“It is our father I worry for,” Catherine said, glancing anxiously out of the window, as though she expected to see the whole host of the Jacobite cause rushing through the courtyard.
“Father is an old man, Catherine, he will not join the fighting. He’ll stay in the rear lines and direct the troops, do not worry,” Amelia said, giving her sister a weak smile.
Feargan could not settle and now he got up from his chair, pacing up and down before the fire.
“My advice is for us all to lay low for a while,” Alexander Galbreth said. “Wait until these events have played themselves out and then decide what ye shall dae, Feargan.”
“Aye, nay more excitement for a while,” Feargan replied, as he strode towards the window.
But as he did so, something caught his eye, on the floor by the door. It was a handkerchief, lying next to a table leg. It must have been dropped from Lord Torbay’s pocket just before and he stooped down to pick it up. He was intrigued, not by the handkerchief itself but by the crest upon it, which was all too familiar.
“What is it, Feargan?” Amelia said, as Feargan stood looking down at the handkerchief in disbelief.
He turned to her, his eyes dazed and handed the square of cloth to her. She looked down in puzzlement, the crest clearly meaning nothing to her.
“I don’t understand, Feargan?” she said, joined now by Catherine, who looked equally as puzzled.
“The… the crest,” Feargan said, and from his pocket he drew out his watch, opening the little case to reveal the intricate mechanism, decorated with his mother’s crest.
There were the two red hands and a dagger upon a white shield, surrounded by gold and red plumage and a helmet, upon which sat a proud stag’s head. It matched that which was displayed upon the handkerchief and Feargan now turned to his uncle in disbelief.
“How very strange, lad, it cannae be, surely?” he said, taking the pocket watch and handkerchief from Feargan and holding them both up to the light of the window.
“They are the same,” Feargan said. “But how… how could Philip come to possess an item with my mother’s crest upon it?”
The watch was one of the few possessions which still provided a tangible link to his dear departed mother. He had been so young when she died, yet he could picture her quite vividly. Her smiling face and bright blue eyes, a picture of beauty, and far different to the woman his father had so rapidly replaced her with.
Alexander Galbreth sighed and shook his head, as though in disbelief of the thoughts now running through his mind.
“Well, what is it, Uncle? Tell me? I want to ken why Philip Yates, Lord Torbay, a man from England with nay connection to me mother, should have in his possession a handkerchief belongin’ to her,” Feargan said, the frustration building inside him.
“We should sit down, lad, though this is perhaps nae for the ears of gentle lasses,” he said, blushing a little with embarrassment.
“I am sure my sister and I have heard enough scandal over the years to not be shocked by what you have to say, Alexander,” Amelia said. “And besides, I have known Lord Torbay these many years past and I, too, would like to know why he should possess an emblem belonging to Feargan. You may proceed.”
Amelia and Catherine now sat opposite Feargan and his uncle, the excitement of the morning now replaced with a sense of all pervading curiosity. Feargan held the pocket watch in one hand and the handkerchief in the other, as though weighing them up one against the other, trying to find some difference between them.
“There is nay easy way to say this, Feargan, but ye perhaps only remember half of the story regardin’ yer dear departed mother. She was a bonnie lass and make nay mistake, and why she ever married yer faither I daenae ken. Me brother could be a hard man and though he never mistreated her he was nae exactly a perfect husband to her, either. He had his share of affairs and there was scandal and rumor all round.”
“Shortly after ye were born, she made a journey south to England and there, as I understand it, she had an affair of her own. I daenae blame her, given the way in which yer faither treated her at times. He flew into such a rage when it was discovered she was with bairn, for they had nae lain together and it was clear that whoever the faither was, he was nae yer faither.”
“Anyway, when the bairn was born yer faither wished nothin’ to dae with it and it was sent away. Back to the faither whose son it was, presumably, though I never ken the name of the man, nor anythin’ about him. But yer mother was broken-hearted, and that was what she died of. A tragedy, dead before her time because yer faither could not forgive her despite the many times she had forgiven him,” Alexander said, pausing to draw breath and gazing into the fire, as though these were memories long forgotten, now resurrected amidst the turmoil of that day.
“But… ye mean?” Feargan said, shaking his head in disbelief, “It cannae be, he cannae be me—”
“Yer brother?” Alexander replied, “Well, why nae? He has yer mother’s looks to him, now that they are more recognizable given this,” and he pointed to the handkerchief, which Feargan once more began studying carefully.
“Well… Philip never knew his mother,” Amelia said. “He was the son of the Marquess of Torbay and had no brothers. His father died some years ago and he inherited. He always spoke of a desire to know his mother, though I believe he thought her to be…” her words trailed off.
“Married to his faither?” Alexander said, smiling.
“Yes,” Amelia replied, curtly.
“I… I cannae believe this,” Feargan said, shaking his head.
