I dragged Rory to the edge of the moor. There was such chaos all around us that nay one paid any attention, so I was able to carry him off into the scrim of trees on the far side of the moor. I kept looking back to make sure nay one was following, but the smoke covered our escape. There was a ditch with a fallen log right over it, and I pushed Rory underneath, then lay down myself and covered us with fallen branches. We lay there in that freezing, wet ditch, for two days waiting for the British to leave.
They were in no hurry. They killed all the seriously wounded men, and took the rest prisoner. There were thousands of corpses on the moor, and some people had come to try and claim their dead. It was impossible to tell who was who with all the blood and mud covering their faces, so they began separating the corpses by clan. I saw some farmer with a wagon, so I gave him my father’s ring in exchange for the wagon and his coat and hat. I thought the only way to get Rory out of there alive was to pretend I was taking kin for burial, so I put him at the bottom of the wagon and stacked some dead men on top. I took the ones who were mutilated by the cannon, hoping the British wouldna want to touch them.
I drove the wagon through the most crowded area hoping I wouldna be noticed among the confusion. A young soldier hailed me, but let me go once he took down the names of the dead to give to his superior. I just made up the names since I dinna ken those men, and asked their forgiveness in denying them their proper identity in death.
It took me several days to get here. There were patrols on all the big roads, and I stopped every few hours to make sure Rory was still alive. I begged some milk and bread from a farm trying to feed him. My only goal was to keep him alive till we got home.” Dougal looked devastated as he told his story, leaving Isobel and Anna speechless with horror.
“What about the rest of the McBrides?” Isobel finally asked.
“I cannae rightly say. I saw many of them fall during the first few minutes of battle, but then everything became so confused I was concentrating on staying alive. By the time I crawled out of our hiding spot, most prisoners had been taken away, so I only saw the dead. I dinna see anyone I kent and I was eager to get away.”
“Ye did right, Dougal,” Anna said. She looked at him with such pride.
“What will we do? Dougal, ye said there is a price on Rory’s head. We canna hide him forever.”
Dougal shook his head. “The longer he stays here, the sooner someone will find out. Most people are loyal, but times are hard and a reward won’t come amiss to most folk. He needs to leave, disappear, and soon.”
Isobel walked Anna and Dougal to the door, then changed out of her gown and crept downstairs. Rory was awake and happy to see her.
“Dougal told us what happened,” Isobel wasn’t sure it was a good idea to remind him.
“I dinna remember much. I remember leading the charge, and then I was fighting several Redcoats. We were severely outnumbered. One of them hit my left arm with the butt of his gun, forcing me to lower my tarche long enough for the other one to drive his bayonet into my shoulder. I must have passed out after that because when I woke up, I was in a ditch with Dougal, and I was so fevered I could nay longer tell what was real and what was a nightmare. Dougal saved my life.” Rory took her hand in his. “I thought I’d never see ye again. ‘Twas the only thing I minded about dying.”
Isobel took his hand and put it on her rounded belly. She could see the surprise and the joy in his eyes, and got in next to him wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. They would be all right. She would see to that.
Chapter 56
Over the next few weeks a couple of men staggered back to the castle. They’d managed to escape the slaughter, and had been hiding in the woods. More devastating details emerged. Out of the one hundred and eighty men who left with John, only about forty returned. Many of them had suffered terrible wounds from both cannon and sword, and not all of them would survive.
His Majesty had gotten away and sailed back to France, leaving the decimated clans to deal with the consequences of their defeat. His cause was lost forever; the casualties so severe that any hope of another uprising was futile.
Many clansmen had been killed on the moor, many more taken prisoner, including John. He was known to the British and there was a price on his head for being a traitor and a loyal follower of Prince Charles. He had been sent to London to await trial. The rest of the men were sent to various prisons where they would rot until the British Crown decided what to do with them. Every family in the clan had suffered casualties, some losing all their men in one blow. The castle seemed like a ghost town, and people went about their business silently and with grim determination.
**
British patrols were roaming the countryside looking for survivors of Culloden and harassing the people. Isobel was coming out of the dairy shed with a pitcher of milk when she saw young Robbie running through the gates as if the devil himself were after him.
“The British are coming,” he yelled as he made his way to the forge. He was out of breath, and it took him a moment to recount how he was setting traps in the woods when he saw the patrol heading toward the castle. Dougal was already running toward the tower, and Isobel put down her pitcher and locked the gate. She would need to stall them for as long as possible to give Dougal time to get Rory and hide.
The patrol appeared on the horizon a few minutes later. There were four soldiers and their captain, and they demanded that she open the gates and let them in. Captain Watkins was a florid-faced man with receding blond hair and beady eyes, who seemed to really love his job. The pale sunshine reflected off his gorget, illuminating his sweating face. The rest of the soldiers were young and eager, their eyes following their captain as he strolled around the courtyard brimming with self-importance. He ordered them to search the premises, leaving Isobel no choice but to stand aside and let them through. She offered to escort the patrol, leading the soldiers to the opposite side of the castle.
