Kristin Vayden

by Surviving Scotland

  “‘Twould be wise ta speak about it in the morn,” Ioan suggested.

  “‘Twould be wise for Elle ta stay in her room if she didna want a quick betrothal.”

  Footsteps echoed in the hall and laughter rang out clearly. I heard Cullon’s laugh mix with feminine, and I closed my eyes, wondering how my uncle would react.

  “Cullon?” came my uncle’s bewildered voice.

  “Aye?” Cullon cleared his throat and I wished I could have seen his expression. The female laughter ceased and I grinned to myself.

  “Where’s Elle?”

  “Elle?” came Cullon’s puzzled response. Light footfalls echoed as the maids most likely made their hasty retreat.

  “Aye, yer betrothed!” My uncle was losing his patience, and I peeked around the edge of the bed slightly. Ioan was blocking as much of the door as possible, no doubt trying to prevent my uncle from looking in.

  “Betrothed?” Cullon questioned.

  “Aye! She’s missin’! I had a thought that she was with ye!”

  “No…” Cullon’s voice trailed off.

  “Then where is she?”

  “She’s no’ in her room? “Cullon spoke.

  “No! I wanted ta give her a gift for her upcomin’ weddin’, and the lass up and disappears!” My uncle began to shift from foot to foot and I noticed he carried a dark wood box.

  “Step aside, Ioan, an’ I’ll put this in yer room while we search for her. The threats weren’t idle, and I’ll no’ have her put in danger because o’ that foolish stubborn streak of hers.” My uncle tried to push past Ioan but Ioan wouldn’t budge.

  “I’ll take it fer ye.” Ioan reached out and tried to take the box. My uncle handed it over carefully. As Ioan turned to place the box on the bed, my uncle’s eyes narrowed as he glanced to the floor in Ioan’s room. I quickly reached up and touched my hair. Gone. My ribbon and the scarf I had worn in my hair were on the floor. With aggressive steps my uncle marched into Ioan’s room and picked up the scarf and ribbon off the floor and examined it carefully.

  “Ioan,” my uncle spoke guardedly.

  Ioan turned and froze, seeing the scarf in his hand.

  My uncle narrowed his eyes at Ioan, studying him. I watched, unable to move. The scarf was clenched in my uncle’s left hand and his eyes examined it closer.

  “Do ye want ta tell me who this belongs ta?” My uncle began to walk closer to Ioan till only the stretch of a man’s step separated them. Ioan towered over my uncle, but there was an authority my uncle commanded, one that Ioan respected. I knew he wouldn’t lie, not only would that dishonor him and me, but it would dishonor my uncle as well.

  “‘Tis Elle’s,” Ioan spoke calmly.

  My uncle nodded then closed his eyes, shaking his head. I held my breath as I waited.

  “Me laird? ‘Twould be best for me ta speak with ye in private—”

  “Nay, ye speak with me now!” my uncle shouted, throwing the scarf down. His face turned a purple shade, accentuating his building anger.

  “I—”

  “I send ye away! And what do ye do? Ye take her! She should be marryin’ Cullon Campbell!”

  I watched Ioan listen to my uncle’s anger with quiet respect. Though I wanted to stand up and explain to my uncle, something held me back. This was Ioan’s battle.

  “My laird?” Ioan’s voice rumbled with quiet patience yet steeled authority.

  “What? What do ye have ta say fer yerself?” My uncle threw an angry hand gesture toward Ioan and began to pace.

  “I love Elle. And I did obey yer orders ta take her ta Cullon. Though I didn’t leave her there. It nearly killed me ta watch as Cullon courted Elle. But I did it, kennin’ she deserves better than me.” My uncle glanced at Ioan’s honest expression yet continued pacing. “If it were just me, then I’d have walked away once she settled. Once I knew she was cared for.” Ioan shook his head. “Ye ken the fight I’ve struggled me whole life, knowin’ she deserves more than me. Yet she chose me, me laird. Elle chose me. And ye need ta know, I’ve acted honorable toward yer niece.”

  My uncle ceased his pacing and regarded Ioan with a shrewd gaze. His eyes bore into Ioan’s, and after several prolonged moments, he exhaled heavily.

  “Bring her ta me,” my uncle demanded.

  “Aye, my laird.”

  My uncle nodded then stormed out the door, his footsteps echoing in the hall as he made his way to the stairs. Ioan closed his door and leaned against it, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

  “Elle?” he called quietly.

  “Aye?” I stood, my knees stiff from hunching over, and walked to him. He reached out and held me tightly for a moment, kissing the top of my head. His warm breath heated my scalp, and I shivered with awareness.

