Yesterday's Promise

by Michele Paige Holmes

  “Time later for those tales,” Alistair said. “It’s enough for now that you understand the Campbells need a change in leadership. There are many eagerly awaiting your return.”

  “And some not as much,” Collin added, his expression grim.

  “Brann does not wish—” I broke off, understanding— through those same wisps, vague snatches of both past and future— what both Collin and Alistair meant. I was a laird’s granddaughter. The clan was split, with some believing Brann had the right to lead while at least half felt it was I who should have succeeded my grandfather. Oh my.

  I tugged free from Collin’s grasp and clutched my hands over my pounding heart. “But I’m a woman.”

  “So was Mary, Queen of Scots,” Alistair said.

  “And look at the terrible end she met!” I stepped back and shook my head. I wanted nothing to do with such a preposterous idea as being the leader of Clan Campbell. I turned away from them. Folding my arms across my middle, I hugged myself against the many worries I felt, the immense pressure suddenly coming to rest on my shoulders. What was happening to Scotland, to the clans? Lairds did not abdicate their authority to brothers less than fit to rule. And I’d never heard of a female taking over a lairdship. Especially a female whose blood is half English.

  “Which way should we go, Katie?” Collin asked, bringing the subject round again to our more immediate problem.

  “Back to England,” I said, only half joking. The life I’d lived there seemed a fairy tale now, idyllic and peaceful, where I’d spent my days eating crumpets and drinking tea, riding my horse, and sitting in the yard with paintbrush and easel. I longed for those days suddenly, for my father and mother and siblings. For the home and comforts that had been mine.

  “I’ll take you back— if that is what you wish.” Collin’s voice was quiet and sorrowful. I turned to him, but he would not meet my gaze.

  He doesn’t want me— to leave. Whatever I’d lost in material possessions and security in the last twenty-four hours had been more than made up for by Collin’s admissions last night and this morning. He had married me because he wanted to. He planned to leave his clan for me.

  Being married is the promise of having a friend... the possibility of not being lonely...

  Even if I had truly wanted to return, I could never leave him. With each passing hour I understood that more. The vows we had spoken in my foyer were not our first. Our bond spanned not five days but fifteen years.

  And they weren’t just vows of marriage. They were promises made to our families— past, present, and future. No wonder Collin appeared so serious and weary. While I’d been growing up in a home of privilege, he had been laboring alone. The years of my carefree childhood had been years of toil and trouble for him.

  “I ought to take you right back where you came from.” Collin spoke with conviction. “You’d have a chance at a normal life.”

  “Bah,” Alistair swatted at the air. “Lass like this wasn’t made for ordinary.” He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “She was born for more’n that. As were you.” He sent a pointed look at Collin.

  Meant... for more. Father had told me that after it became apparent I would have no season, no real chance at suitors as other girls my age did. I remembered that conversation as if it were yesterday. At the time I thought he’d been referring to my paintings, my art, and that I should make something of it. Perhaps I still would. In a way I had never considered.

  Somehow feeling that Father had known who I was and what was intended for me helped immensely. He had believed I was meant for more. He had believed in me.

  Pushing back my fears, I raised my chin and stared directly at Collin. “I expect you to take me right back where I came from— my grandfather’s castle.”

  “Your castle, you mean?” Alistair grinned. “Your grandfather left it to you.”

  More responsibility. “Lovely.” I tried to sound appreciative. It wasn’t every day a girl inherited a castle.

  “You’re starting to realize what that means now.” Collin stepped near to me. “Are you certain, Katie?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, feeling both rational and calm with the decision. The inner turmoil I’d been fighting settled, and it was almost as if I could hear my ancestors sighing their relief. I was not only on my way home but had accepted what I was supposed to do. What we are supposed to do. There was no I to the equation. Without Collin we would not succeed.

  All this standing around was not going to accomplish anything either. I searched my mind, hoping for some clue of what we were to do next.

