Her mother’s hairbrush still sat by the mirror. Strands of white blonde hair twisted in the bristles.
Her powder, rouge, and scent were present as well.
A portrait hung on the wall, painted before Isabel was born. It showed her mother, father, and James. Isabel looked so like her mother. It comforted her to know that she had come from somewhere.
These days, feeling so lost and without her father being truly present, Isabel longed for some memory of her roots.
She laid her head on her mother’s pillow and soon her body was overtaken by sleep.
It was a restless sleep, filled with nightmares. Edan was walking away from her. She saw a faceless woman snaking arms around him and pulling him farther.
Soon he was gone. But James took his place and walked towards her. He smiled and gave her a bear hug as she had always loved for him to do. When he pulled away, however, he was a walking corpse.
Isabel sat up in the bed, gasping. She did not know how long she had been asleep. It was late evening when she wandered, but it was now pitch dark in the middle of the night.
Silently, she tried to make her way back to her room, but there was an occasional creak in the floor, announcing her presence.
At one step, the creak was too loud.
“Who’s there?” came the loud whisper of a guard. He came from behind the corner at the ready for a fight.
“Excuse me. It is only me. I fell asleep in another room before. I am only returning to mine,” she promised.
The guard eyed her suspiciously.
“Please do not tell anyone. I was only trying to return to my room. I was in my…my mother’s room before,” she whispered in a desperate explanation.
The guard’s eyes softened. “Be quick.”
She made it to her room with no further incident but was well aware that she was every bit as much a prisoner in this home she had grown up in as she was in the Scottish castle.
In the morning, Edan woke to find his sister sitting on his bed with a cup of some watery concoction.
“I hear ye may need this,” she offered.
Edan took the glass, squinted his eyes, and took a sip.
“Thank ye,” he said.
“Aye. Yer welcome. Anyhoo, yer advisors are wanting to see ye downstairs. In an hour. Ye may want to get bathed and clothed in something that doesnae smell like a distillery,” Caitriona said.
“Do ye ken what they want to talk to me about?” Edan asked.
“I dinnae ken. I’m not one of them. But Robert asked me to come get ye. He said it wasnae anything serious. Still, be at yer best!” she said, swinging an arm.
Caitriona departed, allowing Edan to clean himself and dress for the day. He gulped down the rest of the water and saw that Caitriona had also left him a bowl of oatcakes and nuts so that he could eat quickly before the meeting.
With a few bites down his throat, he had barely enough time to make it down the stairs.
“Gentlemen,” he greeted, realizing he was the last to enter.
“My Laird,” the men said in a chorus.
“What is this meeting about, may I ask? What would ye like to discuss?” Edan asked.
Wally stood. “Me Laird, we only wish to discuss whether or not matters are settled with the Duke of Gordon and his folk.”
“Aye, of course they are settled. Why do ye ask? Are ye wishing to attack them?” Edan asked.
The men grumbled their distaste for that idea. Edan was relieved to hear that it was not an option being put forth.
“Certainly not, Laird Edan. But we wanted to be sure that ye also dinnae want to fight and also that ye are sure they will not try to attack us again. It there any possibility that the girl will lead them back to us? Do ye think she might…accuse ye of anything?” Wally inquired.
Edan caught on to the question he was really wondering.
“Ye mean, do I think she will say I took advantage of her?” Edan asked to confirm.
“Aye, me Laird. That is oor fear,” Donald said from his place at the table. Wally nodded.
“I cannae imagine she would ever say such a thing. She’d have no reason to,” Edan said, embarrassed that he would have to defend himself to his council.
“We ken that ye are a good man, but we want to ensure there is nothing that might come back to harm us. Now that the Duke has his daughter back, the matter should be settled. He still doesnae have answers to account for his son, but he wasnae going to attack us for that before, why would he now?”
“Well, for yer peace of mind, ye can be sure that she will not accuse me of any such thing,” Edan said confidently, although a quiver of doubt found its way into his chest.
She’d never. Would she? Would Isabel try to use such a nasty thing to get her faither to kill me where she failed? No, I cannae imagine it. She is a right liar and even nearly a murderer, but she would never make such a claim against me, not something so horrific and false, he assured himself.
“Well then, Laird Edan. Can ye think of any other possibilities? Just that we might be on our guard in case,” Wally asked.
Callum gave Edan a warning look. Edan knew he was meant to interpret it as an excuse to discuss Cormag again, but Edan had told his uncle the matter was settled, and it would not be right to bring it up again at this time.
“I can think of nothing else that might bring danger upon us,” Edan said with finality.
