The Inheritance (16 page)

December 1745

Isobel put another log on the fire and looked out at the darkened sea.  The gibbous moon hung over the water illuminating a silver path on the placid surface.  She opened the window just a crack and took a lungful of frigid air.  She thought it would snow tonight. 

Life at the castle had been very quiet since the men
had left.  The women went about their business of living life, caring for their children, and worrying about their men.  Correspondence was sporadic, and if anyone had any news, they shared it with the rest. 

The h
arvest had been difficult with so few workers, but they managed with the help of the children and old folk who had been too frail to ride with the Laird to join the king.  Isobel’s favorite part of the day was when the women gathered in the sewing room to work together.  They exchanged news and told stories, real and imagined, and Isobel didn’t feel so alone.  She loved hearing the stories of the fairy folk and selkies because they took her away to a different world.  They gave her a short break from her own anxiety. 

She would be forever grateful to Anna and Dougal for their help.  Rory had told her to trust them and she did.  He inserted his letters to her inside Dougal’s letters to Anna
, and so far it had worked.  No one would intercept the correspondence of a blacksmith and a farmer’s daughter in hope of learning state secrets.  They weren’t important enough and hoped to keep it that way.  Isobel thought that Anna would be shocked by her relationship with Rory, but Anna was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing. 

“I always thought him a handsome devil,” she said, “but be careful, my girl.  If y
er husband gets wind of this, there will be hell to pay.  Have nay doubt he’ll kill him.  He won’t fight him openly, because Rory is the better swordsman, and nae as clumsy as the Laird, but he will make sure that a sword or a bullet finds his heart.  It was always like that between them.  John never openly did anything to hurt Rory, but managed to manipulate the situation to his advantage, and blame Rory for whatever misdeed he was guilty of until Rory learned to anticipate his venom.  And dinna worry about Dougal betraying you.  He would die for Rory.”

Isobel
had had a letter a few weeks ago, but hadn’t gotten one since.  She knew that the king was still in Edinburgh planning his campaign against the British.  Several men had turned up in the past few weeks having gotten tired of sitting around and missing their home.  They felt no desire to march on England, and felt that the king was being overly ambitious in hoping to take on King George’s army.  Isobel went cold with fear every time she thought of it.  They were safe for now, but the Highland Army would march south toward London.  Sooner or later, battles would be fought and her Rory would be in front, leading the charge as they faced English cannons with broadswords.   John didn’t have to lift a finger to dispose of Rory.  The English would do that for him.

Isobel
turned from the window and sat down at her dressing table, picking up her hair brush.  Christmas was coming and she would have to put on a merry face for the inhabitants of the castle.  She heard a noise at the door and turned around in annoyance.  She had a new maid, Bess.  The girl was slow and clumsy and a bit daft, but she felt sorry for her and told herself to have patience.  She probably just forgot something.  The door opened quietly, and Isobel gasped in fear to see a man looming in the darkness until she saw Rory’s eager smile.  He locked the door and swept her off her feet in a bone-crushing embrace.  He was smeared with mud and smelled of sweat and horses, but she didn’t care.  He was home, and that’s all that mattered for the moment. 

“Is there any hot water?  I
’m filthy.”  She saw him looking around until he saw the jug of wine, and he took a long swig and slumped into a chair. 

“Y
e must be hungry,” Isobel was quickly thinking of how to ask for food without revealing his presence in her chamber.

“I
’m famished, but dinnae fash.  I’ll get something later.  The sight of ye is all I need.”  He looked at her with such longing, it melted her heart.

“I am so happy to see y
e.  Yer letters are the only thing that’s kept me going these past months.”  Suddenly, her gaze flew to the door.  “John is nae here, is he?”

“No, lass.  It’s just me and Dougal. 
John is dancing attendance on the king.  We’ve come back to try to re-recruit the men who fled, and Dougal had an ulterior motive for volunteering.  I trust they will be needing us tomorrow.”  With that, he took off his dusty coat and drew her to him again.  He held her close and smelled her hair as he ran his fingers through the fiery curls. 