  “I’m not sure which way we should go.” I took a moment, pacing in front of them, trying to collect my thoughts and wondering where the previous ones had come from. I’d envisioned the whole thing so clearly, like a scene from a play unfolding before my eyes. Still, I couldn’t quite believe that Collin and Alistair were paying me such heed. Had I ever dared to suggest strategy to Father or his military comrades I would have been laughed out of the room— had I even been permitted there in the first place. But my husband and cousin both appeared in earnest with their requests for more information.

  “There has been some delay.” I pictured the previous night’s camp in my mind, men from both clans clustered around the carriage. “Ian insisted he must have the carriage to ride in.” My eyes flashed to Collin’s, remembering what he had said of his brother’s injury. “But the Campbells felt they needed it to bring my trunk.” I saw it opened on the ground, the contents more scattered than when the English soldiers had gone through them. Ian seemed to be at the center of both the argument and the crowd. When at last it parted, I saw him clearly, leaning against the carriage, my sketchbook in his hand.

  Oh no. I watched as he discovered the picture of Collin, tore it from the book, and stuffed it in his pocket. More unease stole over me. The sketch all but confirmed what Ian might have only suspected— that I had feelings for his brother. I didn’t know how he would accomplish it, but I had no doubt Ian planned to use that knowledge to his advantage.

  “I’ll be leaving you now,” Alistair said suddenly. He swung onto his horse before we could object, though Collin reached up and held onto the reins.

  “What are you up to?” he asked, mirroring my thoughts entirely.

  “Just want to get home to my family. Can’t stand around here talking all day.”

  “Alistair.” I looked up at him. “You’re going to meet up with Brann?”

  His mouth twisted. “Didn’t take you long to get that extra sense working again. I’d hoped to get ahead of it.” He tried to take the reins, but Collin held them fast as he looked to me for an explanation.

  “It’s not my extra sense that gave him away, but his guilty, sly expression.” I tilted my head back, looking up at Alistair. “You’re thinking to mislead Brann about the way we’ve gone and who we’re traveling with.”

  “Are you now?” Collin retained his grip.

  “You have a better suggestion?” Alistair’s brows knit together as he looked down on me with clear exasperation. “You’re not the only ones with an interest in preserving the Campbells. And you won’t be able to do it alone. First thing we have to do is get you there safely. And if Brann can’t find you...”

  “It’s a dangerous game you’re proposing,” Collin said.

  “Bit more at stake than a chess piece or two,” Alistair agreed.

  I’ve a wife to get home to, he’d said. I didn’t want the responsibility for his safe return, yet— absurdly— I felt it. “I wish I could see the future and your safe return to your family.”

  Alistair shook his head. “Sight doesn’t work that way. You can’t choose what you want to see. It chooses what it wants to show you.”

  “What will you tell Brann about Malcom?” Collin asked.

  “The truth,” Alistair said. “That you’ve killed him and sworn to do the same to anyone else who threatens your wife.”

  “Take care, friend.” Collin released the reins.

 
; “You as well,” Alistair said.

  “We’ll be all right,” I said, still enjoying the aura of peace that had accompanied my acceptance.

  “No doubt you’ll do fine,” Alistair said. “Now that you’ve each other again.” He nodded his head at us. “It was a pleasure to be at your wedding.”

  “Thank you,” Collin and I both said at once.

  “Don’t worry if it’s a week or more before you see us again,” Collin added.

  “Oh?” Alistair said.

  “Katie deserves some time before she has to confront Brann,” Collin said. “Not remembering, not knowing beforehand any of this or us—” He glanced at me. “I’d take longer if I thought we dared, but Ian will come searching out her dowry if I don’t get it to him soon.”

  A fleeting look of discomfort flashed in Alistair’s eyes.

  At the prospect of a visit from Ian? Or was there some issue with my dowry?

  “God speed, friend,” Collin said.

  “Thank you for everything, Alistair.” I felt a swell of affection for the older man.

  “Least I could do.” He waved away my gratitude even as his face colored again.

