by Monica Burns
For most of the time since the fire, the abbey had been her sanctuary from well-meaning friends intent on easing her sorrow. Her family had been far more willing to let her choose the amount of time she wanted to grieve, that is until Sebastian had called her into his study yesterday.
The sudden jarring sound of the compartment door opening jerked her out of the past. Startled, she quickly turned her head to see the white-haired conductor standing in the doorway.
“Tis no’ far now tae Dunblane, me lady.”
The soft burr in the man’s voice was a sound that said she was close to the one place she loved more than anywhere else in the world. Not even Westbrook Farms had been so treasured in her heart even though there had been happy times there until that terrible night. Aware her thoughts had drifted off and the conductor was patiently awaiting any instructions she had. Louisa winced as she met his gaze.
“Thank you. If you would, please have one of the porters secure my luggage when we arrive. There are two trunks in the baggage car that need to be unloaded.”
“Aye, me lady. I’ll see tae it.” The conductor nodded then closed the compartment door to leave her alone again.
The scenery through the window had changed from a barren landscape to one dotted with cottages and farms. Louisa recognized one of the houses that sat on the outskirts of Dunblane as the slowing train rattled past it. In little more than an hour, she’d be at Callendar Abbey with its peaceful, healing atmosphere. For the first time since leaving London, she experienced a serenity she’d not felt for a very long time.
It had been the right decision to leave the boys in London for the next two or three weeks. They would enjoy being with their cousins for a little longer, and she would cherish the quiet in the abbey. As much as she adored her sons, she knew she required the peace to do what she needed to do. It would be far easier to say goodbye to the past in the peaceful tranquility of Callendar Abbey without the rambunctious antics of the boys.
She also didn’t want either of them, especially Charlie to see her if they caught any sign of her weeping. Her oldest had taken on more than just his father’s title upon Devin’s death. Charlie had become extremely protective of her, and it troubled him deeply if anyone said something to bring her grief to the surface, including himself.
The train lurched to a halt, and Louisa quickly pulled on her black leather gloves then picked up her hat from the seat beside her and set it on top of her head. She was securing it with a hatpin when the door to the compartment slid open. Fergus’s tall, lanky frame filled the doorway, and he nodded at her with a cheerful grin.
“Welcome back, me lady. Tis good tae see ye again.” Just as the conductor’s quiet Scottish brogue had filled her with a sense of homecoming, Fergus’s voice had the same effect.
“Thank you, Fergus. I’ve two bags here.” Louisa pointed to the small traveling case and larger portmanteau. “And two trunks in the baggage car.”
“Aye. One of the porters has already unloaded yer luggage so I kin load it onto the cart.”
“Is Alfred not with you?” Louisa asked in with a small amount of surprise.
“No, me lady. Tis Alfred’s arthritis. . His knee locked up so badly last night, he’s barely able to walk. Being as it was just ye, I told him I could come by myself.”
Fergus picked up her bags and stepped out into the corridor to make his way to the carriage exit. Collecting her purse, she followed him down the narrow hallway. Fergus set down her luggage on the station’s wooden platform then offered his hand to assist her down the carriage’s metal steps. Satisfied she was safely off the train, Fergus retrieved her luggage and headed around the side of the small station building.
As she followed the long-time servant, Louisa breathed in the cool air. It was a welcome respite from the stuffy train compartment. There was even the faint earthy hint of fall’s last remnants of heather. Fresh and sweet, it made her realize how much she loathed the tobacco-like smell of burning coal in London.
The delicious smell of tablets from the town’s bakery drifted beneath her nose, and her stomach growled softly. The cold chicken and bread Mrs. Haversham had wrapped in paper for her lunch had been more than filling, but the sweet vanilla scent of the sugary treats made her mouth water.
She drank in another breath of the scent-laden air as she rounded the station to see the abbey’s largest wagon sitting in front of the station. An apologetic look on his face, Fergus grimaced at her surprise as he touched his cap.
