Held by the Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Blanche Dabney

  Rufus had let him down for the third and last time. Dead he might be and with no way of confessing Derek’s part in things but that still left the problem of Andrew to resolve. How to kill him?

  One thing was for sure, he would not rely on anyone else again. He would find a way to do it himself. But how?

  When they made jokes he laughed with the crowd but he offered none of his own. Instead, he sat silently making plans to solve his problems once and for all. He needed something that could not fail, something that didn’t involve men like Rufus.

  Andrew called for more ale, nodding a greeting to Derek when he saw him looking over at him. It was bad enough that all his plans had failed so far, to see that failure right in front of him was more than he could bear.

  He stood up, excusing himself quietly before leaving, heading down to the courtyard to think alone in the cool night air.

  He heard footsteps behind him in the mud less than a minute later. Turning he saw Andrew walking toward him. He managed to get the smile back on his face though it took all of his internal effort. “Not hungry, my friend?” Andrew asked, walking over to him.

  “Stomach pain,” he replied. “I was going to see James, see if he had some mint or chamomile.”

  “Before you go, do you have a moment?”

  “Of course, my laird.”

  “Beth mentioned a couple of things to me today.”

  “I was so shocked to hear what happened to her. It sounded awful. How is she?”

  The distraction didn’t work. Andrew spoke quietly with no hint of emotion to his voice. Derek didn’t like hearing him like that. Was he suspicious? “She said you helped her leave. Why was that?”

  Derek had his answer already prepared. “She was desperate to go see the old hall. She told me she wanted to see how the building work was going on. I couldn’t see the harm in it.”

  “Even though I told you to keep her safe here.”

  “Aye but I thought she’d be there and back before your return. She wouldn’t keep blathering on about it and you’d be none the wiser. How could I have known what would happen?”

  “You provided her guide, she said. Who was he?”

  “You’ll think me foolish but I showed pity on the villain. Said he was a beggar down on his luck. I offered him a groat to take her to the hall.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t want charity, he wanted work. I thought that was the best way to help them both. He seemed a decent enough man, I thought he’d keep her safe on the way there.”

  “I see. Well I won’t keep you if you’re stomach is bothering you. Off you go to James.”

  Derek could have laughed as he walked away. Andrew was so stupid. A few well placed words and it was all back to normal. He had gotten away with it.

  The joy he felt was soon replaced by anger again. If he was to get hold of the castle he needed rid of that man but how best to do it?

  He was no closer to a solution a fortnight later. In that time he had been forced to watch as the last of the work was completed on the chapel. All efforts had been focused on it, the battlements and the keep too big a job to get done before the winter. They had been covered over with cloth weighed down with stone to protect the mortar from frost over winter.

  Beth had brought all the laborers together to get the roof of the chapel completed in time for the visit from the bishop. She was hoping to have the last of the work done in time for a service of blessing on the coming Sunday.

  He stood in the courtyard watching the carpenters at work on the lengths of wood needed to support the roof. How had she become such an integral part of the clan in such a short space of time? He had been here fifteen years and still felt like an interloper.

  All he wanted was to be welcomed back into the MacLeishes, accepted by his father. It would happen if only he could come up with a foolproof plan for getting rid of Andrew or taking over the castle. Or better still, achieving both at once.

  Beth was talking to some of the workers and he tuned into the conversation, hoping to hear something to his advantage. It had been all he’d been able to do since their return, eavesdrop on them both. For the first time he realized she was saying something he might be able to make work. If only he could put the pieces together. An idea began to form in his head as she spoke.

  “We cannot take the falsework down until the mortar is set.”

  The man she was talking to was nodding his head though he clearly disagreed. “It will look awful for the bishop with the falsework still in place. I think it’s already set. It’s had longer than any of the previous.”

  “In this cold it will take far longer to set than the last lot.”

  “Why don’t we test it before he comes? Think how glorious it would look if he came and saw the chapel completed, the ceiling vaulted and the paint gleaming.”

  “I don’t dispute that but it must be set first if we don’t want it to collapse.”

  The idea took shape in Derek’s mind and he walked away smiling. He didn’t need to hear anymore.

  That night he joined in the laughter at dinner with the rest, thinking how none of them knew what he had planned. They would soon find out. When he sat at the chair in the middle of the top table as laird of the castle they would know what he’d done but by then it would be too late. He’d be in charge.

  That night he thought through his plan in detail. There were many things that might scupper it. All he could do was trust in God and himself and pray that it would work out for the best. After all, he had everyone’s best interests at heart.

  Get rid of Andrew. Then unite the clans and take on the English. If he was given the castle as his reward then that was just a piece of extra luck that he wouldn’t turn down.

  He pictured himself in Andrew’s place. The feasts they would have, the changes he would make. It would all be very different under his regime. He shook the thoughts from his head. That was for the future. What he needed to concentrate on was making sure his plan worked.

