The Maiden Switch

by Allie Borne

  “Never you mind about that. Rest assured that Bernard and I have plenty to keep us busy.”

  Mary giggled and rolled over in bed. Martha, of course, would be enjoying all of the extra time she had to spend with her husband. Sighing, Mary fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 11-Consensus

  A banging woke Mary from her slumber at six the next morning. “Is it time to go already?” she called out, somehow knowing the insistent tempo of that rapping to belong to Sir Andrew.

  “We must leave soon,” Andrew called through the door. “We will be stopping by the monastery this morn and I wish to be well within the Scotland borders by night fall.”

  “Why?” Mary questioned. “Are we to bring The Impostor to the monks?”

  “Nay, I am to bring ye to confession. Ye have ten minutes to get dressed and packed before I am coming in to fetch ye.

  Mary scooted off the bed and ran to the gown laid out across the chair. Cursing to herself, she slid it on and then sat to tug up her stockings. Pulling on her shoes, Mary began gathering her toiletries and throwing them in the bag. “You will need to send for Martha,” Mary yelled out. “I will need help with my gown.”

  Without responding, Sir Andrew strode through the door. He walked up behind Mary and began fastening her dress.

  “Why do I get the feeling you have done this afore?” Mary grumbled.

  “I have only removed women’s gowns, my dear, never put them on.” Pushing his hands aside, Mary stepped away from Andrew and glowered. Unperturbed, he continued. “I have also never put a woman’s hair up. I suppose ye’ll have to leave it down.”

  “Nonsense,” Martha dismissed Andrew with a wave of her hand. “I am here now and Mary will receive a decent bun. See to her luggage.”

  Sir Andrew did as he was bid, frustrated that his time with Mary had been cut short. He had not been alone with her for the past two days and he was feeling anxious. The lass did not seem to regret her cool rebuff of his marriage proposal.

  Mary's thoughts lay in another direction altogether. She met Arthur in the dining room. Aiden and Sir Andrew had already finished their breakfast and were awaiting them outside. “Arthur, I wanted to speak with you about Sir Andrew’s idea to visit the monastery.”

  Arthur lifted his brow in inquiry. “Would it not be best if we traveled straight towards our destination? Merianne has been locked up in that tiny room for long enough.”

  “Mary, ye should know that Sir Andrew outranks me. If he says we go to the monastery, we go to the monastery. Besides, Sir Daniel has given us a deposit of coin to leave there when we go. We are obligated.”

  “Oh,” Mary, hung her head in defeat. “Well, I suppose that an altercation is unavoidable, then.”

  Arthur patted her shoulder and placed some extra bacon upon her plate. “Eat up, then, ye’ll need yer strength.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The invitation arrived at noon. “So soon?” Merianne asked her husband. She was lying in bed, having just awoken from a nap. “I had hoped that Mary would be back so that she might accompany me.”

  “Mrs. Fraser has asked to go with ye. She has a sister that she wishes to visit. Her sister works for the household ye will be visiting.”

  “Mrs. Fraser? That would be...acceptable. Yet, the morrow? I can barely make it through the day now without napping.”

  “Ye can set out after breakfast and return after lunch. Ye will be fine,” Bryan reassured her.

  “Then why do you look so anxious?”

  Bryan stood, his back stiff and his arms clasped behind him. Immediately, he loosened his arms and came to sit on the bed. “I am anxious because I do no’ fancy allowing my new bride out of my sight. I will trust Mrs. Fraser and Mrs. Cumyn to keep ye well.”

  “Now, how about a walk in the garden? I fancy some honeysuckle.”

  Merianne nodded her head and grinned.

  “Refasten my hair, would you? I want to stop by the vegetable garden and see what they are growing. I am sick of the same foods day in and day out.”

  “Any healthy Scott knows not to muddle up one’s diet.”

  “I want some leeks or tomatoes, Redland, and if they are not being grown, I will grow them myself.”

  “Tomatoes? Those are a night shade. They are poisonous.”

  “Do not be obtuse. Most night shade plants are perfectly harmless. I am craving tomatoes. Perhaps Mrs. Cumyn grows them in her garden.”

