Highlander’s Secret

by Adams, Alisa

  "I think that you had better let me do that!" Auguste said with a laugh.

  "Auguste, you are a Godsend!" Iona laughed.

  They sent for Pauline again. Auguste explained the situation. At first, the woman frowned in disapproval but when she saw the dark red fabric her eyes lit up. She held it up to the light then spoke to Auguste in rapid French. Auguste turned to them, smiling.

  "She says that it will be difficult to do, but it will be a pleasure to work with this quality of fabric, so she thinks she can have it ready by Friday." He paused to listen to her again. "However, it will be very plain. There will be no embroidery or beadwork on it."

  "Wonderful!" Iona smiled, her eyes shining, then she looked at Andie and raised her eyebrows.

  How am I doing? she seemed to be saying. Andie smiled and gave her the slightest of nods. Iona was giving a perfect imitation of being a young bride looking forward immensely to her wedding.

  They were still talking when Iona's brother Cameron came in.

  "Auguste!" He laughed. "It has been an age! My father has decided to stay and gamble with one of his friends tonight, so I am afraid he will not be here to receive you."

  "Cameron." Auguste bowed, smiling. "I must go, anyway. It will be dark in an hour or so. I have delivered my spices and some silk for your charming sister."

  "Silk?" Cameron frowned. "Since when did you sell silk?"

  "Iona will explain," Auguste replied. "I will be back before too long."

  Auguste had no love for the McCallums. He was civil to them merely for the sake of courtesy and, it had to be said, expediency, but he never engaged them socially. He could quite easily have done this since his wife was the sister-in-law of a Laird, but he found the Laird completely odious.

  He was indifferent to Cameron, but he had a lot of time for Iona. She was sweet but spirited and reminded him a lot of Alexa, whom he was missing with all his heart. He had never met Iona's mother Donalda, but then few people had since she was a complete recluse and rarely left her own suite of rooms in the castle. It was said that she was so ugly that she could not bear to be seen, but looking at Iona, Auguste did not believe that.

  "It is time for me to go," Auguste announced, smiling at everyone. "Au revoir! Stay well till I see you again."

  Iona escorted him out to the courtyard. Just as he was about to mount his horse, he turned to her and smiled. "Mistress Iona," he said, "you are going to make such a beautiful bride. I do not know if I will be back again before your wedding so I let me wish you many years of happiness now.”

  “Thank you, Monsieur,” she replied, “I will pass your wishes on to my intended.”

  Auguste mounted his horse and collected his two pack horses. He gave her one last smile then he was gone. Iona stood looking after him for a long time, wishing she had his life. She could not believe she was pinning all her hopes on hiding in a grocer's cart.

  The dress was finished on Friday as Iona had hoped. Pauline was an excellent seamstress; it fitted Iona like a glove and she almost felt regretful that she would not be wearing it. They had worked out a plan. Iona was going to throw a little party for the staff to celebrate her betrothal and they would invite the carter from the village to join them for a while. Since all the staff would be in the servants' hall there would be no-one there to see them climbing in.

  They went out for a walk on Friday afternoon. Fortunately, the weather was dry. It was cloudy but not too cold, and both women enjoyed the fresh air and the feeling of freedom it gave them. "Is this far enough?" Iona asked Andie as they got to the bank of the burn that ran about a mile from the castle. Andie thought for a moment.

  "Let us walk along the stream for a while then cross it," she suggested, "they will not expect that, and will go sniffing around a bit. We walk down the stream for a bit. When we get to the other side we can walk around that wee hill there then double back. We need to make our journey as winding and confusing as possible."

  "If things were not so bad this would be great fun!" Iona laughed.

  "It is sad that it has to come to this, though," Andie said, sighing.

  They took the route that she had suggested then went back to the castle. The next morning, they set out again, this time by another circuitous route. Cameron, Iona's older brother, saw them going out. "Going for a walk?" he asked, smiling at Andie. Despite his parentage, Cameron had managed to become a decent man, and he always treated both Andrina and his sister with the respect he thought they deserved.

