“My grandfather did such terrible things during the Rising.” He abruptly released her hands. “He slaughtered his own people, all in the name of allegiance to some faraway king he never met. He cared naught for the English cause. He merely wanted to preserve his own fortune. His brutality toward the MacDonald family brought this pain to our door.”
“My father evicts people from land on which they have lived for generations,” he continued as he raised his tortured gaze to hers. “He runs rough over anything and anyone that gets in his way, even his own son. He killed that night just as I did.” He swallowed hard. “And, now, look at what I have done. I am continuing the family tradition.”
He paused briefly as memories of the past flooded his mind. “When I entered Cairen MacDonald’s chamber, she was awake. She twirled a finger through her brown hair and batted her eyes at me. She told me I must be a brave man to enter the MacDonald castle.”
“You would not believe the things she said,” he spat. “It occurred to me that she must have said the same sweet words to Allan. I have never felt such rage in all my life, and, pray God, I never feel it again. I slit her throat without the slightest hesitation. In my nightmares, I can still see the way her ivory skin parted when I ran my blade across her throat. I can hear the gurgle of blood spewing from the wound and the thud of her body on the rocks below when I tossed it out the window.”
He rubbed his hands together, trying to remove some unseen stain. “We Campbells have so much blood upon our hands,” he groaned. His voice was filled with pain. “I try so hard to atone for my family’s sins but find myself committing this terrible act. Am I doomed to repeat the evil of those who came before me? Am I a fool for hoping that I can be a better man?”
With the back of his hand, he dashed away the hot tears that fell down his cheeks. “Mary never knew my dark secret,” he said. “People fear you when they know the terrible things you have done. They judge you. I could not bear to have that innocent woman think poorly of me.”
He looked intently into her watery eyes. “You will think differently of me too,” he said. Resignation crept into his voice. “You will see me for the monster I am.”
He rose from the chair and stared down at her. “You know the very worst part of my soul,” he said. “It cannot be undone. I must live with this disgrace for the rest of my life.” Turning, he wordlessly exited the room.
Twenty
Tilly spent the next two days trying to find Benjamin. He did not join her for any of the meals. According to Sarah, he was constantly busy, working in the stables, riding on the estate, and dealing with tenant matters. It seemed as if he purposely avoided being in the castle. Short of barging into his bedchamber in the middle of the night, she did not know how she might have an opportunity to speak with him.
Deciding she needed a moment’s respite, she made her way to the little chapel in the woods. She enjoyed the quiet of the place. It was an understatement to say the last year had brought incredible change in her life. Her family was gone, and she was ripped from her own time. She felt completely adrift. Visiting the chapel always gave her a small measure of peace.
When she pushed open the door, she discovered she was not alone. Benjamin sat on the first pew. He did not turn as she walked toward him. She slid beside him onto the pew. They sat shoulder to shoulder for several moments, not speaking.
Tilly slipped her hand into his. She felt him tense at her touch. She did not move, though, giving him time to relax. When she heard him exhale, she finally spoke. “I have been looking for you,” she said. “Why have you been hiding?”
“I have many matters that require my attention,” he said flatly.
“You are afraid of my reaction to your confession,” she said, shaking her head. “You left before we could talk.”
Benjamin turned to face her. He did not let go of her hand. “Aye. I told you that people treat you differently when they know the terrible things you have done. They fear you,” he said. He looked away. “Mary always regarded me with such love. She always saw the very best in people. A part of me wanted her to see only the good, never the bad, in her husband.”
“It was not difficult for me to discover the story,” Tilly said. “Mary probably knew. She loved you anyway. She saw your true heart. She knew you are not a bad person.” She gently turned his face toward her. When his eyes met hers, she repeated, “You are not a bad person, Benjamin.”
“I cannot pretend that I understand what happened,” she continued. “I come from a time and place where we do not react in such a violent way – well, not normally. You have been raised in a society where violence is a way of life. It might not be as lawless in 1801 as it used to be, but the undercurrent of brutality is still here. You are not a cruel man, though. I see a great determination to be a better person. I simply cannot reconcile the man you describe with the man I know. You are not a monster.”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it fervently. She felt a hot tear splash upon her hand before he released it. He said hoarsely, “Thank you.”
He placed his arm around her shoulder and cleared his throat. “I built this chapel for her, you know,” he said. “She was not fond of the church in the village. She said it was too large, and the sermons were too long.”
He chuckled at the memory. “She preferred to meet one-on-one with God,” he said, gesturing toward the cross that hung in front of them. “I built her this wee chapel so she could have regular conversations with Him without having to trudge down to the village. She would slip away sometimes, whenever the bairns were too much for her. I would find her sitting in a pew, a little smile on her face. She told me this was the only place where she could find a moment’s peace.”
“I have found solace here too,” Tilly said. “You gave her an extraordinary gift.” Sighing, she leaned closer to Benjamin who did not move away. “Will you be my friend, Benjamin? I have no one else here with whom I can talk.”
“Of course. You can confide in me.”