“Forgive me, my lady, but Alfred insisted. He says his knee tells him there’s a bad storm coming. He thought it best tae bring the wagon, since a carriage could easily get stuck in the mud.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Louisa said with a smile as she glanced up at the gray sky. Alfred’s uncanny accuracy in his ability to predict bad weather was a trait the family heeded without question. “If it decides to rain, I suspect we’ll be warm and cozy inside the abbey before it begins. Besides I confess that after being on a stuffy train all day the fresh air is preferable.”
Relief swept across the man’s face as he continued to load the wagon with Louisa’s luggage. In minutes they were pulling away from the station. On their way out of town, they passed the bakery, and she asked Fergus to stop to buy a tablet for the two of them. They washed the sweet pastries down with milk the servant had bought as they headed out of Dunblane along Doune Road.
They were well past Doune Castle when a light rain began to fall. Fergus muttered something under his breath and reached behind him to pull out a wool blanket. He handed it to her with a frown.
“It will help keep ye dry, my lady.”
Louisa accepted the blanket and threw it over head. With each passing mile, the rain began to fall harder, which caused Fergus to mutter with growing irritation. He threw up the collar of his jacket as the sky darkened considerably. Thunder boomed over their heads, and Louisa sighed. As much as she loved the highlands, she didn’t enjoy being soaked to the skin with winter so close at hand. It made the rain cold as ice.
In her eagerness to reach Callendar Abbey, she’d miscalculated the timing of the storm. Her mouth tightened with self-disgust. As always, the Rockwood trait for casting caution to the wind had made her dismiss Fergus’s suggestion they seek shelter at Doune Castle a few miles back.
It made no sense to turn back now. They were closer to the abbey than the castle. She deserved to be wet and cold, although Fergus didn’t. Irritated by her reckless decision, she blew out a small puff of air in silent frustration and recrimination. Another shiver rippled through her as daylight slowly gave way to the approaching night. The sprinkle of rain began to fall harder, and she pulled the wool blanket tighter around her shoulders.
As they approached the Cambus Burn, she inhaled a sharp breath at the sight. Unlike the last burn they’d crossed, the stream was swollen to more than three times its normal size. Fergus drew the horses to a stop and stared in dismay at the raging water.
“It was no’ like this earlier, me lady. Perhaps we should turn back.” The young man had a helpless look on his face. Despite her own trepidation, Louisa patted his arm.
"This is the last burn between us and the abbey. Once we’re across, it’s only a few miles from home.” She smiled and nodded toward the sturdy animals pulling the wagon. “The horses will get across without much trouble. Besides, I’m certain Mrs. Campbell will have hot stew and bread waiting for us.”
“But ye are soaked, my lady.”
“It isn’t the first time,” she said with a twist of her lips. “But the sooner we reach the abbey, the sooner we’ll both be dry and warm.”
A troubled look still on his face, Fergus didn’t reply. He simply nodded then slapped the reins against the horses’ backsides to urge them forward. One of the animals shook his head in protest, but the other one simply moved forward forcing the other to follow.
The water rose high on the wheels of the wagon, and the stout vehicle shuddered slightly from the strength o
f the water’s flow. Ever so slowly the horses pulled the wagon through the burn and up onto the muddy road. A relieved grin on his face, Fergus glanced in her direction.
“I’ll no’ doubt Colman or Tulipan again, me lady.”
Fergus praised the animals as he urged them forward. They’d gone only a quarter of a mile from the burn when the wagon hit a pot hole hidden by the dim light. A loud crack filled the air, and the wagon lurched violently to one side. The jolt sent Louisa crashing into Fergus so hard it threw him out of the vehicle. Quickly righting herself, she leaned over the side of the wagon to see the young man sprawled in the mud.
“Fergus, are you all right?”
When he didn’t move or speak, Louisa drew in a sharp breath of dismay. Scrambling down from the wagon, she leaned over the unconscious man. Her heart sank at the bloody wound on his temple, and she straightened upright to look around her. There wasn’t even a hint of shelter anywhere as she stared out at the moor. Aware she needed to get Fergus out of the rain, Louisa quickly searched the back of the wagon for another blanket, but the only thing available was the canvas that covered her luggage.