“The mystery of who the child was and where he was from was one which yer mother and faither kept to themselves. I ken of the affair, but neither would ever share such an intimacy with me. What I dae ken is that yer mother considered it the cruelest of things when that wee bairn was taken from her. Yer faither had it sent south with a wet nurse and I remember yer poor mother weepin’ on the steps of the castle for it.”
“She was never the same after that, and she never forgave yer faither, either. Ye were her pride and joy, Feargan, and if it weren’t for ye then I think she would have died of a broken heart then and there. She would have sent somethin’ with the bairn to remember her by, though yer faither would never have allowed the bairn to come lookin’ for her,” Alexander said, shaking his head.
Feargan placed the handkerchief on his knee, the crest facing up, his eyes fixed upon his mother’s insignia. The revelation was too astonishing to believe, yet the facts fitted perfectly. His memory of his mother was one of a smiling, happy woman, kind and gentle, yet if this were true then she had carried a dark secret, too.
“And ye think she went to the grave havin’ never seen the child again?” he said, shaking his head.
“Aye, she never left the glen again. Yer faither would nae allow it. I remember one day when I found her down by the loch, sobbin’ uncontrollably. The poor thing had a broken heart, Feargan, but I have always tried to keep yer memories of her as happy ones. I daenae want ye to think badly of her. Until today I had nay sense of where the child was.”
“Look at the evidence, though, the handkerchief with yer mother’s coat of arms, the fact that Lord Torbay is precisely the right age, the knowledge that he daenae ken his own mother and was raised by his faither. Does it nae seem too much like a coincidence to ye? For years I have wondered who the baby was and where it went,” Alexander said, shaking his head.
“Why did ye nae tell me I had a brother, though?” Feargan said, his anger rising towards his uncle. “I had a right to ken, to ken that I was nae alone.”
Alexander shook his head but Amelia now rose from her place and knelt at Feargan’s side. She took hold of his hand and kissed it, smiling reassuringly at him.
“Your uncle didn’t want you to think badly of your dear mother, Feargan. Why did you need to know she had an affair? Nor of the sorrow which she felt at having to give up her child? I could not imagine such a thing, it is too awful to comprehend, th
at poor, dear woman must surely have been broken. If you are angry at anyone then it should be your father, a man who clearly cared more for himself than his own dear wife,” Amelia said, shaking her head and kissing Feargan’s hand once more.
Feargan sighed. He knew she was right, but what did it mean for the future? What now? Would Lord Torbay be persuaded that the man he so despised was in fact his half-brother? And if he was, then what would that mean for the future? Could he be happy for a brother when he had been angered by a perceived enemy?
These, and many more questions, went around in Feargan’s mind that day, as he pondered the future. All seemed quiet outside the castle. There was no sign of any Jacobite soldiers, with the guards reporting that they had soon dispersed once Lord Torbay had returned from his audience with the kidnapper.
Feargan was unsettled by the events of the day and he spent much of the afternoon brooding before the fire. There was little which anyone could do to alleviate his mood and as the evening began to draw in, Amelia tried her best to cheer him.
“Feargan, I know today has been a terrible shock for you, but there is surely hope in this? When Philip discovers the truth he will surely renounce any claim he has upon me. I have made myself very clear on these matters and he must surely respect that,” she said, but Feargan shook his head.
“It will come as a shock to him, too, a greater shock perhaps, though why did his faither nae tell him the truth?” Feargan replied.
“For the same reason your father didn’t tell you the truth, presumably. If I were he and discovered that my wife had had an affair, I would never wish for my children to know. It is a scandal, though it seems that your poor mother had every reason to find herself seduced by Philip’s father,” Amelia replied.
“Then ye believe all this to be the truth?” Feargan replied.
“Well, don’t you?” she said, shaking her head sadly.
“I daenae ken what to believe. I am tired, though, Amelia and I would appreciate it if I could be left alone,” he said, staring past her into the fire.
Amelia nodded and closed the door quietly behind her, leaving Feargan alone with his thoughts. It was all too incredible to believe and he drew out his pocket watch, opening the case and running his finger over the crest.
“Dear Mother,” he said. “How I miss ye.”
26
Neither Amelia nor Feargan slept well that night, with the wind howling around the castle like the thoughts racing through the minds of its occupants.
Amelia rose early, having tossed and turned in her bed for an hour previously. She lit a candle and made her way out to the corridor, the milky dawn light just breaking through on the horizon.
She looked out over the castle walls and towards the loch, just visible over the tree line. A mist was hanging about the mountains and she shivered, drawing her shawl around her and making for her sister’s room.
Amelia knocked gently at the door, lifting the latch and poking her head into her sister’s room. It seemed that Catherine had not slept either and she knelt by the fire, kindling it into life.
“Could you not sleep, sister?” Catherine said, as Amelia came and seated herself opposite.