  “We best be goin’… yer uncle isn’t known fer his patience.”

  “Aye, but I must speak with ye first.”

  Ioan’s gaze pierced me with a questioning expression before he took my hand and rubbed his thumb over my wrist. Delightful sensations vibrated through my body, but I resisted the temptation to place a lingering kiss to his inviting lips.

  “I dinna come here ta steal a kiss or two, but I learned something this night that I needed ta share with ye.” I spoke with a brighter tone, hoping to lighten the heavy tension left by my uncle.

  “An’ here I thought the lass missed me…” Ioan teased, a bit of the tension easing in the lines around his eyes.

  “Well, perhaps I did, just wee bit,” I teased. “But, this night I spoke with Morag… me grandmither.”

  “Aye, wait. She dinna tell ye long ago? Why would she no’ speak o’ yer family ties?”

  “She said it wasn’t wise… and that I needed ta rely on myself.”

  “Aye, such words sound like Morag.”

  “But she also spoke of me father and mither.” I paused and glanced down at my hands. “There is more ta the story o’ my uncle wantin’ an alliance with Cullon.”

  Ioan nodded. “Go on.”

  “‘Twould seem that me mither was ta marry Cullon’s father, Niall. But her heart already belonged to me father, who was a warrior for her father.” I went on to tell him of the valiant fight my father raged against the enemy as he saved my mother then kissed her in the glen, only to be found by Niall.

  “An’ their story is far too similar ta ours,” Ioan concluded.

  “Aye.”

  “Why did yer uncle dislike yer father?” Ioan asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “The clan was low on funds, an alliance would have alleviated the stress my uncle felt as laird by filling the coffers. Also, he thought me mither deserved better than a warrior.”

  “I see.” Ioan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, resting his head against the door.

  “‘Twill no’ be easy, explainin’ you and me ta me uncle.”

  “I never thought ‘twould be, Elle.” Ioan’s green eyes opened and he gazed at me intently.

  “We best go. Yer uncle willna be more amicable if we tarry longer; quite the opposite. And we need all allies at this point.”

  “Aye.” I nodded and Ioan leaned forward, placing a warm and fervent kiss to my forehead.

  “Give me a moment ta fix me hair,” I spoke as I bent to pick up the scarf.

  “Ye do appear ta be thoroughly loved,” Ioan spoke with an arrogant charm.

  “Aye, too bad ‘tisn’t true.” I winked and gave him a saucy grin. He shook his head and stepped closer.

  “Fer now, Elle, fer now.” Placing a quick, yet passionate, kiss to my lips, he backed away and opened the door.

  “Are ye ready?”

  “Aye.” I reached for his hand and walked into the hall.

  Chapter Ten

  My heart pounded as we approached my uncle’s study. Each footstep closer took my heart into a faster frenzy. How was Ioan so calm? He glanced over at me with a peaceful expression that was the opposite of how I felt. Ioan knocked on the door and stepped back, releasing my hand and exhaling loudly.
/>   “Aye, enter,” my uncle’s voice boomed through the door.

  Ioan nodded toward me then opened the door, allowing me to enter first. The familiar smell of smoke and sweat assaulted me. The sound of Ioan’s footsteps behind me offered a measure of comfort. With a heavy exhale, my uncle regarded us with a scolding and impatient expression.

  “Where were ye, Elle?” my uncle asked, watching my face intently.

  “I came ta know some important information that I wished ta discuss with Ioan, so I was with him.”

  “In his room?”

  I swallowed. “Yes.”

  My uncle closed his eyes.

  “Elle, ye’ve put me in a difficult position here.” I waited as he tapped his fingers on the desk and regarded me. “We are keepers o’ the Truth, the Holy Scriptures. Ye have a responsibility ta guard yer honor, yer reputation. How can I explain yer actions ta Cullon?”

  “Cullon?” I questioned.

  “Aye, ye intended ta marry him, aye?” My uncle nodded encouragingly to me.

  “No, Uncle. I dinna intend ta marry him.” I shot a questioning glance to Ioan, but his focus was on my uncle.

  “What changed yer mind, lass? Ye left here givin’ me yer word!” My uncle’s voice began to rise as did the red color of his face as he spoke.

  “I dinna give ye me word that I’d marry Cullon, Uncle.”

  “Aye! Ye did! Right here!” he slapped his desk and fumed.

  “Nay.” I tried to keep my anger in check at my uncle’s stubborn insistence of my marriage to Cullon. “I gave ye me word that I’d meet him and get ta know him. And I did. I stood by me word.” My words were spoken with a steely resolve.