It was a struggle to drag the heavy cover off her trunks, but she managed to keep the dry part of the canvas free of water and mud as she spread it out beneath the wagon. She turned back to Fergus and debated how to move him under the wagon. With as much strength as she could muster, she tried to drag the man toward the underbelly of the wagon but barely managed to move him a few inches.
“Damn,” she muttered.
The unladylike curse would have earned her a dark frown from Sebastian, and Percy would have simply laughed. Lord how she wished they were here now.
She wiped her eyes free of rain and moved to put the man between her and the wagon. Sinking down onto her heels, Louisa grunted with exertion as she rolled Fergus under the wagon and onto the dry side of the canvas.
The man didn’t utter a sound, and Louisa’s heart sank again as she struggled to cover Fergus’s body with the remaining half of the heavy tarpaulin. Huddling beneath the wagon, Louisa cherished the small reprieve from the cold rain as she contemplated her next move. She wasn’t unacquainted with serious injuries, but Fergus’s silence as she’d dragged him to shelter worried her deeply.
Louisa glanced down at the man and noted the pallor of his skin. It was obvious she would have to go for help. Alfred was the only other man at the abbey as everyone else had accompanied Aunt Matilda to London. If Alfred’s knee made it difficult to walk, her only other option was Doune Castle or Argaty Keep.
The Earl of Argaty’s estate had to be nearby, but she had no idea where. Aunt Matilda had made it clear she couldn’t tolerate the earl’s wife, and she’d never even met the man or his countess. While she had never shown fear in the face of any reckless behavior she’d committed, she knew better than to try and find the earl’s home in the dark. That left Doune Castle. Louisa muttered a curse even Percy would have denounced as she scrambled out from under the wagon.
With as much speed as possible, she unhitched Colman and loosely tied the horse to the back of the wagon. Despite the horse being the steadier of the two animals, Colman was much older than Tulipan. It would much harder for the gelding to cross the burns, which were still rising. She found a small knife in a makeshift tool box beneath the wagon seat and proceeded to cut a reasonable length of rein from Tulipan’s tack.
Discarding the extra leather straps, she quickly unhitched the horse and led him to the wagon’s front seat. Quickly climbing onto the floorboard of the wagon, she tugged Tulipan into place, hitched up her skirts, and climbed onto the animal’s back. Until now her legs had been dry, but Tulipan’s wet coat immediately remedied that situation. Shivering, she gathered up the makeshift reins and headed back the way they’d come. When they reached the burn they’d crossed earlier, the horse indicated his reluctance to enter the water. Irritated by his fractious behavior, she released a harsh breath of disgust.
“Stop being a ninny you blasted animal. You just crossed this stream a few minutes ago.”
Louisa pressed her heels firmly into Tulipan’s sides and urged him forward. Slowly the horse made its way into the rushing stream. Glancing down, she saw the water was now almost up to the horse’s knees, and she flinched as he stumbled slightly and water splashed up over her foot.
“Come on, Tulipan. Just a few more feet,” she muttered. As if understanding her encouragement, the horse took two more steps forward then quickly scrambled up the bank of the burn. A few yards away from the water, she stopped him and leaned forward to pat his neck.
“Good boy. See, that wasn’t too hard, was it.” She smiled as the horse bobbed his head then danced sideways at the flash of lightning in the sky, which was followed by a loud crack of thunder directly overhead. Tulipan snorted loudly in fear, and maintaining a tight grip on the makeshift reins, she tried to soothe the animal. “It’s all right boy. It’s just a little thunder.
Louisa pressed her knees into the animal’s side and urged him into a slow trot. It didn’t take long to reach the last burn that stood between them and Doune Castle. Buchany Burn wasn’t nearly as wide as the one they’d cross moments before, but the water looked much deeper. She would have to jump.
Barely thinking through the decision, she rode Tulipan a short distance away from the burn before turning him around and prodded him into a gallop. The horse cleared the burn easily but the landing caused Louisa to slip slightly to one side on the animal’s wet back. She’d barely recovered her seat when a bolt of lightning hit the ground several yards away, and the horse reared in terror.