But that look from his uncle stayed with him through the day. He knew there was nothing more to be done about Cormag, but his uncle? Was there something he had missed? Could it be that Callum was the key to real peace and handing him over to the Duke would be the best thing for the clan?
No, certainly not. There was no possible way that Callum had done it. Edan had gone around it in his head a thousand times. Callum hated the Brits, yes. But he would not murder his son’s dear friend.
Or would he?
Chapter 44
Isabel had had enough of feeling stuck inside the beautiful home they lived in. She was desperate for fresh air, for a taste of the world. For her feet to step beyond the door.
She began to wonder if she might be allowed a trip to London, supervised of course. Perhaps by her uncle or maybe the wife of one of her father’s advisors. Some Lady or Duchess, perhaps. She knew she would not be allowed to go just with Charlotte this time, but she needed out.
Staying in the manor was suffocating her.
However, she still had not worked up the courage to ask to leave. It would be long before she would be allowed such a gift and she had to concede to that.
London was too great to hope for. It would be a wonder to take her mind off all that had occurred, but London society had probably already heard of her escapades and society was often cruel.
Nevertheless, the gardens just beyond the door were certainly within her reach. They were still a part of the grounds the home was on. She used to walk among them often and it brought her peace to smell the flowers, feel the breeze, and be among such beauty.
Isabel changed into a grey wool, something drab and uninviting, that she might not draw attention to herself. She knew well that everyone was watching her in the home, the guards and maids and butlers, but she looked innocent enough in her wool.
Once dressed, Isabel left her room and made her way calmly down the stairs toward the door.
Out of nowhere, footsteps clacked against the stone floors and Isabel recognized the sound of her uncle.
“And where might you be headed, my dear niece?” Ezra asked. He was clearly irritated at having to babysit for her, and he remained suspicious that she would try to leave.
“Uncle, how are you?” she greeted pleasantly.
“I am well. Now I ask you again, where are you going?” he repeated with the same annoyance.
Isabel sighed, resigned to being caught.
“Honestly, Uncle Ezra, I just need to breathe. The fresh air is so awfully inviting! I will not go off the grounds. I simply wished to spend some time in
the gardens. Out of my room,” she explained.
“Ha!” Ezra said in amusement. “Really? You think for a moment that you might be allowed to leave this place? You think that there would be anything to convince your father that you should be given freedom to roam?”
“I only wished—” she began.
“Only wished what? To pretend to see the flowers while you run back to your jilted lover? So, you can beg his forgiveness as you begged ours?” Ezra challenged.
Isabel had considered this plan more times than she could count. But here and now, she was being utterly honest, and her uncle would simply not give her credit for it. He was convinced of her disloyalty and would not accept any other explanation. Furthermore, he had cruelly taunted her with her need for Edan’s forgiveness. A need which had utterly consumed her for the past week.
“No, Uncle. Truly. I just wished for some air, that is all. I have no intentions of returning to Scotland. Perhaps one day, if Father will join me. But I know that there is no such option for that now,” Isabel said with resignation.
“You are a greater fool than I had ever dreamt. You really think you will be allowed to leave ever again? Do you think I was not just in your father’s room as he ordered me to keep you behind locks at all times?” Ezra threatened.
“Uncle Ezra, listen! Please! I know my father does not want to let me out of his sight, but I cannot stay in this manor forever,” Isabel begged.
“This manor?” Ezra asked. “No, no, my dear niece. You wounded your father far too greatly to simply be stuck in the home. He has spoken with me. He fears that you might leave in the night.”
“What do you mean? I would not go again without his permission,” she promised.
“As you had his permission before? Do not forget that I was there. I know how you tricked him. So, we cannot risk you manipulating your way out again,” Ezra said.
“Then what is your plan for me?” Isabel asked in fear.
“Not mine, my dear. It is your father’s plan. He has asked that I have you locked in one of the rooms in the attic. Where he can be sure that you will not manage to escape,” Ezra informed her.
“The attic?” The horror on Isabel’s face was evident. Ezra flinched for a moment, aware that it was cruel, yet knowing it had to be done.
“Yes, my dear. I am sorry. It is what has been asked of me,” he said.
“Please, allow me to speak to my father!” Isabel begged.
“Of course. But do not think that you can change his mind on this. He is quite determined,” Ezra said.
“Can you not sway him?” she asked through tears. Her breath was coming in short, anguished bursts.
“I fear that I cannot. He has set his mind to this, Isabel. You left him, and this is the consequence. He will not be without you. For your father, it is better that he keeps you captive than lose you to the world once more,” Ezra stated with finality.