“Shall I stay here tonight,
love?  I’ll leave afore dawn, so yer maid willnae see me.” 

Isobel
nodded, wrapping her arms around him and putting her ear to his chest.  His heartbeat was like the steady beating of a drum and she felt reassured that he was well.  Isobel undid his belt and the kilt fell to the floor at her feet.  She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her hands over his body taking inventory.  Rory looked amused and pulled her shift off, kissing her soundly as he walked her backward to the bed.  He started to caress her, but she didn’t want caresses.  She moved his hand away and opened her legs in invitation.  Rory gave her a look of understanding and rammed himself inside her.  He didn’t want to play either.  He wanted oblivion that could only be found inside her.  She matched him thrust for thrust and when he collapsed on top of her drained and sated, she felt complete. 

She
laid her head on his shoulder and listened to his breathing as it became shallow and even.  He needed his rest and she needed to feel him next to her.  She stayed awake half the night, not wanting to give up a moment with him, but eventually she couldn’t fight sleep any longer and dozed off.

When the pearly light of morning began to filter through the leaded windows, Rory slipped out of the room.  She half heard him go, but couldn’t rouse herself from sleep.  She heard
Bess entering a short time later and kindling the fire.  Isobel felt at peace knowing that she would see Rory later.  They would stay for a few days trying to talk the men into going back.  She had time.

Rory prudently decided not to tell Isobel of last night’s adventures.  He didn’t want her to worry and no harm had been done, at least not to him. 

After a long day in the saddle, Rory and Dougal had chosen a wooded spot away from the road to make camp for the night.  They hadn
’t encountered anyone on the road for hours, and the only sounds they heard were the hooting of owls and the wind blowing through the bare branches of the trees, their skeletal limbs black against the winter sky.  They had bought some bread and sausage in the last village they passed and were looking forward to their meager meal.  They hadn’t eaten since that morning, and Dougal’s stomach rumbled loudly as he sat back on his legs and started to kindle the fire. 

             
Rory walked off into the woods to relieve himself after the long ride, and breathed in the fresh country air scented with pine and the smoke of their campfire.  He finished, and adjusting his kilt, walked a few steps back to the campsite when he heard voices carried on the wind.  Dougal had been alone, so they had either been joined by some locals or had been spotted by an English patrol.  Rory crept toward the fire, hiding behind the thicker trees. 

He could see Dougal
on his knees, illuminated by the flames of the fire as the Redcoat held a gun to his head.  The second soldier had his gun pointed into the woods peering nervously into the darkness.  Rory quickly went over his options.  The soldiers obviously knew that Dougal wasn’t alone.  The second horse grazing next to Dougal’s very effectively ruined Rory’s element of surprise.  He had his sword, but to charge out of the woods with a sword was suicide when faced with two loaded guns. 

Rory silently bent down and pulled the dirk out of his stocking.  He had only one chance to get this right
, and he said a quick prayer asking God to guide his hand.  The dagger whizzed silently through the trees piercing the throat of the soldier facing the woods.  Dougal seized his moment, and grabbing his assailant around the knees, brought him down on the hard ground pinning him with his weight.  The soldier dropped the gun as he fell and Dougal grabbed for it, using the butt to smash the Englishman’s face until it was reduced to a mass of bloody pulp. 

Rory came out of the woods and walked over to his victim.  Blood was spurting
from the man’s throat, but he was still mouthing silent cries begging for help that wouldn’t come.  Rory picked up the soldier’s rifle and drove the bayonet under his ribs into the heart.  He watched the man’s eyes look up toward the heavens as death took him into its cold embrace.    

              Rory pulled the dagger out of the corpse and wiped it on the soldier’s red tunic.  He loved that dirk. 

             
“We should bury them,” he said quietly.  He was exhausted, and they had no shovel or any other tool that could be used for digging.

Dougal was still staring at the bloodied corpse at his feet.  He looked at Rory with a sad smile.

              “I’m too tired, brother.  Let’s just throw them into a ditch, and have our supper.” 