Desperate to remain seated, Louisa grasped the animal’s mane and pressed her body into the horse’s neck. The animal’s feet hit the ground in a hard jolt, and Louisa barely managed to maintain her already precarious seat on the animal’s back. Another loud boom of thunder sounded above their heads, and with a wild cry of fear, Tulipan lunged forward.
Another flash of lightning lit the sky followed by booming thunder. It caused the animal to sharply change direction. Unable to maintain her seat on the horse’s rain-slicked back, she flew through the air to the ground. Her hip and shoulder hit the soggy moor a split-second before her head hit something hard. With a cry of pain she lost consciousness.
The first thing she felt was the icy sting of the rain on her cheek. For a moment, she laid where she was. Every part of her body ached, and while she’d been soaked before, now it felt as if Tulipan had dumped her into the burn they’d crossed. Even worse was the hammer beating a loud, powerful rhythm in her head.
The storm was still raging around her, and she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. The movement caused her stomach to lurch unpleasantly as the pounding in her head sharpened. Eyes closed, she remained still until the pain had eased to a dull throb.
She’d never been so wet and cold in her life. Teeth chattering, she stood trembling and huddled over as the icy rain beat down on her. It was impossible to tell how long she’d been unconscious, but it was completely dark, which meant it had been at least two hours, maybe more, since Tulipan had thrown her.
A small voice in her head told her to look up. When she did so, she saw a light flickering in the darkness. Hope swelled inside her, and she stumbled toward the faint glow. She’d only gone a few feet when she tripped over a rock and fell. Slowly she climbed to her feet and continued toward the light.
The rain-soaked skirt of her dress grew heavier with each passing moment until it felt as if she were dragging a heavy cart behind her. Exhaustion settled in her limbs while the pounding in her head only added to her misery. The sensation of walking on broken glass made her bite her lip as the rest of her body protested against the tiny little needles of pain trying to puncture her skin.
Willing herself not to cry, Louisa plodded her way forward. Suddenly the light disappeared, and a hard wind knocked her off her feet. As she tried to stand up, a wave of hopelessness swept over her. Slowly, she sank back down to her knee
s. No more. She was in too much pain, too cold, and too weary to take another step.
“Stand up right now, Louisa Rockwood Morehouse. A Rockwood does not quit.” Harsh with anger, Caleb’s voice rang out clear and strong above her.
Startled by the sound, she jerked her head up to see her brother standing in front of her, arms folded across his chest as he glared at her.
“Caleb…?” She blinked rapidly as she made out his solid form. Certain she was dreaming she closed her eyes against her brother’s image. With a growl of disgust she remembered so well, Caleb squatted in front of her.
“If you’re a true Rockwood, little sister, you’ll get up onto your feet this minute.”
“I…can’t…I’m so cold.”
“I don’t give a fuck how cold you are, Louisa. Get up.” Outraged by the brutally caustic tone of his voice more than his crude language, she scowled fiercely at him.
“Do…not…talk…to…me…like…that,” she said angrily through her chattering teeth. “Sebastian…wouldn’t.”
“I won’t mollycoddle you like our oldest brother would. And Sebastian’s not here to tell you what to do,” he snarled viciously. “I am. Now for once in your goddamn life, do as I say. Act like a Rockwood and stand up.”
Anger drove her to stand upright as the Rockwood stubbornness suppressed the throbbing in her head to a dull murmur. Swaying where she stood, she scowled at her brother as he smiled with smug satisfaction.
“So—now that I’m dead you decide to listen to me.” At the mockery in his voice, she cried out in sorrow.
“No.” The anguish in her objection made him grimace.
“It’s all right, little sister. Everything will be all right,” his voice was soft with affection.
She’d always hated it when Caleb had referred to her as his little sister, but at the moment, it was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. The sensation of a gentle kiss brushed against her brow even though he didn’t move.
“Turn to your right and look, Louisa. Look hard.”