  He was very much still in his father's shadow, but he had none of the Laird's aggression and cruelty, and the thought of bargaining for a bride would never have crossed his mind.

  "Yes, Cam," Iona said and smiled. "My last as a single woman."

  He smiled, but said nothing more, but waved at them as they left, his eyes following Andie longingly.

  "Was that a good or a bad thing?" Iona asked anxiously.

  "I don't think it matters if he saw us or not." Andie shrugged. "What can he say? That he saw two women going for a walk?"

  Cameron watched them as they walked away, feeling that something was not quite right. Though he had always secretly desired Andie, he had been too shy to say so, and like Iona, he knew that his future was not his own to do as he pleased with.

  13

  The Escape

  Iona and Andie came back an hour later, then closeted themselves in Iona's room. They took out their oldest cloaks and another thick woolen one. They packed their warmest dresses, hose, boots and scarves, then they took a blanket each. They reasoned that they might have to sleep in the open at some point and wanted to be prepared. At last, they were ready and stood looking at each other for a moment.

  "How do you feel?" Andie asked.

  "As if my heart is about to burst out of my chest," Iona replied nervously.

  They hugged each other tightly.

  "You are the best friend I ever had," Iona said, her voice husky with unshed tears.

  "And you are mine," Andie replied and kissed Iona's cheek. "Now, let us go before I completely lose my nerve!”

  Iona had thought long and hard about telling her mother but had decided not to for her own safety. She was heartbroken about it but thought it was the best course of action, so silently said her own goodbye and followed Andie. They waited until the cart had arrived and the carter had been downstairs in the servants' hall for about ten minutes before they made their move.

  Iona went first, negotiating the high-sided vehicle with Andie pushing her from underneath. Then Andie lifted her skirts and began to climb aboard with Iona helping from above.

  "May I assist you?" said a deep voice from behind them. They had been so busy concentrating on what they were doing that they had not seen Cameron coming up behind them.

  "Cam!" Iona cried, shocked.

  "Shush…" he hissed, "if you want to get away you must be quiet. Go to St. Gertrude’s." He pushed Andie up then said to Iona, "I am on your side, sister. I will stall them as much as I can. Trust me. Andie, I love you. Goodbye."

  Then he disappeared.

  Andie and Iona lay under a pile of vegetables looking at each other in absolute silence. Andie, I love you. The words went around and around in Andrina's mind. She was confused as well as afraid, and unsure of her feelings. She had never really thought of Cameron in that way, and although she knew he desired her, she had not realized his feelings amounted to love.

  Presently they heard the friendly, slightly drunk banter of the staff outside, as they sent the carter on his way. There was much shouting and sharing of the kind of remark that Iona and Andie were not used to hearing, but neither was shocked. It sounded as if the servants had a lot more fun than they did!

  For a few heart-stopping moments they thought they were going to be discovered, then they heard the horse's hooves begin to clatter. At first, the cart moved with a side-to-side swaying motion, which was uncomfortable but not sore. When they began to move faster, however, they were tumbled around painfully from side to sid
e, up and down along the stony, uneven road.

  They could hear Jim the carter's rusty out-of-tune voice singing some bawdy songs and had to resolutely stop themselves from laughing out loud. Both of them were blue with bruises by the time they got to the main road that ran past the convent. Although the cart would go straight past it, it was about quarter-of-a-mile off the road, so they knew there would be a walk, which would be the most exposed part of their journey. As soon as they saw the shape of the buildings in the distance, they began to carefully move all the vegetables and fruit from around and on top of them.

  Andie got out first, hung on the backboard of the cart for a moment, then let go. A few seconds later Iona did the same, and they were gratified to see that the carter, who was merrily inebriated, had not seen a thing. It was mid-afternoon by that time and they were at their most vulnerable. Although it was a dull day, they could still be easily seen, so they hurried down to the convent as quickly as they could. Iona hoped that no-one had missed them yet, but there was always the possibility of one of her father's men riding out on an errand.