  Collin put his arm around me as if we were a couple long acquainted and familiar with one another. Almost feeling we were, and liking it immensely, I leaned into him and allowed my own hand to slide around his waist. We stood thus, watching Alistair ride off toward the moor until we could see him no longer. Even then we did not move.

  The forest around us silenced, as if it, too, was in awe of this moment. I closed my eyes, savoring our closeness, the weight of Collin’s arm across my shoulder both comforting and exhilarating.

  Beneath my cheek his heartbeat sounded steadily, if not a little quick. My own pulsed rapidly in my ears as well, hastened by our contact. His touch provided a physical warmth as well as something that went much deeper. We were alone in a Scotland forest, with nearly nothing with which to survive and multiple parties seeking our destruction, yet suddenly my worries were gone. Alone but not lonely. In danger, yet safe.

  Somewhere I had heard such a sentiment before. What, moments ago, I would have rejected as utter nonsense now seemed perfectly logical.

  Feeling bold, I tilted my face towards Collin, looking up at him. “What have you just done?”

  He didn’t avoid my question or pretend he thought I was speaking of Alistair leaving us. “What I am supposed to, Katie.” He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, then released me.

  I looked at him expectantly, hoping for more of an explanation as we stood facing each other.

  Collin reached out and brushed his fingers against my cheek. “What I am sworn to do.”

  If he had sworn to make me forget all else in the world except for him, he was succeeding marvelously. Though I did not think that quite what he meant. I took his hand and pressed my lips to his palm. “Thank you.”

  Happiness sparked briefly in his eyes, followed at once by sorrow, then regret. He pulled his hand away and stepped back, releasing a nearly inaudible sigh. “And now we’d best be about figuring a route to get us safely away from our enemies.”

  The words the old laird spoke sounded more like a wizard’s. It would take magic to do what he suggested— entwining our clans, each dependent upon the other if any were to survive. Then came the vows of betrothal. Katie and I repeated some, her voice the barest whisper in the great hall. Mine was slightly stronger, as I grasped already that I had to be the stronger one of the two of us— for now, anyway. She was to be the seer, I the defender— of Katie, of our people, our very way of life. Even Scotland it seemed. I couldn’t imagine what might be coming that could possibly be worse than what we’d just endured with the failed uprising, but Laird Campbell saw something. For a moment, I saw it, too, there in the depths of his steel-grey eyes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I have a route in mind,” Collin said. “It will add considerable time to our journey, but we’ll be safe, and I think you’ll find it a proper introduction to the Highlands.” He glanced over and found me adjusting the blanket once more to cover my torn dress. Collin’s gaze slid to my shoeless feet. “Some husband I am. Cannot even keep you clothed.”

  “It isn’t your fault I’m parted with my trunk.” I pulled the blanket tighter, thankful to have it. “So long as we’ve Ian’s horse, I won’t miss not having shoes.”

  “Hmph.” Collin reached into his sporran and took out a handful of oats. “A quick meal before we leave this place?”

  “Raw?” I asked, not trying to sound ungrateful, but also not certain how one went about eating uncooked oats.

  Collin shook his head. “Not completely. I’ll make a cold porridge.”

  “Yes then, please.”

  “Wait here.” He left me beside Ian’s horse and walked toward the moor that had so frightened me. It still did, and I started to call out to him to go another direction in search of water, but only a few paces away Collin knelt and began parting the heather. I watched as he removed a small cup from his pouch and pressed it near to the ground.

  He’d found another spring. They seemed to be everywhere here— a good thing. At least we would have enough to drink.

  Collin returned with the cup, swirling it around in his hand even as his other dug through his pouch for the lone spoon I knew he kept there. We’d shared it the previous morning and did so again now, Collin making sure I had the first bite once the cold oatmeal had been mixed as well as it could be.

  I vow you the first cut of my meat— I’d begun to realize how literally Scots took their promises. What I’d perceived as flowery words were in fact oaths of a practical and even gallant nature.

