All he had to do now was figure out which convent she had been taken to. That was going to take a bit more than whisky, and Hamish knew the perfect man to aid him. Though he did not know John very well, they had a couple of meetings around the castle, but there was nobody that knew Alastair better. If Hamish was going to get to the truth surrounding Lady Sutherland’s conversation with Isobel, he would need the help of someone who could convince Alastair it was the right course of action—and for the betterment of the Grant Clan.
Chapter 16
Deceit
Alastair was dressed, standing in front of his mirror, heart heavy. There was loss there, he supposed, in that he was losing his freedom. His freedom of life, of being able to choose. Isobel was not his choice, but it was a duty, and one he took seriously.
There were sounds from the garden that he knew well; people gathering together to help with putting up the tent that would house the wedding ceremony. While not necessary in most of Scotland, it was something inherent in the Grant Clan, and Alastair had been adamant on this point.
Lady Sutherland, reluctant to allow it, and wanting Alastair and Isobel to marry as soon as possible, had almost put her foot down.
“I will nae allow it,” she had said when Alastair brought it up in negotiations. “Clan Sutherland wed almost immediately.”
“I ken that for a falsehood,” Alastair pointed out. “There hae been many public ceremonies within the Sutherland Clan.”
Alastair had not attended any himself, but the Highlands weren’t immune to gossip. Word of mouth spread quickly and talk of the marriage between Bryce and his wife had been an affair of great repute.
Eventually, Margaret had given in to pressing from Alastair, though she had rushed it by claiming she wished to see her daughter married quickly.
While not particularly keen to get married too quickly after the arrangement had been set, Alastair was heartbroken, and the wedding seemed to alleviate some of his despair.
Now he was waiting to be married, staring at himself in the mirror and wondering how quickly he could run if given the barest of hints that it was required.
A knock at the door startled him, and he ran a hand over his face, trying to regain the calm he had before dressing. “Enter.”
“Alastair.” John pushed through the door, Hamish on his heels. The two of them were red-faced, as if they had been running. “Ye can’t get married.”
Though this was the very thing he had been hoping for not a moment ago, Alastair drew himself up to his height. “This is fer the guid of the clan–“
“Tis nae like that,” John said, words tumbling over themselves as if in haste to leave his mouth. “Ye are being duped.”
Alastair frowned, not understanding. “What are ye talking about? Who’s duping me?”
Hamish coughed politely from beside John and took over, giving John a sly look as he did. Alastair was grateful; Hamish was never once to mince words. “Lady Sutherland and her daughter have sent Catriona away.”
“They sent her home,” Alastair said with a nod. This he already knew, and he was not happy at the reminder.
“Nae,” Hamish said, expression angry as he gestured out of the door behind him. “They sent her away to a convent, one we managed to locate, because they wanted her oot of the way of the merrig.”
Alastair had known Margaret was mad about that moment beside the Loch, but he could not have foreseen this. What could she possible have to fear from Alastair not wanting Isobel? There were plenty of Lairds out there who would have jumped at the chance to align themselves with the Sutherland Clan. While it would have secured Grant Clan’s future, there were other options, even if Alastair had allowed himself to consider Catriona as his future.
John was watching his face carefully and placed a hand on his arm. “There’s more, Alastair.”
Hamish moved to close the door, and Alastair wondered what could possibly be worse than having Catriona sent to a convent through his own actions. When he returned, Hamish placed his hands behind his back. It was a pose he had taken many times when he was afraid of reprimands. “I was walking ootside of Miss Isobel’s rooms a few days ago,” he began, meeting Alastair’s eyes slowly and holding his gaze. “I overheard a conversation between them about Catriona.”
Alastair let out a slow breath. “I am nae going to punish you for that, Hamish, if what you have to say is worth the listening.”
Hamish seemed to relax a fraction, but he kept his hands behind his back. “Aye sire, it is. There’s something they’re hiding about Catriona, but they didn’t say what. I left before they could discover me.”
John nodded quickly. “We put the word about the servants, found out there’s a daughter in the Sutherland Clan they’re not so keen to talk about.”
Nothing was making sense to Alastair, and he moved over to the chair by his bed, slipping down into it. “What are ye saying?”
“Sutherland haed another daughter,” John continued, leaning against the dresser. “She was older than Isobel. Nobody’s heard from her in a long time.”
Alastair pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. Things were starting to coalesce in his head, and it was dawning on him just what Hamish and John were getting at. When he pulled them away, he gave them both a stern look. “Is there proof?”
“Nae here,” Hamish admitted. “But back at Sutherland Castle? Aye. There was a priest who married Sutherland and this daughter’s mother. He kept records somewhere.”
“I don’t doubt Bryce would have kept them,” John added, almost as an afterthought. “His lady would have searched high and low for them, but there are things about a husband a lady could never ken.”
That last was true, at least. Alastair closed his eyes, giving himself time to think up what he was going to do with this information. He had to find Catriona that much was certain. Knowing what he did and suspecting that she was the daughter Hamish and John spoke of. It would make sense out of Margaret’s rush to have Isobel wed him, and to send Catriona away. She was threatened.