  My uncle regarded me with narrowed eyes.

  “Then what were ye plannin’ celebratin’? And why did ye bring Cullon here if ye weren’t ta marry him?”

  I sighed heavily. “Uncle, I wish ta marry Ioan. Cullon and I agreed that we didn’t suit and…” I paused to insure I had his attention. “…Cullon was the one who brought Ioan and me together.”

  “What?”

  “Cullon brought us together, Uncle. He’s here ta support our decision, no’ contest it.”

  Uncle Maol’s expression was unreadable, as he seemed to think over my words. “Ye deserve more than what he can offer. Yer clan deserves more than a poor warrior.” He narrowed his eyes at Ioan and my heart broke for the insult hurled at the man I loved.

  “What do ye want, Uncle? Money? Wealth?” I spoke with a low and frustrated tone. “For me ta be used as a means of bargainin’ fer somethin’ ye need or want? And ye say ye love me!” I shouted.

  “I do love ye! Just as I loved yer mither!” he shouted and stood, placing both arms spread across his desk.

  “Me laird?” Ioan’s soft inquiry sliced through the tension. We each turned to him with different expressions.

  “What?” My uncle barked.

  “What is it that ye want fer Elle?” Ioan took a step toward my uncle, an open yet respectful expression on his face.

  “I want her ta be cared for, ta have security an’ the love of an honest man. But at the same time, ta no’ endure goin’ without all she deserves. An’ ye donna have the means ta provide those things fer her, and neither does the clan! Thanks ta ye! I saw her mither go without, an’ I swore on her grave that I’d no’ let Elle suffer the same.” My uncle’s tone was broken.

  “Was her mither so unhappy? Did she fret about such things?” Ioan asked tenderly.

  “Nay, yet she should have! She could have lived in Dumbarton, by the sea. She loved the sea. Yet she lost her life the moment yer father went ta the hereafter. He stole her from me twice, and I willna let the same happen ta ye.” My uncle gestured toward me.

  “Uncle…” I walked toward him and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Uncle, ye love me. I know ye do. Though I understand yer hesitation with Ioan, because o’ me mither and father, I trust ye ta see that ‘tis genuine, our love for one another.” I paused, hoping my words sunk in. “Cullon. He is a good friend, yet I’d never love him. Though marriage is oft no’ about love at first, wouldna ye agree that ‘tis a blessin’ when found? How much more so when found early?” I bent my head to make eye contact and held his gaze with my own.

  “I do choose Ioan. ‘Tis him me heart beats fer. Yet, Ioan, havin’ the integrity o’ a thousand men, willna marry me unless ye agree. Is there any more measure o’ respect or love, Uncle? How many men would do the same?”

  “Ye are so much like yer mither.” My uncle shook his head but his eyes were tender as he gazed at me with a mix of frustration and resignation.

  “Yet stubborn like me father?” I guessed.

  “Aye.”

  “I know ye wanted more fer her,” I whispered.

  “I did.” He nodded.

  “Though perhaps Ioan canna provide what ye think I need in this world, he can provide me with somethin’ no one else ever could, the verra thing I do need. Himself. Because me heart canna love another. ‘Twas made fer him.”

  “Me laird?” Ioan stepped forward. “Me heart has ever been known ta ye. Ever have I loved Elle, completely. Yet she speaks the truth. I willna disrespect ye or Elle by going against yer wishes.”

  “Ye donna have a choice any longer.” My uncle sighed heavily.

  My eyes widened as I waited for him to explain.

  “Ye’ve been alone with him, Elle. And he is honor bound. The handfastin’ will be in a week or so.. Now leave me.”

  Ioan nodded soberly and waited for me to precede him out the door. I hesitated and took a step toward my uncle, but Ioan shook his head ever so slightly and I paused. After expelling a heavy breath, I walked out into the hall. The sound of the door closing behind me weakened my knees as I realized the amount of pressure I’d been under in that room. Ioan’s arms banded around me and offered me strength.

  “‘Tis finished, Elle. ‘Tis finished.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes, inhaling his scent. Handfasting. Was that the wedding or betrothal?

  “Ioan?”

  “Aye?” Ioan regarded me with a tender gaze as he paused at the top of the stairs.

  “What exactly is a handfastin’?”

  “Ah, ye donna remember that, do ye?” Ioan shook his head and drew me closer.

  “‘Tis a betrothal and marriage, all in one. It either pledges me life to yers at that moment or in the future. But is a marriage either way. Long ago, a few clans used it as a trial marriage of sorts. The two people, when handfasted, would be married for a year and a day, yet at the end of that time, have the choice to remain married forever, or turn away to another.”