“I know I should want to go home, but I have nothing waiting for me there. My family is gone.” She hesitated. “Still, I do not have anything here. I need to go back to my own time, right? That’s how this works. What if I am trapped here, though? I am scared.”
“You are an intelligent woman. I am sure you will find a way.”
“Thank you for not saying I am foolish to bring up the whole time travel thing again.”
“You cannot tell lies in church, or you will burn in hell,” Benjamin said, winking at her.
She laughed, despite the gravity of the situation. “And thank you for taking care of me,” she added. “I may not know everything that you do, but I can see how hard your life is. I never want to be a burden for you.”
He pulled her close to him and rested his head on top of hers. “How could you ever be a burden, lass?” he asked tenderly.
She closed her eyes and relaxed in his embrace. She forced herself to set aside her memories of the past and worries for the future. For this moment, she wanted to feel peace and serenity and safety. Could this man give her all of that, if she would open her heart? Don’t overthink things, Tilly, she thought. Just breathe.
∞
Mr. Murphy sat at the desk in his office and reread the letter he had just composed. He was uncertain if it was premature to alert His Grace. However, the man had been most explicit with his instructions. If anything out of the ordinary occurred at the castle, he was to send word at once.
Sighing heavily, he folded the parchment and carefully placed a blob of black wax to join the pages. Pressing a metal seal in the warm wax, he smiled with satisfaction at the impression of the Campbell crest. His Grace gave him the signet as recognition of the service he rendered to the family. He used it only when addressing matters of concern to their wellbeing.
He added the letter to a pile of other missives for the post. With luck, the strange woman would be gone before the letter reached His Grace’s hands. He grabbed a candlestick fr
om his desk and made his way to the door. It was time to prepare for the evening meal. He must not shirk his other duties as butler for Castle Fion.
Twenty One
Sarah was excited when she came to Tilly’s room very late in the evening. Fortunately, the maid just missed Benjamin’s nightly visit. Tilly was glad she did not have to explain that to Sarah. It would no doubt be considered very scandalous.
She repeatedly asked what had happened, but Sarah refused to share the reason as she led Tilly downstairs. Checking first for any lingering servants, Sarah ushered her into the family library and firmly closed the door behind them.
Tilly was shocked to see Allan standing beside the fireplace. He cleared his throat and held a tattered book in front of him. “Miss Sarah says you are teaching her to read,” he said. “I thought you might like to use one of my books.”
“That is very generous of you,” she said. She crossed the room and took the book from the boy. “Are you sure you do not need it?”
“No. It is a book I used long ago,” Allan said. “I have moved to more advanced material now.”
She cleared her throat to conceal a giggle at his boast. Flipping through the pages, she was relieved to see the text was much easier for her task.
He strode toward a doorway on the opposite side of the fireplace. “Our classroom is in here,” he said, opening the door. “I have prepared a fire for you. Would you like to use the room for the lessons?”
Tilly followed him into the classroom. She saw tables and chairs as well as rows of books and maps tacked onto the walls. A gleaming slate blackboard hung on one wall. She wanted to hug him but thought better of it. “This is perfect!” she exclaimed. “Would you like to stay for the lesson?”
“I would be happy to listen, if you do not mind,” he said, grinning shyly.
“Not at all! Please, take a seat,” she said. She motioned for Sarah to do the same.
Spreading the book upon the table, they began the lesson. Tilly’s heart lifted when Sarah read the text with ease. She felt they finally turned a corner, thanks to the providence of a ten-year old boy.
∞
It was several evenings later, and Benjamin could not sleep. He flung aside the covers and rose from the bed. It had been three weeks since he brought Tilly to his home. He was no closer to learning her true identity than when she arrived. Despite all his queries and cross questions, she never wavered from her story. She emphatically stated she was from the future. He began to think she might be telling the truth, as improbable as that seemed.
In the same time, he had confessed his darkest secret to her. He poured out his heart and revealed the depth of the pain he felt. He told her things he never shared with anyone else, not even his late wife. Tilly knew so much about him. What did he know about her?
Grinning devilishly, he recalled the things he knew well – the curves of her supple breasts, the silky smoothness of her skin. He could not erase their passionate first meeting from his memory. If he concentrated, he could feel the heat of her body and taste the sweetness of her mouth. Frustrated, he decided sleep would elude him yet again. He pulled on his clothes and boots. Maybe he could find a book in the library that would distract his frenzied brain just long enough to get some much-needed rest. As he quietly slipped from his room, he shook his head. That woman was driving him mad.
Once inside the library, he retrieved a book he left on a table beside a window. He was about to return to his bedchamber when he noticed the faint glow of light coming from the room next door. It was the children’s classroom. Considering their distaste for learning, he seriously doubted they were up late, studying.
He carefully nudged the cracked door, not wanting to be detected. He saw two women huddled over a table they had moved in front of the lit fireplace. He noticed they placed several candles around the room to provide maximum light for their task.
“Try again, dear,” he heard Tilly murmur encouragingly. Looking closer, he recognized the maid Sarah by her side. As he listened, he recognized the text was from one of his eldest son Allan’s books. What the devil? he wondered.
