“Why?” Mackenzie interrupted.
“Sir?”
“Why have ye tried to keep yer relationship a platonic one?” he demanded.
Vin shook his head, uncertain where this was going. Surely, the two men should be angrier than they were. Vin ruined Moira in the eyes of Society, refused to marry her and yet they appeared more…curious than mad. “I think Jason would have been most put out if I pursued his sister. If he knew I had desirous designs on her person. He would have beaten me senseless if he were here.”
“He might have,” Mercea allowed with a nod.
“Simply on principle,” MacKenzie added with a grunt and a reluctant smile. “If we were no’ so old, we might do the same. But when it was over, Jason would have done the same thing we would do.”
“And that is?”
“Welcome ye tae the family wi’ open arms as a true brother and son.” Moira’s father said with a smile.
“I think you underestimate Jason’s temper,” Vin argued. “He would have killed anyone who laid a finger on Moira. He might have allowed me to live just for our years of friendship. Looking back, I know that’s why I always looked at Moira only as a friend.”
“But ye needn’t do that any longer,” MacKenzie retorted. “We’ve always been very fond of ye, Vin. Ye’ve been another son in our fold and we would be verra happy tae embrace that connection fully.”
“Plus, Moira has been in love with ye since she was a wee lass,” Mercea continued. “I should very much like her tae finally have what she wants, considering she has waited so long for ye.”
Vin’s heart seemed to pause painfully for a moment before it raced at those words. “Moira told me even years ago that there was but one man she had ever loved. He was the reason she never wed. She tried to convince me last night that she meant me, but surely it wasn’t the truth.”
“Aye, it was, ye thick-skulled dolt,” Mercea blustered in a brogue so thick that Vin could barely make out the words. “Of course, she was talking about ye. Good god, son, did ye never wonder? Did ye never guess it? She followed ye around like a puppy her whole life. She never accepted a proposal. Wouldnae even dance a waltz wi’ another ‘cause she wanted ye tae be the first one. She ne’er wed for love of ye, lad!”
“Nay! I could never be so blind!” Vin denied. “She loved me like a brother. She always told me that she loved another.” His mind raced through his memories replaying those conversations. Then the lecture Moira had given him the previous night. Sung Li had been right. Vin lived his life always looking beyond the moment he was in. Looking back. Looking forward. He’d never seen what was right in front of him. “Bugger me!” he swore under his breath. “But even if I had known, I wouldn’t have done anything. I couldn’t. Despite what you think, Jason would never have forgiven me.”
“Aye, he was a rash lad,’ MacKenzie nodded. “I hate tae admit it, but he was. He would have been all spit and fire if he’d been the one tae catch ye kissing his sister. Probably would have challenged ye tae a good old-fashioned dual and actually tried tae kill ye. But he’d have come around, I think.”
“If he knew ye loved her,” Mercea added before eying Vin slyly. “Do ye, son? Do ye love our Moira?”
Vin’s heart pounded so loudly it was all he could hear. Moira loved him. Had loved him for years and he had never known, never saw it because he had placed her in his mind as sister and been determined to keep her there. Even when he’d noticed her blossoming into womanhood, he had crushed those flares of desire because of Jason. But he’d always been drawn to her. He always wanted to touch her so he would hold her hand or hold her in his arms. Brotherly embraces but contact, nonetheless. Because, he loved to be near her. Loved to touch her, talk to her, laugh with her.
Years of correspondence had brought them even closer and when he finally returned, he was no longer able to deny the physical attraction she held for him. She was lovely and desirable. Funny, intelligent, caring and compassionate. She mattered to Vin more than anyone did, because, aye, he did love her.
What a fool he had been to live in denial all this time. Determined to keep his feelings as they ought to be, even when it was love of her that made him want to spare her.
The truth of it released a flood of feeling in him and he reeled from the admission. He had always loved her. Now he was in love with her. It was true. Everyone had been right. Why had he not been able to see it before? Why had he centered on the lust and refused to go beyond that?