The soldiers were making rude comments about her red hair, saying it was a sign of degeneracy, and took great pleasure in shoving aside anyone they met on the stairs. They stabbed their bayonets into mattresses and behind curtains to make sure no one was hiding there, and left jagged gashes in the fabric. Isobel’s heart was hammering in her chest, and she was praying that the Redcoats couldn’t see her nervousness.
Joan was coming out of the sewing room and Isobel willed her to stay silent. She didn’t know about Rory, but she knew Dougal was back. Joan walked past the soldiers with her head held high, and headed outside. Isobel took them to the west tower last. She had given Dougal as much time as she could; she couldn’t keep them away any longer.
Captain Watkins searched John’s room with particular care. He opened the trunk and the wardrobe, and stabbed his bayonet into the mattress several times. Isobel was relieved to see that the bed had been made, and there was no sign of immediate habitation. The Redcoats made their way upstairs to her chamber and stabbed at the silk drapes and the embroidered coverlet, ruining it beyond repair. Isobel was relieved that her beloved tapestry was left intact. She held her temper in check, hoping they would just leave. The patrol remained for another hour searching all of the outbuildings, and taking pleasure in doing maximum damage to whatever they could.
They finally turned to leave, but warned her they would be back to conduct further random searches. Isobel breathed a sigh of relief and locked the gates after them, blessing young Robbie for his quick thinking. She stood by the gates until the British soldiers disappeared from view, then went in search of Dougal and Rory. She had no idea where they were, and was glad to see Anna walking toward her. Her face was pale and strained, and she took Isobel by the arm and led her inside.
“Where are they, Anna? The soldiers searched everywhere.”
“They’re in the priest hole; it’s in the library.” Anna’s color was coming back, and she was beginning to look pleased. “Those whoresons would never find them.”
The girls walked into the
library and closed the door behind them. Isobel watched as Anna walked around the room until she reached the right shelf, and knocked on the wood five times. She heard rustling noises behind the books as a section of the shelf swung out, revealing a small tunnel behind it. The tunnel had two doors. One led to the priest hole, which was a tiny room with a bench and a chamber pot, the other door led into the salon which adjoined the library on the other side.
Dougal looked out of the room to make sure it was safe, then helped Rory rise from the bench. He was still very weak and needed help walking. Anna went out first to make sure the hallway was empty before they made their way to the tower and up to John’s room.
Isobel locked the door behind them with shaking hands. That had been a close call, and she knew the soldiers would be back again. They’d gotten lucky this time because they had warning and the soldiers found nothing, but next time might not be as easy. They would need to come up with a plan. As soon as Rory was back on his feet, they would have to leave. There were too many people moving around the castle, and sooner or later someone would see him. A person like Joan, who lusted after position and money, wouldn’t think twice about betraying Rory and Dougal to the British and collecting the reward. Time was running out.
Rory was healing well, and took walks around the room every day trying to regain his strength. He lost some of his gauntness and was eating solid foods once again. With his hair cut short he looked boyish, so he grew out a goatee to compensate. They spent hours debating what to do, and eventually a plan was hatched. Anna’s granddad was a fisherman and had fished in the North Sea most of his life. He had a small boat, and was familiar with the shipping lanes and the boats passing the coast. He would help them.
August 2010
Chapter 57
I sat in Danny’s office looking at the papers in front of me. I’d made my decision regarding the estate, now all I had to do was sign. I would keep the distillery and leave it under the current management, and donate Kilmaron Castle to the Scottish Historical Fund. I would include the blueprint of the castle, and maybe the old passages would be restored and shown to the public, should the castle become a museum. The representative from the Fund promised that it would be declared a historic landmark and preserved. That made me happy. It belonged to the people of Scotland, not to me.
My business was completed, and I would be making plans to go home within a few days. The fall term would be starting soon and truthfully, there was no longer a reason to linger.
I’d spoken to Sophia the night before. She’d finally broken the news of her engagement to her parents. Surprisingly, the fallout wasn’t as bad as she expected. Her mother cried, her father threatened, her grandmother clutched her chest and crossed herself repeatedly, but when they saw that she wouldn’t be swayed, they gave up. The thought of losing her was too much for them to bear and a compromise was reached.
Sophia and Jesse would have a nondenominational wedding ceremony, which only her family would attend. Her parents wouldn’t welcome Jesse with open arms, but they promised to be civil to him and his family, and there was always hope that things would improve in the future. The happy couple set the wedding date for March, the anniversary of their meeting. I was thrilled for Sophia, but a little sad for myself. I had other friends that I could spend time with, but Sophia had always been my closest friend, and we did things together. I knew that she would make an effort to still spend time with me, but things would change. How could they not? After the wedding, she would move to Jesse’s apartment until they saved enough money to buy a house on Long Island. I would be left alone.
“Can we go to the castle one more time before I hand over the keys?” I asked Danny. He nodded and picked up his car keys off the desk. He seemed pensive and distracted, and I felt a wave of melancholy sweep over me. He knew our time together was coming to an end, and was hoping to avoid awkwardness, I thought. We drove to the castle, talking of trivial matters, my heart sinking even lower.