  On the Sunday the bishop was due to arrive the castle was frantic with activity. Fresh rushes had been laid in the hall and in the courtyard itself, forming makeshift paths through the mud. The livestock had been tidied away to pens outside the wall, everyone was in their best clothes in preparation for his arrival.

  It was so busy no one noticed Derek sneaking into the chapel. The work had finished two days ago but the falsework was still in place. Derek looked up at it. Even he had to admit that she’d done a good job. The springers aligned perfectly on top of the new pillars. The voussoirs were ashlar and perfectly white and the keystones on top were intricately colored in red and white.

  There was no chapel like it in all of Scotland. The vault of the ceiling would look perfect once the wooden falsework holding it up was removed.

  The mortar had not set and so the bishop was just going to have to imagine how it would look once finished. Derek had other plans. He fetched a ladder from the back of the chapel and climbed up, taking down the first piece of falsework.

  As it came out the stones shifted ever so slightly above his head before settling. Perhaps the mortar would be strong enough to survive after all. If that was the case then all his planning would be for nought.

  It would work, he told himself as he moved the ladder to collect the next piece of falsework. The ceiling would collapse on Andrew. He could already hear it groaning above his head. He smiled as he took the rest of the falsework out, gathering what he could under his arm and carrying it out of the chapel.

  It took three trips to get it all but the rushing about and hectic work around him played into his hands. No one noticed one more body carrying armfuls of things around. He dumped the wood around the back of the chapel, throwing rushes over the top to hide the falsework from view.

  Stage one was done. The bishop was due any minute and then the chapel would be filled with people ready for the blessing. There was only one more part of his plan to put into action and it was walking straight toward the
chapel at that very moment.

  Andrew and Beth were rarely seen apart anymore. There was already talk of a possible future wedding. Derek didn’t join in with the gossip. He knew for certain there would be no wedding because soon there would be no Andrew.

  He ran over to them at the front of the group heading for the chapel. “Beth,” he said. “Thank goodness I found you. I need a word.”

  “Can it not wait?” Andrew said. “The bishop has just arrived.”

  “There’s a crack in the outer wall,” he replied. “I thought you should know.”

  “What?” Beth asked. “Where?”

  “This way.”

  She turned to Andrew. “You go on ahead. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

  Derek smiled to himself. If she’d gone into the chapel with the others she’d see at once that the falsework was no longer supporting the stone roof. With her out of the way everyone else would assume the mortar was set and that she’d made the decision at the last minute.

  All he needed was to keep her out of the way, long enough for Andrew to get inside. It wouldn’t be more than a few minutes before the roof collapsed on his head.

  He headed out of the castle gateway just as the horns were blown to signal the bishop’s arrival. “Where’s the crack?” Beth asked as they headed down into the earthworks to look up at the towering battlements. “How serious is it?”

  “Further round the corner,” Derek replied, beckoning her on.

  He thought about the chapel, about Andrew standing by the altar at that very moment. Then he thought of all the others in there too. Most of the castle would attend the service, packing the place full, all eager to hear the blessing of the bishop. They would all be killed too.

  He felt a sudden lurch in his stomach. He’d been so focused on getting rid of Andrew that he hadn’t even considered that. All the old people, the children too. They’d all be in there. And then there was the bishop. What if the bishop died?

  Would he go to hell for causing the death of one of God’s own men? The thought made him fear for his soul. He’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have done it.

  “Are we there yet?” Beth asked as he stopped dead.

  “Aye,” he replied quietly, his mind elsewhere.

  “I see no crack,” she said, squinting as she looked up. “Are you sure it was here.”

  “Aye,” he said again, barely listening. It was too late to do anything about the chapel. If he told them all to leave they’d know he was the one who removed the falsework. They’d ask why and he could think of no plausible explanation other than the truth.

  Then he heard another set of horns. If the bishop had already arrived who was that being heralded? He looked up at the path leading to the castle gateway, his heart leaping into his mouth. It was his father and retinue.

  “I’m going back to the service,” Beth was saying but her voice came from far away. Had his father come to see the chapel being blessed? Was he about to kill his own pa alongside Andrew?

  “Are you coming?”

  He didn’t move.

  “I’ll see you in there then.” She walked away, leaving him frozen to the spot in the earthworks, with no earthly idea what to do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Sin by inaction is as venal as sin by action in the eyes of the Lord.”

  The bishop’s voice boomed out from the front of the chapel, loud enough for Beth to hear him from outside. She wanted to be in there, standing beside Andrew but there was no chance. The place was absolutely packed. Not only were most of the clan inside but two dozen MacLeishes had turned up and space had somehow been made for them but it took all the room there was to do it.

  She had left Derek in the earthworks looking up at the castle walls. There was something odd in his manner and she was glad to be away from him. She had never fully trusted him since he slapped her that time in the tower and he had behaved particularly oddly the last couple of weeks.

