was she by the blood coursing through her body and the roaring sound in her ears. The prince looked at her and stood, his manhood and excitement still obvious.

  “You look as though you’re going to faint, Flora dearest. Can I get you something?”

  “Aye, you can find me somewhere to lie down. I’ve not been in such a girlish diddle-daddle in years.”

  He led her to the chair and she sat down heavily. He drew her a glass of water, which she drank greedily. “It could be because you haven’t slept all night. Or it could be because your womanhood is rising in you. How long is it since you’ve known a man?” he asked.

  She looked at him strangely. “Is that a question that a gentleman should be asking of a lady?”

  He smiled.

  “I suppose it depends on what you mean by ‘knowing.’ I’ve embraced and been very passionate with many young men while I was in my teenage years. But since I turned into my twenties, I haven’t had the opportunity to enjoy the company of many men for fear of spoiling my prospects of marriage. And I’ve not given myself to anybody. Not fully, if you take my meaning, though the Lord knows I’ve been close enough. It’s remarkable how much enjoyment young people can have without . . . without . . .”

  He nodded. He took her meaning well enough.

  “And you, Charlie. How long is it since you’ve known a woman?”

  “Touché. To tell the truth, Flora, the last woman I enjoyed was the daughter of a crofter in Lochinver. And that was more than two months ago. She felt sorry for me and the plight I was in. She had no idea I was the Prince Stuart, but thought that I was a Highlander escaping the Butcher of Cumberland’s men. It was more encouragement and sympathy than carnal lust, though she was comely enough in a rough and rude kind of way. Oh, we both enjoyed it, but it was closer to companionship than an act of romance.”

  “And before that?”

  “I have always been supplied with women by my servants. They scour the local towns and encourage any woman wanting advancement to meet with me and offer me her comforts. Before that, in the courts, I only had to look and smile at some highborn or noble lady who wanted to ascend to the highest echelons of the courts by way of my boudoir, and they’d be in my bed before I’d blinked. As a prince of the realm, even though our realm was taken from us, I was very high in the hierarchy and that appealed to a lot of women.”

  Flora smiled. “And is that what I’d be for you, Charlie? Only a woman who offered you comfort or wanted to climb to higher positions on your back? One of the many? A woman who’d sleep with you for advancement? Is that what you think of me, for if so, you’re badly mistaken. And being such a woman is hardly the role I’d envisage for myself.”

  He looked at her softly. “Dearest girl, please don’t begin to equate yourself with camp followers or girls of loose morals. For days and days, you’ve been a model of rectitude, probity, and morality. It’s been a pleasure knowing you. I’ve grown to admire you greatly in the time we’ve been together. I’ve admired your strength and your gusto and your love of life. It’s me who strongly desires you. These other women, and in that I include most of the women of the courts of Europe who only want to bed a future king of England in the hope that they might one day be queen, are as nothing to me. Yet I’ve grown strongly and passionately attracted to you. Your beauty, your strength of purpose, and your gentle nature.”

  “Charlie, you must desist from speaking like this. You must remember my station in life. Your words are . . .”

  “Look beyond my words, Flora darling. I’m a passionate man infatuated with you. I see in you the very essence and beauty that is Scotland. You, Flora, are the reason I’m here. A country is no more than towns and villages; a land is nothing more than soil and rocks. But the very essence of Scotland is you, Flora Macdonald. You’re my purpose in fighting to claim
what is mine. You are my victory.”

  “Oh dear God, you’re making me feel faint again,” she said, listening to his honeyed words and thrilling in the way he stood so close to her. She wanted to reach out and touch his firm and manly body, to caress him and hold him and fondle him and feel his breath upon her neck and his arms touching her breasts and her other womanly parts. And she wanted to grasp his manhood and feel its rigidity. It was years since she’d felt a man’s penis, upright and solid. The thought of it nearly made her faint. “Charlie, your words are making me giddy. You forget that I’m only a simple Highland lass, and you’re a man of the world . . .”

  “I forget everything, Flora, dearest. I know I shouldn’t be saying this out of respect for you and Alan and Hugh, but when I’m with you, I forget that I am a prince of the realm, that I’m a man escaping imminent danger, that between me and death, there’s only a moment of indecision. I forget who and what I am when I’m close to you. And when I was in your arms just now, I forgot my very existence. It was as though the two of us had become one and we were Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.”

  Flushed, she said, “Stop talking like this. Your words are flooding my mind and I’m losing my ability to resist you. I’m an engaged woman, Charlie. I have a man called Alan Macdonald who loves me and who trusts me. I’ll not betray his trust, no matter what my body urges me to do. Desist now, or I’ll be forced to leave this house and follow in Neil MacEachan’s footsteps. Now back away, Your Royal Highness. Let me recover on my own. Let me fight these silly, girlish feelings that are draining my body of its strength and let us retreat to the lives we were destined to live. Away now, Charlie, and remember who and what we are.”

  Spending the day walking in the nearby grasslands and looking over the cliffs to watch the gannets and gulls and cormorants wheeling and diving and fishing was precisely what both of them needed. Having spent his life in Rome and Paris, the prince hadn’t experienced how awesome Nature was in the wild. He watched in utter fascination as cormorants circled high above the sea, and then suddenly turned into slender spears that plummeted at dazzling speed into the water to emerge minutes later with a fish in their gullets.