Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  “Ye’d best no’ be poppin’ just yet,” said Alice. “’Tis perfectly normal, my dear.” Alice winked at Abigale.

  Abigale Bruce, wife of Laird Douglas and daughter of Robert the Bruce, was with child and looked every bit pregnant. Her stomach was perfectly round and plump, her face beamed beautifully with joy and health, and she had the cutest waddle for a petite frame.

  Every time Effie saw Abigale, she would be rubbing her belly as if she was rubbing it for good luck. She was happy for her best friend, truly. Yet in a way Effie had been envious. She too wanted a husband to love her as much as the laird loved his wife and to be able to tell the world about it.

  Effie peered over at Abigale’s enlarged bump as Alice took a step back to view her creation. A wee babe, aye. Bearing children with the man she loved would be the greatest gift of all. Soon, she thought, verra soon.

  A loud knock on Abigale’s bedchamber door brought Effie’s attention back from the clouds. As she opened the door in rushed two blonde beautiful wee girls. The girls had been abandoned and living in unsavory conditions when Abigale had rescued them from the village months ago. Still no one had claimed them and now the sisters called Black Stone on the Hill their home. The girls had grown quite fond of Abigale and James, treating them as though they were their ma and da.

  Little if any information had been known about the girls. At first the eldest girl did not trust easily, but when she came around, Abigale was able to learn their names. Flora was the eldest and Annis was the youngest, though wee one fit Annis perfectly for a nickname. No more a babe, yet not a lass. A little person with her own ideas and strong personality. Aye, Annis was quite a handful. Though she had yet to speak, she communicated quite well. And her sister of course, her protector, had grown into a fine young lass. Abigale had guessed her to be ten at the time of the rescue, but was later informed that she was ten-and-three and her sister was six.

  Effie was about to close the door when she nearly shut it on Laird Douglas. “My laird, please forgive me. I did no’ see ye there.” Standing over six feet tall, James walked in the room, filling it with his size and presence. Holding a piece of rolled parchment in his hands he said, “Good day, Effie. This came for ye this morn.” He handed the missive to her and walked in towards Abigale.

  Effie closed the door and fumbled with the seal. Who could possibly send word to her? Unless, oh dear God, nay. As she opened the scroll, thoughts of Conall rushed into her mind. What if Conall was in some kind of trouble? He had to be safe and alive, he just had to be. Sending a prayer to God, she quickly flattened the paper and began to read the message.

  Flora sat down on Abigale’s bed wearing a long face while wee one grabbed the extra fabric that was lying on the ground. Wrapping herself up, Annis danced around the chamber to a tune in her head. Alice finished with her measurements and began to clean up, when both she and Abigale noticed Flora’s frown. The ladies looked at one another and Alice nodded toward the girl, motioning for Abigale to go talk to her.

  “James, love?” Abigale called out to her husband.

  “Aye.”

  “Would ye mind going to the kitchen and fetch me one of Alice’s oatcakes?” Abigale flashed that irresistible innocent smile of hers that always made James’s heart flip in his stomach.

  “Didnae ye just eat breakfast?” James teased.

  Abigale sternly raised a brow and put her hands on her hips. “I’m hungry.”

  James huffed, “Aye.” He bent down and tickled wee one before he picked her up and placed her on his broad shoulders. “Ye’re lucky I love ye.” He kissed Abigale’s cheek and smacked her lightly on her bottom before he made his way to the kitchen.

  Shaking her head at her husband’s way of showing affection, she waddled over to her bed and sat down by Flora. “What be on yer mind?”

  Flora lay on her stomach, picking at her nails. “I dinnae understand boys. Why must they be so mean?”

  Abigale smiled as if remembering a time when she thought the same about a certain stubborn Highlander. “Is there a particular laddie that be cruel to ye?”

  “Aye, Niven.”

  “Niven?”

  “He’s always chasing me, pulling me hair.” She looked up at Abigale with tears in her blue eyes. “He even calls me names. Lanky legs Flora,” she mocked in Niven’s teasing tone. The girl sobbed into Abigale’s lap.