  She had no doubt that the Laird would be at the convent either the next day or the one after that. For all his faults he was not a stupid man and although he used crude and evil ways to achieve his ends he had a good brain. However, Iona knew the way his mind worked. He would search the castle first, then he would follow her false trail, just in case she had gone on foot. After that, when he realized that the trail was leading him back to the castle he would abandon it before getting there. He was not a man who liked to waste time.

  Neither he nor any of his men would eat while they were in the saddle. When Craig McCallum was on a hunt he was driven by demons, and nothing would divert him from his purpose until he had achieved his aim. When he had exhausted the fruitless trail, he would enquire at the crofts along the way, and Iona hoped that he would not be too brutal with the farmers and their families. Not one of them had seen her, so they could tell him nothing, but he was quite capable of destroying their property out of sheer frustration.

  When they got to the gates they were met by a short middle-aged nun who introduced herself as Sister Susanna. She took one look at them and ordered the guards to stand aside so that they could be admitted.

  "Ladies," she said kindly, "I take it you are seeking refuge?"

  They nodded. "Sister," Iona began, "I am the daughter of a Laird who wants to marry me off to a man I despise. Our betrothal is meant to be tomorrow but I cannot face it. As you know, a betrothal gives him certain rights over me, and I-I…" her voice trailed off. She looked at the nun in a mute appeal for understanding.

  She felt Andie's reassuring arm around her shoulders. "I am her friend," Andie explained, "and her father would torture me or indeed anyone else to get information about her whereabouts, Sister. We need sanctuary desperately."

  Sister Susanna nodded. "That you shall have, my dears," she smiled, "and rest assured it would take an army to break in here. Even if it could, we have ways of escaping. So be comforted; you are safe."

  "And-and I would like to become a postulant, sister," Iona looked up directly at the nun, "I have no wish to be a bride, except a bride of Christ."

  Sister Susanna looked at her with a steady, scrutinizing gaze for a moment, then she said, "Are you sure, my dear? The taking of the veil is a serious commitment."

  "I am," Iona replied and for the first time, she thought that it could be true. Perhaps she was being guided this way by God.

  Sister Susanna still looked unsure but she seemed to accept Iona's assurance. She stood up. "I will show you where to sleep," she told them, "but we are rather full at the moment, so it may be a tight fit."

  "Sister, we would sleep in the stables as long as we are safe," Andie's voice had a trace of humor in it and Iona was glad to hear it.

  "Well, it was good enough for our Lord!" Sister Susanna laughed.

  Iona laughed too. she was feeling better already.

  As Sister Susanna had told them, the dormitory was crowded, but it looked like a palace to both Andie and Iona. Sharing sleeping space, a privy, dining room and washing facilities with complete strangers was a new experience, but it was not all unpleasant. There was much merriment among them, although Andie's and Iona's upper-class accents made the women and children reticent at first. However, they soon lost their reserve and began to treat the 'ladies fae the big hoose' like one of their own. They were all in the same boat, after all.

  In the evening the meal was stew, mostly made with barley and vegetables, but there was milk and bread aplenty, and Iona and Andie were soon satisfied. The children were fascinated by these two ladies who spoke so strangely. They imitated the way they spoke and even the way they walked, and many times they felt little fingers caressing the fabric of their dresses. Even in their plainest clothes Andie and Iona were the best-dressed women there.

  After supper, they helped clear away the tables and was the dishes, a novelty for both of them, although they did it with good grace. Iona desperately wanted a moment alone with Andie to talk about Cameron, but there was no opportunity till after all the work had been done. Then they went out to the cloisters. It was cold, so they wrapped up in their cloaks and sat close together for warmth.

  "I cannot believe what Cameron said." Andie shook her head in disbelief. "So casually, as if he was just saying 'hello' or something unimportant.