Because he did not deserve her.
Despite the attraction and desire, the love, he had still failed her. She loved him and he loved her but the truth of the past hadn’t changed.
“It’s true, I love her,” he admitted in low tones to his waiting audience.
“Good then, that’s settled,” MacKenzie slapped his knee.
“But I cannot marry her,” Vin added. Pain pierced his heart but he knew he could not do it.
“Why th’ fook not?” Mercea bellowed pounding his cane on the floor.
He shook his head and dropped it into his hands. “Jace.”
Mercea’s face became mottled with growing frustration. “We already told ye Jason wouldnae care!”
MacKenzie raised a hand to halt his father-in-law. “I think I ken what the problem is here, Neill. Let me ask ye, son,” he directed this at Vin. “Did ye wonder how two old men got here so quickly when the scandal just broke yesterday?”
Vin raised his head.
“Do ye really think news travels that fast tae Old Klebreck tower?” the man chuckled. “The reason we’re here is because Moira wrote me over a week ago. She said she needed us here because ye needed us here.”
“Me?” Vin asked puzzled. “Why would she think I needed you?”
“She said ye needed someone who could understand ye. What ye had been through,” he clarified.
“Moira asked you to come here and talk to me?” Vin couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. He recalled that conversation the morning after his family had first come to dinner. Moira had kept insisting that he needed someone to talk to about his experience. Someone who could understand when he’d insisted that no one might because they hadn’t been through what he had. He glanced at the two old men sitting across from him and shook his head ruefully. So caring was his lovey that she just had to find someone for him to confide him.
But why these two?
MacKenzie must have been able to read the question on his face because he began, “Did ye ne’er wonder how two old men such as us ended up sharing a worn-down castle in the farthest reaches of the Highlands?”
Vin admitted that the question had occurred to him before but he always assumed it was because of Moira’s mother.
Mercea, however, shook his head. “We met years before then. I was a second son. MacKenzie was as rebellious as his own son turned out tae be. We joined the cavalry. That’s where we met. I’d been in for a bit by the time Jamie joined. I was a major. He,” Mercea chuckled jerking his thumb at his son-in-law, “was just a lieutenant.”
“Dinnae take me too long to make captain,” MacKenzie grumbled. “We were sent tae Crimea. That’s where we met.”
“Aye, Crimea,” Mercea echoed and they both fell silent for a moment in remembrance sharing a look that Vin had seen on Jason’s face for several years and suddenly wondered if it was a look that Jason had seen on his. He could feel the pain in that look, it speared him through the chest, and the sting of tears sprang to his eyes before he blinked them back.
No one spoke for a long while as the two men sat thoughtfully reliving those moments. Then clearing his throat, MacKenzie continued. “It was an ugly power struggle. Everyone was fighting for a piece of the Ottoman Empire as it was falling apart. There were years of fighting. Sevastopol, Tchernaya, Balaklava. The whole thing was a muddle. Made a mockery of England’s armies and commanders. In Balaklava, we were under the Scots Grays under that sop Scarlett.”
“‘Course, he reported to Lucan,” Mercea in
terrupted.
“Aye,” MacKenzie spat into the fire. “’Twas a calamity tae say the least. We saw good men dying all around us lost tae the abominable planning of the commanders. Hundreds of men killed or injured. Men still living but trapped under the bodies of the dead. We were among those taken prisoner.”
MacKenzie fell silent again staring into the fire before he shook his head and continued. “There were just three officers taken. Ye might have thought they’d treat us pretty well, but they dinnae. The Russians wanted that territory. They were determined tae have it even if that meant…Well, tae hear the Russians tell of it, they treated us all like kings, but that wisnae the way of it at all. Reporters who were no’ even there had a more accurate description of it. When they couldnae get what they wanted from the officers by ordinary methods—and I think ye’re well aware of what I mean by that, son—they picked off the rank and file one by one to get us tae talk. Finally, we were traded back, forced tae leave our comrades behind. Some of them never returned at all.”