  “Oh Flora, dear, do no’ cry. There’s something ye should know aboot the lads.” Abigale brushed her fingers through Flora’s blonde curls, trying to console the young lass. It broke her heart to hear the girl crying. “What ye’re experiencing is being teased.”

  The weeping girl picked her head up, sniffling through her tears. “I dinnae understand.”

  “When a lad likes a lass, sometimes they have a strange way of showing it. They tease to get yer attention.”

  “Niven pulls me hair because he likes me? That be the silliest thing I’ve ever heard of, hurting someone because they like ye.”

  Wiping a tear from Flora’s face, Abigale smiled. “Aye. There was a time when the laird teased me.”

  “Laird Douglas? But he’s kind to ye.”

  “Aye. He is now.” Abigale laughed. “Ye know what I did?” The girl shook her head no. “I stood up to the laird and told him I didnae like to be teased and if he wanted to be me friend then he needed to be kind.”

  “Did he stop?”

  “Aye.”

  “I should tell Niven to stop hurting me—”

  “Or else ye won’t be his friend,” Abigale added.

  Flora knelt on the bed and wrapped her arms around Abigale’s neck and said, “I’m glad I have ye to talk to.”

  Abigale squeezed the girl tight. “Oh sweet lass, I love ye.”

  Alice called out to Abigale, breaking their tender moment. “My lady!” Alice ran to Effie and caught her before she fainted and fell to the ground.

  “Effie!” As quickly as she could, Abigale ran over to her. “Alice, sit her down in that chair over there by the hearth.”

  Alice walked Effie to the chair and sat her down. “Are ye alright?”

  “I’m fine.” Effie sat down with the parchment in her hands. The last thing she remembered was reading the missive, and then the room began to spin and her stomach flopped.

  Her reaction to the message didn’t make much sense to her. There was no news about Conall, so he had to be safe. In bold black letters the scroll stated that she was needed back home and a man would be waiting downstairs to escort her to Caerlaverock Castle. Signed by her father Sir Herbert Maxwell. Home.

  Shocked, Effie leaned back into the chair. She hadn’t been back home in over five years and she had hoped to never have to return.

  “Here drink this.” Abigale handed her a glass of wine. “Are ye alright?” She felt Effie’s head for fever. “No fever.”

  The women’s voices began to muffle as Effie dug down deeper into her inner musings.

  Why did her father want her home? Was he ill? Perhaps something had happened to Tavish. Surely her father would have mentioned that type of information in the note?

  Mayhap Conall wasn’t on business after all. That’s it, Effie thought. Could Conall have found out who her father was and gone to him to ask for her hand in marriage, to bless the marriage? He would be there waiting for her and making arrangements to marry her at the castle in front of her family. For the love of saints, she hoped not. If Tavish was there he would make damn sure to tell Conall all about her past and ruin everything she’d kept a secret all these years.

  Effie’s heart raced and she began to panic. Taking in a deep breath she tried to calm her rattled nerves. Breathe Effie, breathe. There’s no way he could find out unless... Alice. Alice was the only one who knew her true last name. Surely Conall did not know she was a Maxwell? It was really quite silly for her to even think that he was at Caerlaverock. Alice had promised to never tell her secret and she knew Alice would hold true to her word.

  Besides, the warrio
r had told her he had business to take care of. Something along the lines of cattle raiding. It was hard to pay attention when an incredibly sexy Highlander had his hands all over her. There was no way he would be at Caerlaverock waiting for her.

  Her vision began to blur back to auld memories. When she had arrived at Black Stone she’d been bruised and battered, having been severely beaten.

  She had been back at Caerlaverock, waking from a fog. Her head pounded, her body ached, and her face was numb. Sitting up slowly through the shooting pain, Effie opened one eye, for the other one was swollen shut. As her surroundings began to become visible, she noticed she was lying in hay with the smell of horse manure and soiled straw lingering in the air. She must be in the stables but how she got here she couldn’t quite remember.

  Aye, she recalled the recent beating her brother had doled out to her, but as for how she made it to the stables, that was a mystery. All she knew was enough was enough. She refused to allow her body to be used again by some drunken lout Tavish had promised her to. There was no desire in bedding a man whose breath reeked of ale and who only wanted to pleasure himself and cared naught about her. No longer could she stand the smell of ale; it turned her gut.