“I have done so many terrible things, Uncle. Can it be true that the worst of them all was the fact that I left?” she asked.
“To your father, it was a betrayal of the worst kind.”
As promised, Isabel was allowed to go to her father’s room and ask him to reconsider his punishment of locking her away in the attic.
The thought of being up there terrified Isabel. It was lonely and cold, far from anyone else in the household. She would be extinguished up there, in the quiet and lonely rooms.
“Father, I am told that you wish for me to remain in the attic. I am certain this cannot be true. Please tell me that it is misunderstood,” Isabel asked with hope and desperation.
“I have no other choice,” the Duke said, his voice croaking with the words. His eye remained closed as it often did even while he spoke of late.
“Yes, Father. Yes, you do have a choice! You need not resign me to this awful fate. I can continue, you know. I can be a good girl. An obedient and trustworthy child. I can be what you wish me to be,” Isabel promised.
“No…they will come for you,” he said.
“They will not, Father! It was my fault,” she said.
“You must be hidden,” he replied.
“It is not so. I will stay with you. Please do not send me to the attic to be locked away,” Isabel cried.
“What is a father to do? To…keep his daughter safe,” he mumbled.
“I will stay on the grounds. I promise you,” she begged. Isabel’s eyes were spilling over with tears and she gripped her father’s hand in desperation.
“My dear…” the Duke groaned. “It must be done.”
“No, Father, I beg you. Please do not do this!” Isabel wailed. Her voice was rising in pitch for her fear was so great.
“Must…keep you…safe,” he said.
“I will stay. I promise you I will not leave,” she continued to cry out.
“My children are always leaving me…” the Duke whimpered before drifting back into his rest.
Ezra swept his hand in the air and the guards came and took hold of Isabel’s arms. They began to drag her from the room.
“No! Father please! Wake up! Do not do this!” she screamed.
Isabel tried to kick at the guards, but her strength was no match for theirs. They held her, trying to keep their faces stern despite evident uncertainty about what they were doing.
Her cries resounded through the enormous manor until Isabel was dragged up the final staircase. The attic was divided into many large rooms, most used merely for storing treasures and family secrets.
Isabel was now to become one of those secret relics. She would be forgotten before long, a corpse discovered one day by a savage or a scavenger when dukes and princes were a thing of the past.
I am to die up here, she thought with certainty. No one shall come to my rescue. My father will forget me in his state. My uncle will be ready to be rid of my burden.
Indeed, it seemed a certainty that Isabel would not make it through this trial. Only time could tell, but she imagined she would be dead before long.
The guards carried her into the room which would be her newest prison. A small bed sat close to a table with a candle. It was not a large room. It did not have the warm comforts of the room in which she was captive in Scotland.
Without even a match to light the candle, the guards gave a final apologetic glance before closing the door and locking it on the other side.
Isabel gave a final, shrieking scream before all in the home went quiet.
Chapter 45
“Ye are filled with lies!” Cormag shouted. “Wait until yer nephew learns them all!”
It had finally come to an end, their dispute. Callum had failed to get Cormag executed and Cormag realized that Callum never intended to have him reinstated to his previous position.
“Ye cannae tell him a thing!” Callum insisted.
“See if I won’t!” Cormag shouted, stomping away in the mud.
It had been a rainy morning and all the earth was a slush of brown, dirtying the boots of any man who dared venture out into it.
Cormag and Callum had not seen the strong figure nearby, the one who had journeyed to their place just beyond the tree line of the forest for no other reason than to hear their argument.
Edan had been in the stables grooming the horses when he saw his uncle and his former warrior squabbling yet again. But now, he stepped from his hiding place and watched the horror take shape on his uncle’s face at being discovered.
“Edan! H-how long have ye stood there?” Callum asked.
“Long enough to ken that ye be keeping secrets…according to the man ye keep telling me not to trust. It makes me wonder, though. Who am I not supposed to trust here? Me own kin who isnae telling me things? Or the man we all ken to be an atrocity?” Edan asked.
“Me Laird…” Callum began, unsure of where the sentence would lead. He could tell the truth. But that would cause such pain and even further questions. He could lose Edan’s trust forever.
“Uncle, I dinnae understand, what is it betw
een ye and Cormag? Why is he so determined to hold something over yer head and why do ye keep telling me not to trust him?” Edan asked.
“Please, Edan, drop it. It isnae any of yer business,” Callum replied, continuing to walk as if to rid himself of Edan’s questioning.
“Did ye kill James?” Edan demanded with anger, standing firm in the hallway behind his uncle.
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