I saw the granite walls of the castle rising above the trees as we drove up the hill. It looked proud and undefeated, and I wished I could have seen it the way it had been when it was populated with people and full of life. Danny unlocked the gate, and we walked toward its silent façade. We went up the sunlit steps, and I opened the door to Isobel’s room for the last time. Nothing had changed since the last time we were here, but everything was different. I now knew who my real grandfather had been, and I’d learned of the romance between Isobel and her Rory. I was bitterly disappointed that I never found out what happened to them, and wished it was like a book where you know that everything will be resolved in the last chapter.
I walked to the window and looked down at the sea. I saw distant sails on the horizon, and wondered where the ships were going. Danny came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling my ear. I leaned against him, letting him kiss my neck as he pulled me toward the bed.
This time our lovemaking was tender, filled with longing and sorrow at our imminent parting. A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away before Danny could see it. He held me close afterward, and I dozed off feeling exhausted by my emotions.
Chapter 58
I was dreaming again. Rory and I were following Anna down a long passage. The tunnel was dark except for the torch that Rory held as we moved into the shadows, rats scurrying at our feet. The tunnel smelled musty and I kept touching my face, brushing cobwebs from my skin.
I stopped suddenly, realizing that I forgot to take the letters from their secret hiding place. I wanted to turn back, but Rory told me to leave them. It didn’t matter anymore if someone found them. The passage behind us had been reclaimed by the darkness, and I felt as if I were suffocating in that silent place. Rory felt my distress, and took my hand, pulling me along.
At last we emerged onto the beach. The opening of the passage was in the mouth of a cave and I breathed in the salty air, grateful for its freshness after the fetid smell of the tunnel. Everything around us was silent and dark.
Anna’s granddad melted out of the shadows, and silently led us to his boat moored around the bend of the cliff. I hugged Anna, and kissed her goodbye, thanking her for everything she’d done for us. She and Dougal had chosen to stay and make their life in Scotland. I had left her a letter for my mother saying goodbye. I felt terrible to desert her after the death of my father, and imprisonment of my brother, but there was nothing I could do. I had to save Rory and ensure the future of our child.
Rory helped me into the boat, tossed in our meager possessions, and jumped in as we started to row away from the shore. The moon was out, but there were thick clouds floating across the sky giving us enough darkness to slip away unseen. We’d taken very little with us since the boat was just a dinghy, and I held on to my bundle for dear life, knowing these were the only things I had in the world.
Rory was no longer wearing his kilt. It identified him as a Scot and a member of a particular clan, and we needed to preserve our anonymity. Our accents would give us away, but we could pretend to be from the Lowlands if it came to that.
We rowed out into the open sea for what felt like hours, then stopped. Now we had to wait. Eventually the sky began to lighten, and pink streaks of sunrise began to appear on the horizon. The sun would be up soon, and we would be in full view of whoever happened to pass by. We were just praying it wasn’t a British man-of-war. We silently shared a piece of bread and some cider, and continued our vigil.
A ship eventually sailed into view, and we waited patiently for it to get closer so we could see its colors. It was French, so Alastair hailed it. We were spotted by the sailors, and we saw them running on the deck, presumably to inform the captain. The ship came alongside the little boat and a rope ladder was lowered to help us aboard. We said goodbye to the old man, and Rory helped me up the ladder, climbing behind me in case I fell. Alastair would wait for a little while to make sure all was well, and then report back to Anna.
The sailors helped us aboard, and gave
us curious glances as Rory asked to speak to the captain. I waited on deck while they conducted their business, relieved when I finally saw Rory emerge from down below. He had bartered his mother’s ruby brooch for our passage, and I ran my fingers over the smooth pearls in the pocket of my dress. I had taken some money out of a little pewter chest that John kept in the bedroom, but not enough for him to notice should he come back. It would help us get settled wherever we were going. The rest was up to us.
Rory came up behind me, and wrapped his arms around my bulging belly. The baby was kicking against his hands, and he kissed the top of my head. I leaned against him, feeling scared but excited.
“Where are we sailing to?”
“We are off to the American Colonies. The captain said there’s a big Scottish community in South Carolina. It will be a new world, a new life.” He held me tightly as we watched the shore of Scotland recede from sight. We could still see the towers of Kilmaron against the morning sky and I could almost see Anna standing on the battlements looking out across the sea for the sails of the ship that was taking us away forever.
“We won’t have much,” I said, not really caring.
“We have everything we need right here,” and I knew he was right.
Chapter 59
I woke up feeling strangely peaceful. Danny was watching me.
“You saw something again, didn’t you?”
He was smiling at me, waiting to hear the story. I felt a sudden urge to step outside. We got dressed and walked out onto the battlements. The sun was shining, and the breeze from the sea was blowing my hair away from my face. I turned my face up to the sun feeling suddenly happy. Life had its own plan, and everything would fall into place.
The Inheritance Page 17