  Andrew had told her what he’d said about the beggar guiding her to the old hall but she had her own suspicions. After all, the words of the dying man had sounded like “Dirk,” which could have referred to the knife sticking out of him but could just as easily have been the word Derek.

  She tried to put him out of her mind, taking a step back to admire the chapel. It had been a labor of love, taking up almost every waking hour as she’d wanted to get it just right for the bishop’s visit. Something told her this was the reason why she’d come back in time. God had a purpose for her and this was it. She had completed a new chapel and she had done it in time for the bishop’s visit.

  He had originally been coming to check on the progress but with some quick calculations she realized it might be possible to finish it in time for his visit.

  Sure, the mortar hadn’t set and the roof was still a work in progress but what the eye didn’t see, the master mason got away with. He wouldn’t mind the falsework anyway, he would understand that mortar wasn’t something you could will into setting. It took time but once it was done, if done right, it would last for centuries.

  She thought of the old hall before the fire. She’d stood under her own vaulting work in the future and that had looked as good as on the day it was built.

  The bishop was still talking. “Those that by their own inaction allow pain and suffering are as guilty in the Lord’s eyes as those who inflict it by their action.

  Inaction would have left the old chapel standing but we stand today under this superb vault, glorying God above man with its simple grandeur and as I look up at the vault there is nothing between it and us, nothing between our prayers and God himself.”

  Nothing but the falsework, Beth thought, trying once more to squeeze through the crowd in the doorway, hoping for at least a glimpse of Andrew. She could picture how he would look, so proud of what she’d done.

  He loved her. The thought had woken her every morning and it had been the last thing on her mind before she slept each night. Etiquette dictated they remain apart come the night but she had not yet had to sleep in the hall with the majority of the castle residents. Instead, she’d been given a room at the top of the tower, eventually to become a guard room when the keep was finished but a place of her own until she went home.

  The voice of the bishop faded away as she thought about going back. She had tried not to think about it, easy to do as she dedicated her every waking hour to getting the chapel done in time. Now it was done, the thoughts were creeping back in. She would have to go home to find her mother and look after her.

  She wanted to stay but she couldn’t. She wanted nothing more than to lay in Andrew’s bed with him and feel those strong arms of his wrap around her, keep her safe from the perils of this time. After he rescued her in the wood, she felt as if nothing bad could ever happen again as long as he was around.

  Something brought her out of her thoughts. A noise in front of her. Above the sound of the bishop she heard it again. A creaking groaning sound. It faded away to nothing.

  The people inside the chapel hadn’t moved but she had a worrying feeling that the sound was that of stones shifting, pulling the wooden falsework with it. At least the falsework would stop any damage from occurring but once the service was over she would need to get the ladders out and examine where that noise was coming from.

  “We bless this chapel and I bless personally the master mason. Where is Beth Dagless?”

  “She’s here,” a voice said in front of Beth. People turned and looked at her, squeezing aside as best they could to let her walk into the chapel. She had to force her way forward and she was more than halfway through to the altar when she happened to glance up. She looked down, her stomach suddenly lurching as she glanced up for a second time. She hadn’t been imagining it.

  The falsework was gone. The arches were not being supported. It was the stonework that had groaned and it was groaning because the mortar hadn’t set. How long had the falsework been gone? Who removed it? She froze in place, the bishop calling her over
from a long way away.

  “We have to get out,” she said at once.

  It was like a bad dream. Everyone just looked at her but no one moved. Did they think she was joking?

  “We have to get out, now!” she shouted, waving toward the door.

  “Come and be blessed, my child,” the bishop said behind her. “God praises you for your glorious work on His chapel.”

  She scanned the crowd quickly as the ceiling above her groaned again. A quick look up and she saw the cracks spreading, the keystone right above her head had shifted two inches downward. Any further and it would come out, taking the rest of the ceiling with it.

  Andrew suddenly appeared next to her. “What is it?” he asked. “Why do you look so worried?”

  “The ceiling,” she said, pointing upward. “It’s coming down. You have to get them all out of here right now.”

  He looked where she was pointing as the people continued to stare without moving. There was a louder noise and a few of the crowd looked up, spotting the stones starting to shift and shake, dust beginning to fall from them.

  “Dinnae shout,” Andrew said to her. “They’ll panic and be crushed in the doorway. “This way.”

  He grabbed hold of her and pulled her through the crowd toward the open door. As they went he spoke low to the people nearest to him. They began talking to others and a ripple spread through the crowd.

  Beth was incredulous. Somehow his method was working. The whispers reached the doorway and the path was cleared, those who had crammed into the entrance and overflowed it were moving away, beckoning to the rest.

  As Beth reached the door she heard a creaking sound louder than any before. The keystone nearest the altar suddenly fell free. After that everything seemed to happen at once.

  The springers crumbled with the keystone, falling through the air and landing with an enormous crash. “This way,” Andrew shouted, darting back into the chapel and grabbing hold of people as panic broke out, shoving them out the door. His men were doing the same as more of the ceiling began to collapse around them.