“Hamish,” Alastair said, pushing himself to his feet, “saddle up me horse.”
“Yer leaving, sire?” Hamish asked, though he did not seem particularly upset at the idea.
“Aye,” Alastair said. Hamish waited a beat, as if expecting something else, but when it wasn’t forthcoming, he bowed his head at Alastair, then at John, and left the room. Turning to John, Alastair gave his brother a stern look. “I need ye to do something for me, and I need it done quickly and quietly.”
John stood a little straighter. “Whatever ye need.”
“I need ye to go to Sutherland Castle. I need this document found. It may be the only thing that will reveal what is behind everything that has happened.”
“And what about ye?” John asked, though his expression was knowing.
“I’m going to find Catriona.” Alastair gave his room a cursory glance, but he couldn’t fathom why he would need anything within it. Time was off the essence, and Catriona needed him. “I won’t come back to this castle until ye have the documents. Ye’ll know where to find me.”
There was a place, known only to John and Alastair, found on one of their many explorations, that they had made their own. Alastair would hide there with Catriona, providing he could get her away from the convent, and await John’s reply.
“Ye have me word,” John promised, clapping Alastair on the back. “As soon as we have the document, ye’ll know.”
There was nothing but certainty in John’s words, and though the situation at the moment seemed hopeless, Alastair let himself believe that everything would be alright.
Chapter 17
Conventional Dream
The convent was large, draughty, and so much quieter than Catriona had ever believed a place could be. It was not a bad place, not for somebody who chose to come here willingly, who wanted this life for themselves.
Time was so very careful here, every moment planned down to the second. Waking up in the mor
ning, meal times, prayer times, and working. Everything was scheduled into the day, and there was very little time for nuns and initiates to have time to themselves. Catriona had tried to acclimate, but she was used to a lot of people around her and it was difficult, especially when nobody seemed to want her there.
When they had left her at the door, both guards had assured the Abbess that Catriona would be a great asset to their nunnery. The Abbess had looked down at her nose at them and told them in no uncertain terms that she had already been informed. Catriona could only imagine what Margaret had said to her, or whether it was through her at all.
The Abbess had remained cold in the time Catriona had been at the convent. It felt like months when it could not have been that long. Everything seemed to be rolling along too quickly as if events were conspiring to keep her here indefinitely with no hope of rescue.
Not that Catriona could expect a rescue. There was nobody left besides Alastair that would care, and though she didn’t know exactly when it would happen, he would marry Isobel and forget that she had ever existed. Or if he didn’t forget, tradition would dictate that he could do nothing to help her. Who would want to, in this convent where nobody but Lady Sutherland and the two guards knew she was interred?
Catriona’s room at the convent was small, plain, and cold. She was used to such a room, but this one seemed devoid of personality. Even at Sutherland Castle, her room had small touches that gave it character, that marked it as hers. Things her father had left her, a locket of her mother’s, and trinkets she had found around the Loch as a child. Those things had been the most important finds when her father had been alive. He had made sure to mark every discovery, every achievement.
She missed her father terribly, and could remember the smallest things about him, but she wondered if that had been because she had the castle around her, the Loch to visit each day. Would those memories fade here in the convent, with nothing to remind her of the life she had before?
Those times were tinged with sadness whenever Catriona thought of them, so much that it covered any bitterness she might still feel. Hopeless and alone, Catriona sank to her knees on the bed and pressed her hands to her face, as if to stave off any tears that could escape.
Everything was spiraling out of control, and she no longer had any idea what to do. Tomorrow she was to take her vows, binding her to the nunnery forever. They would cut her hair, take her away from everything she knew, and she would be forced to stay here. Though some other nuns were friendly enough, nobody had tried to get to know her, and Catriona feared the Abbess had something to do with it. She had singled Catriona out, whether to reprimand or to criticize, and no one wanted to draw any more attention to themselves than necessary. Or so one nun had told Catriona quietly during meals when they had a brief reprieve from the quiet.
Everything she knew as it was would end the next day, and she was powerless to stop it.
“Please,” she whispered into the darkness, curling up on her side on the bed, hands splayed in front of her. “Someone help me.”
Chapter 18
On Time
The convent loomed overhead, but Alastair refused to let himself be intimidated. There was no telling what state he would find Catriona in, or if she would even want to leave with him. He had agonized over his choices throughout the journey. Part of him wanted to burst into the convent, whisk Catriona away, and stay away from Grant Castle until John contacted him. He feared, however, that Catriona might be happy at the convent. What kind of life had she had if she was indeed the daughter of a Laird? Alastair could understand her wish to not be a part of that world anymore.
If anything, it just made Alastair more determined to find her. As his horse started up the path, he wondered just how he was going to get into the convent. It wasn’t easy to just walk up and knock on the door. He didn’t particularly want to force his way inside, but he had to do something, had to find some way to get inside the nunnery.