  “Ye wouldn’t dare ask her would ye? They would think ye a witch.” Merianne looked up at her husband in astonishment, and seeing that he was in complete earnest, realized it must be so.

  “Very well. I will grow them and feed them to our children and then everyone will realize they are harmless. In Italy, they say, the women put them in their sauces. They make soup taste lovely, you shall see.”

  Redland shook his head, escorting Merianne from the keep and out onto the grounds. Her color had returned and she was acting much more like herself. As much as he disliked the idea of sharing her, he was glad she would have a myriad of responsibilities to occupy her time. Playing the role of laird meant that he would be often engaged with other’s affairs and Merianne would be happiest if she too had obligations to attend to at those times.

  “Oh! Honeysuckle! I love it. I did not ken it grew up here. Tis a killer, you know. It takes over everything in an area. Nothing lives about it or within it.”

  “I did no’ ken, but I suppose it makes sense. As a child I would climb beneath it and enjoy the silence there. I suppose that is why my kin call it fairy trumpets.”

  “I find it interesting that something so lovely can be utterly empty and destructive.”

  “Since I have known ye, I have likened ye to the honeysuckle, for quite the opposite reason,” Bryan hurried to explain.

  “Ye are lovely and sweet. Ye are my sanctuary. Sometimes a quiet, empty space can be a good thing.”

  “And it’s destructive power?”

  “Ye certainly have the power to destroy me. Had ye left me,” Bryan softly patted Merianne’s injured shoulder, “I might have ne'er survived the loss. I love thee, Merianne Warren.”

  “Bryan, you have known me for only a few short weeks.”

  “Meri, I 'ave known ye since time began.”

  Merianne laid her head against her husband's shoulder and sighed. “I love thee, also, Bryan Murray... I will miss thee tomorrow.”

  “Ye will no’ stay the night, even if they request that ye do,” Bryan ordered.

  “I will hurry home,” Merianne reassured.

  “I will tell them that my husband will not allow me to stay overnight unless he is accompanying me.”

  “And ye will be telling the truth,” Bryan nodded, well pleased. Merianne rolled her eyes and continued walking. “I have been meaning to talk with thee about finding a husband for Mary. She is of good family and well educated. Are there any men of your clan that might be a suitable match?”

  Bryan chuckled. “Does thy mind never stop working?”

  “Nay, it does not. Had Sir Robert not been completely mad, I might have considered him a possible match. Who will be taking over his estates?”

  “Ye aim high for your penniless friend, Merianne.”

  “I do. Money is not all that determines a woman’s worth. Mary is beautiful, kind, intelligent, educated, and hard working. She would make any man a wonderful spouse.”

  “Well, then, I am convinced. Let us wed her to my brother.”

  “Sir Andrew? Oh, I don’t know if...Do you think? He is awfully young.”

  “And so is she. Besides, Andrew is dreadfully smitten with the girl.”

  “Mary is stubborn. She will not feel tis a good match. She had planned on marrying an older scholar or minister. Mary is Protestant, Bryan.”

  “So, we will have her convert.”

  “Tis not so easy. Mary’s father was a Protestant minister. She feels loyal to her upbringing.”

  “Sir Andrew will not wed a Protestant.”


  “So, it is hopeless,” Merianne concluded.

  “So, we fool them both into agreeing to wed,” Redland chuckled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we build up their affection, passions, and sympathy fer one another to the point that they each feel they cannot live one, without the other.”

  “That sounds like great fun. I would love for Mary to become part of the family.”

  “Then listen to what I have planned...”

  ~ ~ ~

  The crunch of the horse’s hooves echoed loudly about the foursome as they ambled through the monastery gate. The men had started out chatting animatedly but their joviality had soon dimmed when Mary refused to answer any of their queries. They knew from experience not to rile an already fuming female.

  Two monks met them at the entrance to the building. The eldest, a tall, thin man, lifted his hand and face in kind greeting. “Welcome, friends. What brings thee here this fine spring day?”