             
Rory shrugged and helped Dougal lift the first man.  They tossed the Englishmen into a nearby ditch and said a prayer for the repose of their souls.  Dougal fashioned a cross out of two sticks, and drove it into the soft ground above the corpses, leaving the dead to their eternal rest and returning to the campsite to eat their meager meal.

Rory had been right about Dougal and Anna.  Isobel saw Anna running through the courtyard from the Hall window.  Her blue cloak was billowing around her and her hood was falling off, her dark curls spilling onto her shoulders.  Isobel went to meet her friend and Anna flew straight into her arms.

“
Isobel, Dougal is back.  He’ll be here for a few days.  Will ye come with us to kirk this morning?  We are finally going to be wed.  Rory is here too.  He slept at the forge last night,” at this she gave Isobel a loaded look and went on, “I am so happy.  I only wish we could have a bit of privacy afore he goes back.” 

Isobel
considered the situation.  Anna lived in a crowded cottage with her parents and siblings, and Dougal lived behind the forge.  There was nowhere for the newlyweds to go since they’d had no time to prepare a home of their own.  Isobel had an idea.

“Anna, you must come here after the wedding.  We’ll have a feast in the Hall
, and then you must use my husband’s chamber.  He’s away and it’s been empty these past months.  Please accept it as my contribution to yer marital happiness.  I promise ye will not be disturbed.”  This time it was Isobel who gave Anna the meaningful look and the girls burst into giggles. 

“
Aye, thank ye.  That will be just grand.  I’ll tell Dougal.  Can ye be ready in an hour?”  Anna was already running off.  Isobel smiled at her happiness and went to change her gown and fetch her cloak. 

Anna didn
’t have a new gown for her wedding and Dougal looked worn and disheveled, but their happiness was obvious to everyone around them.  Rory smiled at Isobel wistfully as the happy couple said their vows in front of the old priest, oblivious to everyone around them.  She knew what he was thinking and wished that such happiness was possible for them as well.

The feast wasn
’t a very grand one, being attended mostly by women, children and old folks.  Joan was noticeably absent, and Isobel was only too happy not to have her at the castle to observe her and Rory together.  Why give her more ammunition? The bridal pair had eyes only for each other and retired to the Laird’s chamber as soon as they decently could.  Isobel gave strict orders not to disturb them and eventually made her escape. 

She had asked
Bess for hot water for her bath and sneaked up some cake and apples for later.  The water was wonderfully hot, and Isobel took off her clothes and lowered herself into the copper tub. She didn’t have to wait long for Rory to join her.  He lowered himself into the warm water and gave a sigh of pleasure.  He hadn’t had a real bath in weeks and was only too glad to share hers.  Isobel washed his hair and scrubbed his back, and giggled as he tried to get amorous in a tub clearly meant for one. 

There was a large puddle by the time they finally got out and climbed into bed. 
Bess wasn’t expected back tonight and had orders not to come in the morning, so as not to disturb the newlyweds.  Rory would stay the night.  Tonight there was no need to rush. 

Rory told her that the Highland
Army had advanced into England as far as Derby and Manchester, but had to retreat back to Scotland in early December pursued by English troops.  The army was short on supplies and munitions and most men were in desperate need of boots and warm clothes.  The situation didn’t bode well for the Scots, but Isobel didn’t want to dwell on the issues.  She was happy to have Rory back and he was all she cared about as they got out of the tub and went to bed.

**

Rory and Dougal left in two days, followed by five men.  They didn’t have much success talking the others into returning.  The men who remained behind were farmers who didn’t share the political ambitions of the young King.  They wanted independence from England and a monarch of their own, not to fight for the Stuarts to reclaim the English throne from the Hanovers.  The spring planting was in a few months’ time, and they intended to be there to see it through.

Isobel
stood by the gate until she could no longer see the riders and then headed back inside.  It was cold out and a layer of snow covered the frozen mud.  She would go see Anna. She would need to be comforted since she was facing another separation from Dougal.