Struan agreed and, with that, her entire life had changed. Gone was the future she'd only recently allowed herself to plan. One filled with happiness and a husband she loved and the children she gave him.
She finally noticed her mother tapping her on the shoulder. Turning to look at her, she realized they were done here. Rising on shaky legs, she began to walk from the room. As she walked past him, she did not meet his gaze. Passing through the doorway into the great hall, she thought she heard him whisper her name.
* ~ * ~ *
The next days were all a blur of black and white, night and day, to her. Her father had planned a quick leaving, but she was so overwrought she could do nothing but sob. Moira was called and came as soon as she could; the only thing she could offer was a sleeping concoction that Anice took willingly. When she was asleep, she could dream wonderful dreams where everything was not black. Robert was in them and she could ignore the reality of their situation in favor of the temporary happiness she found there. Her milk dried up, probably from the shock, her mother said, and Craig was turned over to Emma to nurse.
If it rained outside or was fair, if meals were served or not, she did not know. She only knew the misery of Robert's betrayal and the loss of all she once held dear. Her mother brought Craig to her in her room, but Anice could not gather the strength to play with her son. She was never left alone— either her mother or Firtha or one of the other women was always in the room with her. She did not know if they'd found out what she had tried to do before or not. However, she could not be bothered worrying about their presence.
The one person who she missed the most and at the same time dreaded seeing again was Robert. Part of her simply wanted to ride away without ever seeing his face again and yet another part of her wanted to throw herself in his arms and beg him to find a way that they could be together. Of course, that was impossible since he was truly Struan's son and she'd already married his other son. Even the fact that he was a bastard son did not negate the church's objection to their marriage.
How had she missed the resemblance between father and son? Now that she looked back in her memories, she could see it clearly. They shared many of the same expressions and body movements. And they were both as stubborn as sin. And what was the truth of his birth? She tamped down her curiosity. Although Robert had encouraged it, she was certain that whomever her father chose for her would not have such a liberal view of a woman's role within marriage.
Anice decided to visit with Moira and see her new babe before she left Dunnedin. She had really not had the opportunity to speak with Moira while the healer tended her and there were many things left to be said between them. Three day after her father's arrival, Anice felt up to a walk and left her room with her mother in tow, unwilling but accompanying her still. They would be leaving in two days' time, she was told by her mother. Anything that needed to be done should be.
Anice walked through the village without raising her eye from the ground. She did not know what the clan knew of her and Robert's situation, but she could not face the piteous looks that she knew were sent in her direction. Soon, Moira and Pol's cottage came into view and she hurried her steps seeking the shelter it offered. Knocking on the door, she entered when Moira called out to her. If she was surprised to see her, Moira did not show it. But then too, not many things surprised the seer of the clan.
"Anice, 'tis good to see ye. Come in and sit."
"Moira, may I make you known to my mother?"
"We have already met. Three nights ago."
Her cheeks burned in embarrassment—they'd met when Moira was summoned to care for her. Of course they'd met.
"Will ye have some tea?" Moira wrapped her skirt around a large kettle on the hearth and lifted it to the table.
"Should you be doing that, Moira? You have just given birth."
"I feel well, lass. I can do as I must, in spite of Pol's thinking that I should be abed for days." They chuckled and she seemed to remember something else. "I must send a message over to Pol." Anice watched as she left the cottage and, through the open door, she heard her call one of the village boys over and send him off to Pol. "Now then, let's take our ease for a few minutes. What brings ye here, Anice?"
"I wanted to talk to you before I left. I have many things to thank you for."
"Ah, lass, no thanks are necessary. I did what I could with the gifts I am given. To do less would be to dishonor them."
"Still," Anice said, "I wanted you to know how much I have appreciated your help and the counsel you've given me these many years. I will miss you most of all, Moira." Her eyes and throat burned with tears she did not want to shed. Of their own accord, they spilled out and ran down her cheeks.
"Here now, Anice, dinna greet. Life haes too much to offer to ye that ye should spend yer time crying." Moira reached into a pocket and brought out a linen for her to use. "Mop yer tears and come to see my daughter." Moira took her by the hand and tugged her to one of the alcoves, where a cradle lay.
"What have you named her?" Anice asked, looking at the sleeping babe.
"Jean, after Pol's own maither. With all of Ramsey's boys, she is the first girl born to him or his brothers."
"She is lovely, Moira. Does she fare well?"
"Oh, aye. A bit of a rough start, but ye ken about those, dinna ye, Anice?"
She was about to ask another question when the door opened. Expecting to see Pol answering his wife's call, she turned to greet him. In the doorway, Robert stood, just watching her as she watched him.
He looked horrible. His hair was pulled back away from his face and his arms and hands were nicked by many cuts and burns. A rough beard grew on his face, where none had been before, and he looked as though he had not slept since she last saw him that day in the solar. And, in spite of his betrayal, she drank in the sight of him.
"Come, Suisan, let me show ye where I just planted some new herbs." Moira took her mother by the arm and steered her out the back door towards the gardens. If her mother wanted to object, she never had the chance.