  “Divorce?” my heart shuddered. Is that what my uncle expected?

  “Aye. Yet when we Scots were reformed, ‘twas acknowledged by most that betrothal and marriage was a covenant to be honored, and the trial marriage wasn’t used as oft.”

  “‘Tis a relief, that. I donna want me uncle expectin’ anythin’ but forever.

  “Me either. Yer uncle is loyal ta the Covenanters, and we’re part of the Presbyterian belief that marriage is sacred, holy and no’ ta be disgraced. Not everyone of the Covenanters hold tightly to this, yet yer uncle does. ‘Tis worthy of respect, Elle.”

  “Aye. So when he says we’ll be handfasted…” I waited for him to confirm what my heart hoped.

  “We’ll be married, Elle, no’ fer a year and a day, but fer as long as we live.”

  “Good.” I nodded with a grin.

  “Aye, I agree. A chuisle mo chroí. The pulse of me heart is you, Elle.”

  Ioan escorted me to my room and kissed my nose goodnight before turning to his own door. I walked into my room and began to remove my boots, when a knock sounded. With one boot on and one off, I opened the door.

  “‘Tis yers. I tho’ perhaps ye would want it tanight.” Ioan’s voice was soft as he gazed lovingly into my eyes.

  “Thank ye.”

  Ioan nodded and returned to his room, closing his door with a muted thud. I carri
ed the wooden box into my room. Once it was set on the floor, I traced the strange inscription at the top.

  Þeccr hyggja trúliga. The etched wood was carved in a foreign script and I wondered what it meant. I lifted the heavy lid and found an old tartan, as well as a bone-handled knife. The items were set aside and I searched further. A layer of fabric covered a few strange items that seemed quite old, and a piece of parchment at the bottom. I opened the folded sleeve and five coins fell to the floor, spinning and rolling away. I quickly slapped my hand down to stop them from traveling farther, and I picked one up, studying it. The smallest one carried a CR inscribed in Gaelic. It seemed strongly familiar. I studied the rest of the coins and had the same unsettling sensation settle in my belly.

  I knew these coins.

  I gathered them back into the parchment sleeve and set them on my bedside table. The rest of the items were returned to the box, and I set it in the corner of the room. As I readied for bed, my thoughts continually strayed to the coins and why they seemed so familiar. Could my memory be returning? Would this be the piece of the puzzle that allowed all the many others to fit? I crawled into bed, then rose, padding lightly over to the wooden box. I lifted the lid and pulled out the old tartan and carried it to my bed. With a heavy sigh, I thought of Ioan, and how soon I’d be sleeping in his arms.

  Dreams overtook me immediately. Massive, beautifully decorated halls, large libraries, and thousands of faces flew through my mind in quick succession. Though sleeping, my mind was aware that these visions weren’t imaginary, but real. Memories of my Grandmother Ansley flooded in next. Images of her watching my fencing lessons and sitting to tea with me, while she grinned over her fine china cup, all poured into my mind. Emotions of insecurity and self-recrimination over my inability to fit in were soon replaced by sorrow, loss, and confusion as my mind slowed and replayed the letter and necklace I was given after burying my grandmother. Next I remembered waking up in the glen, lost, confused, and found by Ioan, only I didn’t know him. The edges of my dream faded to grey…

  ****

  A gasp shook me awake from the dream that was too real to be only imagined. My heart pounded with realization as the pieces of my life fell together. Could it be true? Wasn’t it impossible to fall backward through time? The pounding of my heart was loud in my ears as the room began to spin. The dizzying sensation began to fade and I sat up, glancing out the window. It was still dark. I shook my head as the memories began to flood my mind once again. As I began to filter the memories and sort them, I came to a surprising conclusion. I remembered the confusion as I arrived at the keep, riding with Ioan. The strange people and rustic castle were beyond frightening. But through catching a fever and having my memory eliminated, I was given blessed ignorance. Would I have fallen in love with Ioan if I had been aware of just how much separated us? Would I have spent time on a friendship when I knew I didn’t belong with him, in his time? My stubborn mind whispered the answer. No. Too much would have vied for my attention. The rational part of my mind would have argued with the idea of falling in love with a man I could one day wake up and find existed hundreds of years ago. That very same thought made my blood run cold. I didn’t want to return home, to my time, to London. Not once had I fit into society. Only my grandma and family accepted me. And Ioan… Ioan wasn’t there, and my heart would cease its beating rhythm if I carried the knowledge that he no longer lived. The very thought brought tears to my eyes as I rocked on the soft mattress and tried to pull myself together.