“No, I gave up in the end. I just can’t stop thinking about yesterday. It is so incredible and yet surely it must be true,” Amelia replied, as the flames burst into a merry blaze and Catherine sat back in her chair, a triumphant expression upon her face.
“Do you think that Philip will believe it?” Catherine said.
“I don’t see how he cannot. Look at the evidence, it’s all there as clear as the day. Last night I looked again at the portraits of Feargan’s mother, and there is a striking resemblance between the two. Once you see it, it leaps out at you as though it is so obvious as to be without doubt,” Amelia replied.
“Philip will not be happy to find himself related to Feargan,” Catherine said, smiling.
“No, but perhaps it will mellow him a little to realize that he comes from the same flesh and blood as a man he swore so virulently against. We must just bide our time, Catherine,” Amelia replied.
Her sister nodded, placing more logs on the fire, so that the room lit up with the dancing flames. They talked a little while longer, as the sun began to rise above the loch and the morning mists burned off, revealing the sweeping mountains and vast forests above.
Amelia left her sister a little later, returning to her chambers to dress and make herself ready. She was surprised to hear a commotion from down below and hurrying downstairs she almost fell into the arms of Feargan, who was rushing to find her.
“Whatever is going on, Feargan?” she cried, a look of worry spread across his face.
“‘Tis Lord Torbay, he has returned, and this time it seems the whole Jacobite army is at his side,” Feargan said. “Where is yer sister? We must keep ye safe.”
“If Feargan thinks he can take me by force then he is sorely mistaken,” Amelia replied defiantly. “I am going nowhere. I would have thought that after his pitiful display yesterday he would have known to have left us well enough alone. Anyway, we have a surprise for him, don’t we?”
“Aye, but he may burn the whole castle down before we can give him it,” Feargan replied, darkly.
The four gathered in the hall, as outside there came the sounds of a gathering army. There was no way that the small garrison of the castle at Loch Beira could hope to defend against such a force and Feargan paced nervously up and down, his mother’s pocket watch in his hand.
“The man is a pathetic fool,” Alexander said. “He couldnae take what he wanted by his own merit and so instead he leads the Jacobite army away from its objectives to settle his own score. We are loyal Jacobites, surely the Bonnie Prince kens that.”
“Lord Torbay has many powerful friends,” Feargan replied, “and nay interest in honor, brother or nay brother.”
“We must talk to him again, make him see reason,” Amelia said, glancing nervously from the window down to the courtyard where Feargan’s soldiers were gathered, furtive looks upon their faces, as they milled about anxiously awaiting whatever fate was to befall them.
At that moment there came a great thud from outside and the sounds of splintering wood.
“They have a ram to the gates,” Feargan cried, rushing from the hall, closely followed by the others.
Out in the courtyard another almighty crash came against the gates and the wood began to splinter. Feargan’s men had rushed to secure them with props, but it was no use and with a shuddering splinter the gates gave way.
Jacobite troops now poured through the gateway, overwhelming Feargan’s men and surrounding the Laird, Amelia, Catherine and Alexander.
Amelia screamed, clutching hold of Feargan, who had drawn his sword but to no avail. Behind the Jacobite men strode Lord Torbay, a triumphant look upon his face, followed by the Earl of Workington, walking awkwardly with a stick.
Catherine rushed over to her father, taking him in her arms and kissing him.
“Oh, Father, we were so worried,” she cried.
“As was I for you, my girl, and for Amelia. When Philip told me what had happened I knew we must come,” the Earl said, casting his eyes across the scene around him.
“But we are not prisoners, Father. Quite the opposite, in fact. Can’t you see that we have come to no harm at all? And yet Philip bursts through the gates, without any heed as to the feelings of Amelia and I,” Catherine said.
But as she spoke Philip strode forward and took Amelia by the arm, causing Feargan to lunge for him, as several of the Jacobite soldiers took him in hand. He struggled, but to no avail and Philip drew Amelia to his side, catching her in an iron grip.
“Let me go, Philip,” she cried.
“No girl, be silent, you hear me. I have had enough of these games, as has your poor father. You and Catherine will come with us now, and we shall deal with your Laird later on. Now stop struggling and do as you are told,” Philip said.
“Philip…” Amelia bega
n, but his grip became all the tighter and she struggled against him, tears welling up in her eyes.
“We cannot go with you, you don’t understand,” Catherine said.
“I understand perfectly. We are here to rescue you and yet you still maintain this man is innocent,” Philip said, turning to Catherine who ran to her sister.
“No, you don’t understand,” Catherine cried, “Feargan is your brother.”
These words so shocked Lord Torbay that he let go of Amelia and stepped back. The courtyard fell silent at the revelation which had just come from Catherine’s lips and all eyes turned to Philip, who stood shaking his head in astonishment at Catherine’s words.
“Brother?” the Earl of Workington said, stepping forward.
Highlander's Hidden Destiny: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 21