  Furthermore, the shame. The shame was eating her alive. A tear rolled off her cheek as she sat weakly observing the stables, regaining her strength. She had become numb and felt nothing. Going through each day cold as ice was the only way she knew how to deal with life. On the other hand it was how she protected herself. She had concealed her true self behind a façade for so long, she no longer recognized the woman she had become.

  When she had refused a man who was heavy in the pockets and belly, Tavish was beyond irate with her and he made sure she knew it as well.

  His rage came down upon her fist by fist and blow by blow until she must have blacked out from the pain. His shouting and screaming rang through her head.

  “Ye be my whore!” Tavish shouted and pushed her into her bedchamber. “When I say ye’ll bed a man, ye’ll do as I say!” He slapped her across the face, splitting her lip.

  “Nay, Tavish! I can no’ do it anymore!” Effie fought back but it was no use. The fire in her brother’s eyes was lit. She was going to pay dearly for her disobedience.

  “Whore! Do ye want me to tell father aboot yer lover?” He cocked his fist back and with powerful force it connected with her face, sending her staggering backwards until she fell to the ground.

  Now she was here, in the stables, rocking back and forth trying to stop the memories of his shouting from ringing in her ears. Closing her eyes tightly, she erased the visions floating around in her head. Aye, she’d had enough.

  She didn’t know how she got here, nor why she wasn’t dead. Surely she must have had a guardian angel looking down on her, for she couldn’t have made it here alone by her own strength.

  The sound of a horse munching on hay brought her attention back to the fact that she needed to escape this hell. Aye, she would miss her da, but if she stayed she was as good as dead and she wasn’t ready to die just now. Leaving would set her free. As close as she was to her da, he would forgive her in time for parting ways from him without a goodbye, but bedding a man before marriage, her father would not easily overlook.

  It was risky to leave; however it was a risk she was willing to take. Tavish could still blackmail her if he found her, or worse yet, find her and make her pay. She didn’t want to think about the consequences. All she wanted was freedom. With that in mind, Effie eyed a chestnut mare. The mare with big, dark, kind eyes glanced back at her as if reassuring her to move forward with her plan. The question was, would she be able to leave Dumfries alive?

  On shaking legs, the redhead moved toward the mare, barely making it before her legs buckled underneath her. In order to stand, for her strength was weakening, Effie had to grab the chestnut around her neck for support. A cold wet nose nudged Effie, encouraging her to keep moving. Taking in a deep breath from the cold night air, with all her might she flung her leg over the mare’s back and settled herself. She kicked the horse into motion and hung on for dear life, praying that they would make it out of Dumfries alive.

  With only the clothes on her back and a fatigued mare, Effie, by the grace of God, found herself on Douglas land. As she reached Black Stone, she could no longer hang onto her horse and she fell from its back onto the cold hard ground, unconscious from the pain and cold.

  When she awoke, it was to an older gray-haired woman tending to her wounds.

  “Where am I?” Effie asked.

  “Black Stone on the Hill, lass. And ye be safe here,” the woman answered.

  “Who are ye?”

  “Me name is Alice. I’m laird Douglas’s eyes and ears around here.” She paused as she wiped the blood from the corner of Effie’s mouth. “Now it be me turn to ask the questions. Who are ye and who did this to ye, lass?”

  Effie hesitated, wondering if she should tell her the truth. Douglas land was safe, that she knew by the way her father talked about Clan Douglas. They were allies.

  “Look, lass, I know ye’ve run into some kind of trouble. These kind of wounds tell a tale.” Alice studied Effie intently as she waited for an answer.

  Desperate to stay, Effie had to tell Alice everything, well almost everything. No one needed to know the extent of her past. Plus Alice looked like she always got her way, a no nonsense kind of woman.

  “If I tell ye who I am, can ye promise me that I can stay here, at Black Stone?”

  “Aye.”

  “Me name is Effie Maxwell and I seek protection.”

  “Lass, yer secret is safe with me as long as there be no trouble. We are in need of another hand around here, especially in the kitchens. Are ye able to work the kitchen?”

  “Aye. I’ll do whatever ye wish as long as ye dinnae send me back home.”