As he approached, he thought of Hamish, and wondered if he could get away with disguising himself. Would they be watching the road? Immediately, he halted his horse alongside a row of trees that seemed to form the basis of some form of garden. His horse whinnied softly as Alastair led him over to one of the trees, looping the reins around the trunk, tight enough that his horse could not get out of them.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said, patting the horse’s rump. Scuffing his shoes in the dirt and rubbing a little up the leg of his trousers, Alastair ruffled up his hair, trying to take on the guise of a man who looked as if he had been through a trial.
Walking up to the convent with such conviction made the building seem less oppressive. Alastair knew that it only appeared that way because of the situation, but he could not understand their need to keep someone here against their will. Though, he had yet to discover whether Catriona was indeed a prisoner.
Alastair dragged his feet the last few steps in case someone was watching. Banging on the door of the building, he leaned against the wall beside the door, making as if he was trying to catch his breath. “A love ye.”
There was a long wait. It gave Alastair the time to consider his next move. Perhaps if he could get inside the convent, he could find Catriona. It took long enough that he wondered if he had miscalculated and would have to find another way inside, but eventually the door pulled open and someone poked their head outside.
“Hello?”
The nun looked young, her face smooth and cheeks pink. She averted her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Alastair said, appearing breathless. “I was travelling in this area, and I lost me horse. This was the closest building I could find. Could I trouble for you a meal and some water before I set off again?”
The nun looked torn, looking back over her shoulder. “We’re nae supposed to invite strangers inside.”
“Please,” Alastair begged, letting all his desperation sound in his voice. “I have an important place to be tomorrow and I haven’t eaten in three days.”
The nun gave him another once over and then turned to her left, muttering something.
Another face appeared, this one older and more weathered, but her smile was kind. “The Abbess is currently indisposed with preparations, I’m sure we can get you something.”
Alastair bowed his head. “Thank ye. I appreciate everything.”
The nuns pulled back, giving him enough room to get in, and he slipped in the doors. That took care of half of his battle; now all he had to do was find Catriona.
“Come this way,” the elder nun said, starting off down the corridor.
Alastair followed, aware of the younger nun to his left. He couldn’t just run. They would find him; they knew the layout of the convent and he didn’t, so he would have to come up with something else. Perhaps while he ate, he could convince someone to show him where she was.
As they walked towards what he assumed were the kitchens, Alastair made sure to keep his eyes low, but darting often so that he could catch sight of Catriona if she should happen by.
“I apologize if I have interrupted anything.”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” the younger nun told him, a little enthusiasm in her voice. He assumed she was freshly initiated from her age, but he could not be sure. She did not often look at him. “This is our downtime before dinner. There will be food in the kitchen. Ye picked the right time.”
Alastair smiled, but he wondered if that were true. When the nuns started dinner, he would have to leave. He had not given himself a long window at all.
Before long, they reached the kitchen, and Alastair waited for the elder nun to disappear into the kitchen. When she came back out, her expression was pleased, which gave Alastair a reprieve.
“Come,” the nun told him pleasantly, holding out her hand. “There is plenty.”
Alastair tried to appear as grateful as he could and followed her into the kitchen. Both nuns in the kitchen had their backs to him, either out of fear, or out of duty, but he sat at the table the nuns g
uided him to.
“It’s simple food,” the younger nun told him.
“Believe me,” Alastair started, resting his hands on the table and giving her a tight smile. “When ye havnae eaten for days, the simplest foods are the best.”
“What a wonderful mindset,” the elder nun told him.
Alastair’s attention was on the two nuns in the kitchen; at the sound of his voice, the smaller had turned, her eyes wide. Though she wore the traditional garb of a pre-initiate, Alastair would recognize her face instantly.
He bit back on the urge to call her name, lest he get her into trouble.
Catriona stared back at him, thought she quickly got herself under control and turned away from him.
Fate, Alastair thought wryly, had a way of helping him out sometimes. Now all he had to do was get them out of here and back home.
Chapter 19
Unrest
“I demand ye tell me where he is, at once!” Lady Sutherland, while formidable when she was charming, was even more so when she was angry. Standing in the middle of Alastair’s sitting room, hands on her hips, face pinched with fury, she was every inch the person who would send her stepdaughter away.
Hamish was standing just behind the door, out of her line of sight but still present. When Margaret had discovered that Alastair was gone, with all the wedding guests in the garden, she had been livid. Hamish did not think it was his place to glean some sort of delight from her fury, but he did. Everything was starting to make sense.
Margaret had immediately turned her wrath on John, who had done the only thing he could; he had sent his son to Sutherland Castle. Though not explicitly what Alastair had asked for, John trusted his son—and so did Hamish—and he was young enough to not be familiar to anyone in Sutherland Castle. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but they didn’t have any other choice. If John abandoned the clan while Margaret was livid, there would be no chance to prevent them finding Alastair before he completed his rescue mission.
The Highlander & the Unlikely Heir_Scottish Highland Romance Page 5