He sensed rather than heard someone standing behind him. He turned and found Allan hiding in the shadows. He touched his finger to his lips. He motioned for the boy to follow him.
Once they were behind the closed door of his study, he rounded on his son. “Why were you out of bed at this hour?” he asked, his voice firm.
The boy stared at the floor, a guilty look upon his face. When he failed to answer, Benjamin lifted his chin with one finger. “Did I not tell you boys to stay away from Mrs. Munro?” he asked.
Benjamin noticed Allan was shaking slightly. He decided intimidation was not a successful tactic. Sighing, he led his son to the chairs by the darkened fireplace and deposited him into one of them. With deliberate slowness, he lit several candles around the room. He wanted to give his son time to collect himself before he continued the interrogation.
He crouched beside the chair, lightly placing his hands on Allan’s knees. “I will always worry about your safety,” he said. “It is my duty as your father. I love you, son.”
The declaration seemed to soften Allan’s reserve. “I slipped away to the privy for a moment and returned to listen to the lesson,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “Miss Sarah is learning how to read.”
“Yes, from one of your books,” Benjamin observed. “How did she get it?”
“A few days ago, I heard that Mrs. Munro was teaching her maid to read,” the boy said. “I knew my books could help so I gave her one and told them both they could use our classroom.”
“It is a secret,” he added, glancing anxiously at his father. “I do not want Miss Sarah to get into trouble. She always completes her chores for the day so the lessons do not interfere with her work.”
Benjamin’s knees were aching so he took a chair opposite his son. “Do any of the other boys join you?” he asked casually.
Allan clamped his mouth shut.
“Tell me the truth,” Benjamin said, giving his son a stern look. “You know I will find out eventually.”
Seeing the look upon his father’s face, Allan confessed, “No, not for the lessons. One day, I saw her walking to the chapel so I decided to follow her. It is not safe for a woman to be alone in the woods. Well, Angus saw me, the little spy. He decided to join me.”
Leaning forward, he blurted, “He told Michael, not me. I told them both not to come, but they joined me every time I followed her.” He hastily added, “It was Stephen who saw her first. He met her in the library and said she was a nice lady.”
“Da, do you think she is a nice person?” he asked innocently. “She is very kind and likes going to the chapel, just like Ma.”
Benjamin eyed his son. “Have you ever spoken with her in the chapel?” he asked. He wondered if Allan was there the day Tilly and he were together but decided not to ask.
The boy shrugged. “Aye, once. We talked for a bit about her poor family,” he said. He looked at his father. “Ma always said it was a good place for quiet reflection so I usually leave Mrs. Munro to it.” He tilted his head to the side and repeated his earlier question, “Do you think she is a nice person?”
“Yes, I believe she is.”
“Then, are you angry that I have been spending time with her, even though you told us we should not?”
“I am not happy that you disobeyed me,” Benjamin replied. He swept a hand over his face. “The hour is late. Let us discuss this further in the morning. For now, I want you to go to bed. Go straight to your room. Do not stop in the classroom. Do you understand me?”
Allan nodded. He raced from the room before his father could change his mind about punishing him.
∞
Tilly blew out the last of the candles and massaged her tired neck. The new text was a blessing. It was as if she could see knowledge blossom like a flower in Sarah’s brain. It was a silly analogy, but it seemed to apply.
She was just abou
t to bank the fire when she heard a man cough behind her. She spun around and found Benjamin standing in the doorway. “Oh, you startled me!” she exclaimed, her hand to her chest. “Have trouble sleeping?”
“Yes, I came to the library about an hour ago for a book,” he said, slowly walking into the room. “I was surprised to see someone in the classroom.”
She swallowed hard. Busted, she thought. Well, was there a law against teaching a servant? Gloomily, she realized, in this age, there might be.
She lifted her head and moved toward the door. Feigning a yawn, she said, “It is late. I believe I shall go to bed. Good night.”
Benjamin grabbed her arm when she tried to pass him. “Might I have a moment of your time, Mrs. Munro?” he asked.
He bade her to follow him to the table and chairs in front of the fireplace. “I understand that you have been giving reading lessons to your maid, Sarah,” he said, taking a seat and placing his arms on the table. “Knowledge is a wonderful thing, do you not agree?”
She sat stiffly in the chair. “Yes. Knowing how to read will open many doors for her,” she said. She raised her chin defiantly. “I will teach her how to write too, as soon as I can figure out how to use those damn quills.”
“I would appreciate it if you would avoid teaching her your unladylike vocabulary,” he said, a bemused smile on his lips.
Tilly laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation. “I assure you that our lessons are wholesome,” she said.
“For your sake, I hope they are,” he said. He eased forward in his chair and asked, “What lesson did you teach my son?”
Tilly gasped. Oh, double damn, she moaned inwardly. She pretended to be deeply intrigued with a knot in the wood of the table. Peeking at Benjamin, she saw the dark look on his face and knew that he expected an answer. With as much feigned innocence as she could muster, she asked, “What do you mean, sir?”
Through the Mist: Restoration Page 15