She waited for him to speak, since he had so obviously arranged this with Moira. In truth, she could not think of one thing to say to him. And she could think of hundreds of questions she wanted to ask him at the same time. He cleared his throat and finally spoke.
"I wanted to talk with ye before ye left Dunnedin. I hope ye will forgive Moira for her part in this?"
She nodded, knowing words would never escape from her mouth.
"Yer faither had many things to say that day—"
"And you did not deny any of them, Robert. Is that what this is for now?"
"Nay, I canna deny the truth he spoke, Anice. But I wanted ye to ken some of my side of things. Will ye listen?"
She stood on the opposite side of Moira's high worktable from him. Keeping it between them made her feel safer. Nodding her head, she waited on his words.
"When I came here at Struan's summons, I thought he might finally be ready to acknowledge me as his son. As ye ken, he did no' and that refusal ate at me. Then watching ye and seeing how yer husband, my own brother, ignored and mistreated ye, I began to want ye for myself. Aye, at first, I admit to ye freely that ye were simply part of what he had that I wanted. I coveted my brother's home, his place, and, aye, even his wife, But as I came to ken ye, I wanted ye because of the woman ye are, Anice."
She thought she could control herself, but when faced with his words, she could not hold back the tears. They rolled down her cheeks and neck. "And the marriage? Ye did that for the position it offered ye?"
"I told Struan that I would no' seek recognition from him because it would mean losing ye and I wanted ye more than anything. I wanted to make things right for ye. I wanted to undo the damage Sandy wrought on yer body and soul. Now 'twould seem that I only caused ye more pain and suffering."
"What will you do now, Rob?" Her words came out on a sob.
"I have sent word to Duncan that I return to serve him if he will have me."
&nb
sp; "Of course he will. Lady Margaret will welcome you with open arms "
"Robena haes agreed to come with me to Dunbarton."
"Truly? That might be good for her." She had to ask the question that this news raised. "Will ye marry her, Robert?"
He took a step closer and she looked away. She did not want to hear the answer now that she had asked.
"She will no' because she canna bear children, and I canna marry her, Anice, for I am already married. And annulment or no', disavowing of the handfasting or no', I took vows with ye and they will always bind my heart to yours."
"It cannot be, Robert. You are my husband's brother. It is all wrong."
"I may have wanted ye for all the wrong reasons, but I loved ye for all the right ones, Anice. And I married ye for love. Not position or power. For love."
She shook her head. She could not listen to this. Regardless of whether she believed him or not, their marriage was wrong. This could not be made right in the eyes of God and church. They could not be together.
"I needed ye to ken. If the only way for ye to find some measure of happiness is to agree to yer faither's plans, then do it, lass. Ye deserve it after what ye've suffered at the hands of the MacKendimens."
She could only move her head, for the tears completely blinded her to everything in the room. Happiness? There was no such thing in life. She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear some of the tears, when she heard him open the door.
"Anice? I have made certain that the bairn will stay with ye until he is old enough to be here wi’out ye."
"How, Robert?"
"I told ye I would handle Struan. I just did no' plan on yer faither's anger."
"Thank you for that."
He turned back towards the door, then stopped and faced her again.
"Did ye ever think about... harming yerself again?" he asked quietly.
Startled by his question, Anice realized that she had not even contemplated ending her life to avoid what she would face now—possibly losing her son, definitely losing Robert, losing the clan she'd grown up with, and facing the uncertainty of another attempt at married life with some as yet unknown man. Her sense of confidence in herself was one thing that Robert had given back to her during their time together. She smiled through her tears and shook her head.
"Nay, Robert, not even for a moment. Besides, if you are not here to save me, I cannot risk trying it again."
He grunted and then left without another word and she sank onto the bench next to the table. Laying her head on her arms, she let out the sorrow that overwhelmed her once again.
* ~ * ~ *
The sound of the babe stirring roused her from her stupor. Anice looked around to find herself still alone in Moira's cottage. Turning the bairn over, Anice laughed as Jean's little rosebud mouth pursed and sucked on nothing but the air around her.
"Come, little lass. Let us find your mam."
Carrying the babe outside, she saw Moira and her own mother talking in the far plot of the garden. Walking over to them, she handed the babe over.
"Suisan, can ye take the babe inside for me? I will take my leave of Anice and be there directly."
If her mother thought it was a strange request, she never showed it. Without a moment's hesitation, she put the babe on her shoulder and walked back to the house.
"Did ye speak to him?"
"Aye, Moira, I did." She could not look her friend in the face.
"Did it help?"
"Aye and nay. It does not change anything."
"Ah, so it does no'. Well, he asked for my help in arranging this meeting and I hope ye are no' angry at me for it?"
"Nay, Moira. How did you know where to find him?"
"He haes been working with Pol and Ramsey at the smithy these last few days and staying with Robena." She turned to go and was stopped by Moira once again. "Can I ask ye a question before ye go?" She nodded. "Did it bother ye to marry a man when ye thought he was the son of a steward? Did ye think about being the daughter of an earl when he brought his proposal to ye?"