  "He had no time to be passionate, Andie," Iona pointed out. "How do you feel about him?"

  "I don't know," Andie's voice was unusually quiet, "I had no idea he felt so strongly. I always knew he was attracted to me, but not to this extent. Iona - I did not encourage him. Please believe me."

  Iona put a comforting arm around her friend's shoulder. "I know, my dear," she said, kissing her forehead, "to be honest, I am his sister and it is a surprise to me too, though looking back it seems obvious.”

  They sat for a while, their breaths steaming in the cold night air, until it became too cold for them to stay outside any longer. The moon was rising and Iona wondered what was happening in the castle. They would have been missed by now, but Iona doubted that her father had suspected the carter. It was dark, and she knew that it was not possible to go out searching at that time. Laird McCallum would not be wasting his time doing that. He would be scouring every inch of the castle to see if he could find her inside first, but this itself was a forlorn hope. It was a rabbit warren of corridors, tunnels and towers, with a hundred bedrooms and innumerable storerooms. Nevertheless, it had to be done.

  It took hours, even with a dozen men doing it. In the small hours of the morning, each man reported back to the Laird that neither his daughter nor her companion could be found. In one final gesture of defiance, Iona had left the beautiful red betrothal dress spread out on her bed. She had never had any intention of wearing it.

  The Laird took one look at it and tore it to pieces with his bare hands.

  14

  Donalda

  Cameron had often seen his father in rages. When he was a boy growing up they had terrified him, but as he grew older, taller, and stronger he had become less and less afraid. Then one day Craig laid hands on his son once too often. Instead of backing down, Cameron swung his arm back and punched his father full in the face. Craig had no sooner hit the ground than Cameron hauled him up and slammed him against the wall behind him. He looked into his father's eyes and saw fear in them for the first time ever. That was the moment he grew up.

  "Touch me again," he growled, "and I will kill you. Lay a hand on my mother or my sister and I will tear you limb from limb. That is a promise, Father. Do you understand?"

  His father nodded. Cameron let him go, then slapped him across the face with an open palm, leaving a perfect red hand print behind it. Craig never touched him again. However, now that Craig really had something to be angry about it was almost impossible to calm him down, and the only person who scared him was his son.

  Ever since the day his son had stood up to him Craig M
cCallum had been wary of Cameron, and it had been noticed by many of his men that the balance of power was shifting. Therefore, it had become Cameron's lot to discipline Craig, and by doing so help his sister and his love as well.

  "I wanted to speak to you, Father," Cameron told him, walking into Craig's office where he was pacing up and down as if he was determined to wear a hole in the carpet. Craig looked at him warily. Cameron sat down casually with one leg laid over the other, looking at his father with narrowed eyes.

  "We have wasted time looking all over the castle," he stated, "and found nothing.” He paused. “Why did you want to marry Iona to that fat slug anyway? You might have known she would do something like this."

  Craig's face took on a harrowed look. “I needed his money,” he admitted. "I had to save the estate from ruin.

  "What happened to all of Mother's money?" Cameron demanded. "It was a fortune, so I'm told. Where has it all gone?"

  "I made a few bad investments," Craig said evasively.

  "At the gambling table?" Cameron's voice was smooth, but there was an underlying threat in it. "So, you sold my sister to get yourself out of debt."

  Craig's silence was a tacit admission of guilt.

  "Right." Cameron stood up. "We may as well go to bed, Father. Whiskey?" He poured himself a generous measure then gave one to Craig. "Maybe this will help you to sleep. I will not wish you sweet dreams. Goodnight." He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Cameron ran up the stairs to the suite of rooms where his mother spent most of her time and knocked on the door. It was answered by her maid, Elisha, a little cheerful elderly woman who was utterly devoted to his mother Donalda. Her little wrinkled face with its dark, almost black eyes broke into a wide smile when she saw him.

  "Master Cameron!" she exclaimed, "yer mither is in the chapel, sir. Can I get ye onythin'?"