  “Well then, Effie Douglas, consider Black Stone yer home.”

  Relief like she had never felt before washed over her broken and beaten body. She had a home. As tears streamed down her face, the realization that she had a new home and life was too much for Effie to comprehend at the moment, but as she lay there she knew the road ahead was going to be hard. She had a lot of healing to do. Making a promise to herself, she vowed to never look back, for tonight she became Effie Douglas.

  “Effie. Please say something.” Abigale’s voice weaved into her blurred memory and brought her back to the here and now.

  “I’m fine,” Effie said.

  “Oh thank God!” Abigale blew out a breath in relief. “I thought ye had gone into some kind of shock.”

  Perhaps she had. The note brought back some memories she’d thought she had erased. Unfortunately, it seemed her past was catching up with her.

  “I did no’ mean to worry ye. I skipped breakfast this morn and I feel a wee bit ill. ’Tis all. I’ll be fine,” reassured Effie.

  Excited about planning a wedding, Effie had missed breakfast. Conall had left a day ago, which left her with two days to plan. She had been so busy she’d forgotten to tell Alice and Abigale about her betrothal. Her stomach flopped again. Aye, missing breakfast wasn’t a good idea.

  Effie looked from Alice to Abigale, they were hovering over her like nervous nellies. “I’m getting married.”

  Silence filled the room. Alice and Abigale stood dumbfounded with their mouths wide open.

  “Married?” Alice asked.

  “Conall asked me to be his wife.” Effie beamed as her smile spread across her face.

  Abigale squealed and clapped her hands. “When’s the wedding?”

  “In two days but I just got a message from me da, he wants me to come home.”

  “Did he say why?” Alice asked with a concerned look upon her face.

  “Nay, but I must leave now.”

  “Are ye sure? Do ye want someone to go with ye? I can ask Rory since Conall isnae here,” Alice asked.

  Effie saw how nervous Alice became when she mentioned returning home. She had seen
her that horrible night and by the look on Alice’s face, she did not want Effie to go back to Dumfries.

  “I’ll be fine, Alice. No need to involve Rory. As much as I love his company,” Effie said sarcastically, “I’ll pass.”

  Abigale looked down at her belly and rubbed it.

  “Oh Abigale, I’ll be back before the babe is born,” Effie promised.

  “Good, I can no’ go through the birth withoot ye.” Abigale smiled.

  Two Days? Could she actually make it home and back before Conall returned? If she was gone when he arrived back at Black Stone, he would come looking for her. Most definitely, she did not want that to happen. Effie had to leave at once and prayed she would be back here in time. Without knowing what she was up against this could be a daunting task. Time was not on her side.

  ~~~~~

  The earthy smell of marshland mixed with the salty sea breezes brought Effie home as she sat on her chestnut mare, the same one she had left with not so long ago, overlooking Caerlaverock Castle. A flock of sea larks hovered over the castle riding the gusting wind, spiraling towards the heavens. Graying clouds billowed above indicating a storm was on its way. Her escort was stoic, not providing much if any company.

  The day’s journey had started out before sunrise and now was ending just as the evening approached. The rain had held off most of the day and now a light drizzle fell, leaving Effie cold and damp.

  The closer she came to Dumfries, the more her stomach soured. Overcome with dread, she knew that Tavish would be there waiting. Effie shivered as she thought back to an unforgettable time.

  The nameless men her brother had promised her to were just that; nameless and faceless, yet unforgettable. She’d joined with countless men just to keep her secret safe and hidden from her da. The beatings her brother punished her with when she didn’t oblige his demands, kept her obedient. Tavish kept his mouth shut and fists under control as long as Effie obeyed. Her father could never know that his only daughter, his pride and joy, had been a whore.

  When her ma died of fever, Effie had been ten-and-eight. The emptiness she felt at losing her ma was unbearable, so much that she clung to her da as if he was her life-support. They had become extremely close. Being overly protective of his daughter, Sir Herbert never pushed the idea of marriage; he was perfectly content to have Effie home and by his side. Looking back she could see why. He had mourned his wife terribly; they both had. Effie was all that he had left to remind him of his late wife. Life had been comfortable then, until the day she’d met the lad she was going to marry, William.