Anice thought of what her reaction had been and remembered thinking about that exact thing. "Aye, it did at first. Then I realized it was not as important to me as feeling protected."
"I just wondered, lass. Well, now, yer maither is probably tired of being entertained here and I am sure ye have many things to do before ye leave."
Moira approached her and opened her arms. Anice hugged the woman and then stepped back.
"No more tears, lass. The time for greeting is done."
"Thank you, Moira, for everything."
Anice turned and walked around the cottage and met her mother on the other side. They walked back through the village and into the castle without sharing a word of conversation.
Chapter 33
She pulled a chair into the far corner and sat down on it. All alone, she watched the comings and goings of the great hall of Struan MacKendimen. It had been her home for nearly half her lifetime and she wanted a few quiet moments here before finishing packing for the morrow's journey. She had accomplished much here, first under Edana's guidance and then on her own. The keep was well-tended and well-run and the MacKendimens had all been taken care of while she was in charge here.
Anice watched as several of the clan's elders made their way into the solar. A short while later, more joined them there. Struan was probably sharing the whole sad story with them, for there were decisions of inheritance and decisions of guardianship to be made this day. She was surprised when she saw Father MacIntyre come out following Struan. The elders must have been asking for the good father's guidance.
She enjoyed the quiet for a bit more before returning to her chambers. Most of her clothes and belongings had been packed on the wagon that would carry her back to her father's keep. The bairn was down for his afternoon nap in Emma's room. A knock at her door drew her attention. After a moment's pause, her mother entered.
"I thought we could talk, Anice, if ye are no' too busy?" Her mother crossed the room and sat down before she could answer. "I have no' seen ye since yer marriage to Sandy last year. And yer letters have been few and far between."
"We were never especially close, Mother. I know Moira better than I do you."
"Ye left to live here when ye were so young, Anice. Mayhap I did no' ever tell ye of yer faither's courtship of me?"
The whole visit was strange and now this topic of conversation made her turn and stare at her mother.
"Nay? 'Tis quite a different tale than most ken. Most have heard that he kidnapped me and held me against my will, ravaging me until I was pregnant. That's no' the truth of it. We planned it together, for my faither threatened to disown me if I did no' marry his choice for me."
"What? I have never heard this."
"Well, 'tis no' a surprise that no one shared this kind of story with ye. Aye, we were madly in love, but yer faither was the son of a soldier and certainly no' high enough in standing to marry the daughter of a duke. My faither had arranged a more suitable marriage for me to the heir of one of the lowland clans and he was about to announce my betrothal. We decided to run away and let out word that he had kidnapped me. We hid away for months, until I became pregnant and there was no way for my faither to refuse his suit."
"Months?" she asked, horrified and fascinated at this story of her parents.
"Well, it took him most of that time to build up the courage to touch me. Finally, I had to do the deed, so to speak, or ye never would have been conceived."
The image of her brusque, hearty father unable to "do the deed" made her laugh. She had never doubted her parents' love, though she had just not heard this tale of it before.
"What if your father had disowned you?"
"His only daughter? Bah, 'twould never have happened. Nay, he knew I was as stubborn as he and that I was willing to live in a cave to be with yer faither. He relented—and no' just because I carried ye."
"Well then, why?" She had to know.
"Because, under all
the bluster, he loved me. And he kenned that yer faither did, too."
She thought on her mother's words as she moved from trunk to trunk, organizing her clothes and Craig's. Her mother stood and left as quickly as she had arrived and then the day dragged on relentlessly. Finally night came and she lay in her bed for the last time. The night was no kinder, for she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The sun's rays poured through her window and she gave up the fight to rest. Every time she closed her eyes, Moira's or her mother's words echoed in her thoughts until she wanted to scream.
She dressed and saw to Craig and then broke her fast with a quick meal of porridge. The sounds from the courtyard entered her window and she looked out to see the final preparations for the journey home being made there. Her father's loud rough voice rose above it all, the frustration in the slowness of the process evident even to her listening above.
She left the room and walked down the stairs to the main floor, then out into the yard and into all the commotion. Observing her father from her place near the keep, she realized that no matter how angry or how busy he was, his gaze softened whenever it lit on her mother. Their story had made her laugh. He caught sight of her and directed her to one of the smaller carts. Emma, who had agreed to accompany her home and care for the babe, stood there already with Craig, waiting to climb in for the trip. She was about to climb in and get settled when it struck her.
Her stupidity made her laugh out loud. She dropped the bag she held and lifted Craig from Emma's arms, directing the girl not to get into the wagon. Then she went to her father.
"I cannot leave him, Father."
"Yer marriage is no' valid, lass. I will make arrangements for a better one for ye." Her mother joined them.
"Then I will ask him to live with me without the bonds of marriage."
Her father inhaled so quickly that he choked. Sputtering and coughing, he yelled at her, "No daughter of mine will live in sin with a man."
Once Forbidden Page 30