  “We have come to make a deposit for Sir Daniel Warren. We had also hoped to make our confessions while we were here,” Sir Andrew explained, swinging from his horses and shaking the monk’s hand amicably.

  “Wonderful!” looking at the female in the group, the monk wavered. “If you will just come this way...I will need to bring you in the side door so that you can access the confessional.”

  “Thank you, Father,” Sir Andrew inclined his head modestly.

  All four trudged up the path. Mary was ashamed to follow docilely but too reserved to make a scene before everyone. Sir Andrew handed over the money and signed an agreement over the amount.

  Arthur preceded them all into the confessional. Several long minutes later, he exited, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow. “It has been two years since my last confession,” Arthur admitted. “I hope I remembered everything.”

  Mary bit her lip to keep from laughing. Aiden entered the small screened space. Soon it was Sir Andrew’s turn. Mary’s face turned crimson at the thought of what he might be telling the monk. Mary’s collar began to feel snug and her underarms began to sweat. The moment Sir Andrew exited the confessional, Mary entered, preferring not to make eye contact with the very person that was inducing such panic.

  Mary sat down and began by saying, “I have never before been to confessional, Father. I am a Protestant. Tis the opinion of my escort that I should confess my sins to thee.”

  “Dost thou wish to confess thy sins, my child?”

  Mary hesitated. “I wish to try to be as free from sin as possible. I believe I have done a fairly good job of it until recently. I am guilty of sin and I pray to God to help me to make better decisions, to have better thoughts, to live better. I feel close enough to God to speak these things. I feel as if I receive guidance.”

  “Dost thou seek guidance from spiritual leaders as well?”

  “My father was a minister. I sought guidance from him until he died.”

  “And where do you turn, now?”

  “To God.”

  “And for earthly guidance?”

  “That is the crux of the problem. I need guidance now. I am in love with a Catholic man. He only wishes to marry me if I choose his faith. I feel as if I should not marry a man who does not love me in spite of our differences.”

  “Beliefs are important, my child. What is it that you believe?”

  “I believe that God loves all of us. I believe that if I have faith and love him, putting him before all others and living my life as the Bible teaches, then I should be able to be accepted by others that feel the same way.”

  “For thee, tis about unconditional acceptance from thy husband. For him, tis about having his wife accepted by his people, having his children raised in the way he feels is right.”

  “Aye, I suppose,” Mary hedged.

  “Canst thou both have what ye desire?” the monk inquired.

  “I do not know,” Mary replied. “I shall have to think upon that. Thank you, Father.”

  “What of thy confession?” the monk prompted.

  “That was my confession,” Mary smiled bitterly, walking from the booth no more light hearted than when she entered.

  They all said their goodbyes and mounted their horses. Arthur set a brutal pace, in hopes of reaching his preferred camp site by night fall. Sir Andrew rode up beside Mary and commented, “Ye did no’ confess, did ye?”

  “Not in the way you might expect, nay.”

  “I can tell by the tension between thy shoulders. Ye still carry the weight there. What if ye were to die right now?”

  “Then I would be released to meet my maker, I suppose.”

  “Ye would die with sin on yer heart. Ye would no’ go to heaven.”

  “I have nay sin on my heart, Andrew, only grief and regret.”

  “Ye and I will never agree,” Andrew responded, tasting the bitterness that had lain on Mary’s tongue all day.

  “I fear thou art correct, Sir Andrew. Now you see what I have been trying to show you all along. We would never suit each other.”

  The words felt like shards of glass, entering Andrew’s heart. He pulled his mount around and galloped past the group. Mary felt miserable. Yet, what more could she do? She would not begin a marriage based upon the wrong foundation.

  ~ ~ ~

  Merianne knew she would have felt much much worse arriving at the Cumyn’s village without the company of Mrs. Fraser. Of course Lord Redland had also sent a young man as escort. As their escort dismounted to knock on the door of the gatekeeper, a frizzy haired, middle-aged woman stepped out. She was of a similar look and build to Mrs. Fraser. Mary knew them right away to be sisters.

  Mrs. Fraser did not wait for introductions. Pushing past the youth, she embraced her sister, the tears running down her face. “It has been so long Ana, how fair ye?”