  “Tonight we will have a fire,” Collin said, by way of apology, I supposed, for our less-than-palatable lunch.

  “And what will we eat?” My shoulder brushed against him as we sat beside one another on the trunk of a fallen tree.

  “Not oatmeal.” His promise and the sour tone in which it was delivered elicited a laugh.

  “I thought Scots never tired of this. Alistair told me himself.”

  “Alistair’s wife is not a good cook,” Collin confided. “It is well his tastes are not particular. But I spent too many years at your grandfather’s table.”

  “And will we eat at that same table again?” I asked.

  Collin shrugged then looked at me. “I don’t know. Will we?”

  “I believe we will,” I said, for the moment optimistic that we should somehow usurp the castle and be welcomed there. We would need more than confidence to succeed. I needed the gift of my heritage. Alistair had said the sight chose what it wanted to show me, and thus far it had warned me only once of danger. I would have to see more, and soon, for both our safety and strategy.

  “You’re troubled.” Collin held the last bite out to me, but I shook my head, my stomach being full enough, and my mouth unable to gag down any more of the bland paste.

  “Not troubled so much as trying to understand why I can see some events of the future but not others. Why didn’t I see you coming to England? Why was I not warned of Ian or Malcom last night?”

  “I don’t know.” Collin’s brow furrowed, as if he was the one worried now.

  Our shoulders brushed again so that even recalling the trauma of the previous night proved no match for my husband’s nearness. I felt overwhelmed by it, by having him so close. Consumed was perhaps the better word. I imagined a cheery fire blazing within me. This near to Collin I could scarce think of or care about much else, save for him. I felt unburdened, comforted. There was more to it as well, this strangely magnetic pull I felt toward him. I didn’t understand these feelings, and in their own way they were frightening. Best to proceed with caution.

  It seemed he had the same idea, as he rose suddenly. “Best be off.” He did not offer a hand to help me rise but instead walked to the brook, where he began to wash out the cup.

  I rose and stretched with soreness from both my unexpected swim in the river and my midni
ght ride. I eyed Ian’s horse with resignation. Things were apt to get worse before they got better. How long would it be until I could sink into a hot bath and sleep in a bed again?

  Collin returned from the spring, then took my hand to help me mount. I felt better almost instantly. What did a bath, bed, or much of anything else matter, except that he was here? We were together at last.

  * * *

  It was mid-afternoon before we stopped again, having just completed a breathtakingly fast gallop across a field of purple. I laughed as Collin slowed Ian’s sweaty stallion. My stomach had tickled during the exhilarating run and now came back to earth, along with the rest of me.

  “Oh my.” I brought my hand to my head, expecting to discover my hair blown everywhere, but felt only Collin’s tightly woven braids, mostly still in place.

  “Does your head ache?” Collin asked, concern in his voice.

  “Not at all.” I felt quite well, considering how long we had ridden. No doubt I’d not feel so fine tomorrow. “I’d forgotten my hair was still plaited. A good thing, or it would be a mess to untangle.”

  “Glad to know my skills saved you from freezing and from tangles.” Collin dismounted, then held his hands out to help me do the same.

  I leaned over and slid into his arms. He held me an extra few seconds while my legs revolted against standing and I tried to get my footing. Apparently I was a bit sore.

  “Your braids did more than that.” I placed my hands on Collin’s forearms as I looked up at him. “Last night Malcom—” I didn’t want to relive those moments. “He tried to grab me by my hair and wasn’t able to, and so for a moment, I was free of his grasp. It bought me time— until you arrived.”

  Collin’s lips pressed together in a grim expression.

  I let go of his arms and looked down, clasping my hands together. “Your braiding skills did save my life.” They had saved more than that. It was perhaps those few seconds gained and the minute that followed when I was out of Malcom’s reach that had preserved my virtue.

  Collin let out a long breath. He reached a hand out, lifting my chin gently so that I looked at him. “All the same. Let’s keep you more than a hair’s distance from danger from now on.”