The trio fell silent again as they mulled over his words.
“We came back home after that. I rambled about for a while at loose ends,” MacKenzie went on. “I couldnae get comfortable in my own skin. Couldnae care about anything. Finally, I heard Neill had been made marquis of Landsdowne after his brother died and I went tae visit him.”
“I’d been having the same troubles. Nightmares, embarrassing reactions tae loud noises—reminded me of the cannon fire, ye ken? No one liked me much at that point, I think,” Mercea told him. “Then Jamie shows up and we got tae talking about it all somehow. He ended up marrying my wee Gwynne. He was more than a score of years her senior, did ye know that?”
Vin remembered Jason and Moira’s mother only vaguely. She had died when they were both still young, but he did remember that she seemed young herself. She had probably never reached thirty. Jamie MacKenzie had been devastated by her death as had Mercea. Vin had always assumed that’s why they knocked around that old castle together, because of her. Now he knew that they were trying to tell him that it was for a different reason entirely. That having been through the same tragic experience together had given them a bond of friendship that went beyond the decade of disparity in their ages, beyond their love of Gwynne Mercea. Together they had mourned Jason and most likely remained in that pattern because of Moira, their common bond.
Mercea addressed that idea without prompting. “Dinnae really need tae stay there anymore. Past is the past and we’ve set it aside.”
MacKenzie nodded with a chuckle. “Just a bad habit these days. Of course, we’re so old now we stick together so that somebody will be around when we die.”
Mercea cleared his throat, “The point is, Moira thinks ye might be able to speak of yer troubles tae us knowing that we’ve seen what ye have. Experienced some of the same.”
“It helps, son,” MacKenzie said gently. “Let it go. Voicing it will make the worst of it disappear.”
“Aye, lad,” Mercea urged gruffly. “Tell us what is keeping ye from wedding our Moira.”
Chapter 38
Repentant tears wash out the stain of guilt.
~ Saint Aurelius Augustine
Vin fought back a feeling of panic at being put on the spot. They had left men behind. Perhaps even sealed the fate of some when they refused to break under interrogation. The pair probably could understand better than any other. Despite what they had told him, he just wasn’t certain he could talk about it, even if he wanted to.
How could he possibly explain it? Especially to them?
They sat in silence for a long while with him staring into the dancing flames, his mind a thousand miles away. There were no other sounds except the crackling of the fire before his voice broke softly. “I don’t know why they never just killed us. After Richard and Temple escaped, they brought the four of us back. They knew they didn’t have much time after that and had to move quickly, so they took us farther south and eventually to a village where most of the rebels were originally from. Near there were some old tombs. Even if someone had come looking for us and could have found the entrance, there were a maze of passageways in those ruins. Anyway, they felt with that escape they were running out of time before someone came looking for us, so they were determined to get their information quickly. And by quickly, I mean…” Vin swallowed unable to voice the thought.
“They jumped straight into the worst of it, eh?” Mercea grumbled. “Why take time seeing what level a man will crack at if ye can go straight tae the worst. Bastards.” The old man spat into the fireplace, but MacKenzie was frozen and Vin knew he was thinking of Jason and his suffering.
“Aye, they jumped straight to the worst of it. They wanted to know where Urabi was and quickly. But the damned truth of it was Urabi really had been exiled and set free, they just didn’t want to believe it. They were sure he was being held prisoner, was still in Egypt and they were determined to free their leader. Jenkins died that first week, they went at him so hard. They kept us all together in one room then. We were able to plot our escapes. There were a couple that first few months when all of us could walk at one time. Dewar was killed on the third attempt, I think.”
Vin stared into the fire, remembering those torturous months. “Whippings, hot pokers. Those bastards were masters of pain. Merciless.”
“Let me see,” MacKenzie choked out.