  Ana returned the embrace, a wide grin upon her face. “Well, I love living in town. I have no’ far to walk to get anywhere,” she explained, patting her ample hip as explanation.

  “And they treat ye well here?” Mrs. Fraser asked, eagerly.

  “Oh, as well as one might expect. Here, let me announce yer mistress and then we can go to the kitchens for a bite to eat.”

  Mrs. Fraser nodded, clutching her bag with barely contained excitement.

  Merianne envied Mrs. Fraser. At this moment, she would give much to be heading to the kitchens to eat amongst friends. Instead, she had a morning of stilted conversation and questionable food ahead. Bryan had instructed her not to eat or drink anything. He told her to claim an upset stomach.

  The precaution, while likely unnecessary, was enough to put Merianne on edge. When Mrs. Rianna Cumyn came down the stairs, her dimples flashing in her sweet cherub’s face, Merianne was charmed.

  “Tis a pleasure to meet thee,” Rianna smiled, clasping Merianne’s hand in hers. My husband has told me all about the meeting and I must confess, I was eager to greet the woman that could control a score of angry Highlanders. Please come into my sitting room and tell me all of thy secrets.”

  Merianne laughed and followed. “Really, I have no secrets. My power of persuasion lies in my sheer stubbornness. I do not give up until I get what I want.”

  Rianna laughed, “I wish I could say the same. I have such a pleasing temperament that my entire family takes advantage.”

  “If by that you mean thou art pleasant, I quite agree. I am certain that thy family realizes how lucky they are to have thee.”

  Rianna’s eyes laughed, “Oh, I believe they do, especially when they need their stockings darned or their scrapes healed.”

  Merianne and Rianna passed the hours chatting amicably, getting to know one another and learning about their respective families. Soon, noon was approaching and Meri would have to be leaving. “I would like to extend an invitation for thee and thy children to visit me, at the Murray keep.”

  Rianna nodded, expecting the offer. Merianne continued, “But I would like to make a rather strange request.”

  Rian
na’s interest was peaked. “I have a companion who is having trouble committing to marriage. Lord Redland and I would like to see her wed to Sir Andrew Murray, my Laird’s brother. We believe the two are fond of one another but too proud to make headway on their own. We had an idea that should work wonderfully if you would....”

  ~ ~ ~

  Mary was cold and tired, hungry and grumpy. It was well after dark but they had all agreed to push on to the keep. Thoughts of a hot bath and a warm meal ahead were all that kept her going. At one point, Mary had dismounted and annoyed the men by insisting on walking. Her bum was sore from all the riding.

  With the keep in sight, she had little need of prodding her horse. Sandy took off in a trot. She also knew that warmth and food waited. The entire clan seemed to be gathered for dinner when they entered the hall. Many heads turned to see who entered. Many more continued talking or listening to the minstrel.

  “Welcome!” Bryan boomed out, beckoning all four to join the head of the table. Room was made and dishes brought. Mary was relieved to be sharing her trencher with Aiden, rather than Sir Andrew.

  “Ye all look weary. I will send for baths to be made. Ye can all go straight away to yer rooms. Mary, this will be the first time that ye will see thy chamber. I hope ye will find it to your liking.” Mary nodded graciously and continued to eat. She was ravenous.

  “Now, tell us all about the journey and its result,” Bryan offered.

  Arthur launched into a grand tale of attempted murder, tracking, and scandal. The entire room grew quiet until the part where Aiden helped Mary wash ‘the witch’s’ hair. Much ribbing and jokes were made at the poor man’s expense.

  Many turned appraising eyes at Mary, in growing respect, she thought. Sir Andrew did not like all the attention that Mary was getting. She sounded brave and bold, just the thing that many a Scotsman admired in their women. She would not make it to bed tonight without being offered other accommodations.

  Sir Andrew’s ire grew. He did not come out the hero in this story. Repeatedly, he failed to protect the sole female of the group. He appeared inept. Even Aiden, not much more than a youth, had foiled the witch on more than one occasion.