Vin met his eyes for a long while seeing the pain there, knowing that this man wasn’t only seeing Vin but wanting to know what his son had suffered. Pain burst in his heart seeing the old man grieve like that for his only son. He knew he shouldn’t do it but, standing up, Vin shrugged off his jacket before attacking the vest and shirt buttons with trembling hands. Pulling the shirt over his head, he lowered his arms to his sides.
There were three longer and deeper scars across his abdomen, two gunshot wounds and several long triangular burns. Vin pointed these out and several on his arms and the palms of his hands. “Burns from the poker.” Two puckered circles near his shoulder were pointed out next. “When laying it to the skin didn’t work, they tried sticking it in instead. Vin kicked off his shoes and pulled off his stockings before showing them the burned bottoms of his feet. “That kept us from running away for a while.” Drawing a shuddering breath, Vin hesitated to turn around.
“It’s all right, son. Show us,” Mercea said gruffly.
“All that came after this didn’t work,” Vin turned and should them his back. He’d never seen it for himself, only felt it for years as the scars tightened then healed. He had a picture in his mind, however, that was very clear because he had seen Jason’s and Jenkin’s and Dewar’s. Pulling on his shirt, Vin sat back down and watched the old men watching him. They didn’t look disgusted or pitying so much as sad as they thought of Jason suffering the same.
“Have ye ne’er shown those tae another?” Moira’s father asked softly.
“Only Moira,” Vin answered. “Though in all truth I didn’t show them to her in as much as she saw them when she came to my room one night.” He winced at how the words sounded adding, “She had heard me…nightmares, you know? And had come to see what the noise was.”
MacKenzie cleared his throat. “So ye couldnae crack because there was nothing tae tell. What happened next?”
“After about nine months or maybe even a year, I think they realized they were never going to get anything out of us,” Vin went on. “There was some talk of ransom but they didn’t want that.”
“Because then someone would know who had taken ye tae begin wi’,” Mercea guessed.
“Aye, they didn’t want to have retribution rained down on them for taking officers hostage and for the same reason they couldn’t just let us go, knowing we would see their village sent to hell in flames.” Vin stared sightlessly into the fire, his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between them. His chest ached remembering it all and he rubbed it absently as they sat in silence. “Why didn’t they just kill us? No one would have known.
Instead, they kept us locked down there. Sometimes they forgot to feed us. We wallowed in our own filth. We were like animals, forgotten and abused. Killing would have been kinder.”
“Then what happened?” Mercea prompted when Vin lapsed into silence once more.
Vin remembered the day he saw the sun once more, not just a beam of light across the sand floor, but the sun itself beating down on him, blinding him with its intensity.
“We escaped once more. It had been years probably at that point. They were so lax, I almost thought they wanted us to escape.” The feel of the hot sand between his toes, the sweat trickling down his back. His throat suddenly felt as parched as it had been that day and Vin’s voice grew rasping. “We should have gone at night, but we had tried that before. We went at dawn instead, it was so hot already. We stole two camels and ran like fools. No water, heading out into the desert like that was insanity. We were almost dead out there when we heard them coming so we went even faster. They shot me in the leg and it went through and into the camel I was on. It went down, I went down.”
Vin swallowed unaware that tears were trickling down his cheeks. “Jason turned back to get me. No! No! I kept yelling at him. Keep going! Run! God damn you! Run!”
Vin’s voice was hoarse with emotion and he hung his head. “Why didn’t he run?”
Chapter 39
A safe but sometimes chilly way of recalling the past is to force open a crammed drawer. If you are searching for anything in particular you don't find it, but something falls out at the back that is often more interesting.
~ James M. Barrie
“He wouldnae hae left ye any more than ye would have left him, son.” Vin looked up to find both men in tears and finally felt his own running down his face. “Jason loved ye like a brother, son. He would ne’er hae left ye there alone.”
All You Could Ask For Page 116
