Her Rebellious Heart: A Scottish Historical Romance (14 page)

             
Life went on at the castle in the usual way, Bridget helping Besse with the housework when necessary and doing a little gardening with Robert in his rose garden. It was his pet project, but Bridget seemed to enjoy it as well. Despite her consistency in these activities, Bridget wasn't the same at all. Besse, Robert, and Aidan carried a sadness that showed on their faces. Bridget seemed preoccupied and quiet, and spoke but little. Sometimes, she would play the piano
forte
for short periods, but there was a restlessness about her, as if she were searching for something that couldn't be found. She was much friendlier towards Aidan and spent hours watching him work with the animals, which gave him a small comfort, but he would have traded her kind words if it meant having the old Bridget back.

             
Whenever she was missed around the house, they invariably found her perched on the top rail of the fence caressing the big stallion and talking to him more than she spoke to any of them. Aidan took some comfort knowing that Sarge had become her constant companion.

             
One day, she disappeared from the house, and Robert presumed her to be down by the stables. He entered Besse's domain, intending to leave the house by the kitchen door to go look for her.  As he did so, he found Besse sitting by the table crying softly.

             
S
urprised, he asked her, “Now what's the matter with you, lass?”

             
She hastily wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “Oh, Mr. MacDonald, I'm so ashamed of myself. When I see poor Bridget like she is, it fair breaks my heart.”

             
“What do mean, Besse? Why are you ashamed of yourself?”

             
“Oh, sir, it's about those noises she spoke to you of at breakfast some time back. I was the one responsible for them. I wanted to scare her away.”

             
Staring out of the window and rubbing the back of his neck, Robert said quietly, “We knew it was you, Besse.”

             
Her face reddened and a fresh flood of tears ran down her cheeks. “You knew?” she stammered between sobs, “Then why didn't you–”

             
He interrupted her, “Why didn't I give you the sack? Because Bridget wouldn't let me. She said she knew how you must have felt about her coming here and couldn't blame you. She also overheard you talking to Mary and Elizabeth the day of the Burns party.”

             
Her face reddened until he thought it would burst. Getting to her feet unsteadily, she stammered, “I'm sure you couldn't want me here now, sir. I'll get ready and leave as soon as I can.”

             
“No, Besse, you are not leaving. I need you now more than ever, and Bridget needs you too.   She didn't want you to lose your job on account of her, and now that she has become dependent on you for so many things, I would never be able to explain to her why you have gone. If you want to make up for the unpleasantness you caused her before, you can stay now and do whatever you can for her. I forgave you long ago, and Bridget never did hold anything against you.”

             
Besse couldn't speak. Tears streamed from her eyes. After a few moments, she sobbed, “Oh thank you, Mr. MacDonald, for wanting me to stay. I'll do anything in my power to help the lassie.  Sometimes without thinking we are easily led on by what somebody else says, but never again, sir. You have my word on that.”

             
Robert assumed she meant what the women had said the day Bridget moved in. He felt a flash of anger at everything Bridget had relayed to him about that conversation. Calming himself, he said, “All right, Besse, and we'll say no more about it.”

             
She vigorously blew her nose and wiped her eyes with her apron. He turned and left the house with a tight-lipped smile on his face.

Chapter 11

              The summer passed quickly. The days became shorter and soon the autumn darkness would be upon them in the early evenings. The fleet was gone to the south of England and outsiders had returned to their homes, leaving the town practically deserted.

             
Bridget's condition remained about the same, although some little things came back to her. There was a lassitude about her that was disconcerting to both Robert and Aidan.

             
One day, Aidan decided to take her up on the battlements of the castle to see if the view, which was almost the same as from the lighthouse, would be at all familiar to her.  He grasped to any little thing at all that might give them some hope.

             
She showed little interest at first, but as she leaned against the stone parapet that ran the length of the battlements, something stirred in her mind as her eyes scanned the surrounding view. She observed the villages to the north and Rattray Head lighthouse to the southwest across the bay. She took in the sight of the stretch of beautiful white sand and remembered playing there often as a child.   With her hand pressed to her forehead, she squinted in puzzlement, and asked, “Have I been up here before, Aidan? I know I have seen this view but from where I cannot remember.” She looked at him questioningly.

             
“No, Bridget, you have never been up here,” he answered, “but you saw a similar view from the lighthouse tower, remember?”

             
“No, Aidan it couldn't have been from there. My parents would never allow us to go. They've always said it was too dangerous.”

             
“You were up there with me, lassie, and I held your arm as we came downstairs.”

             
She frowned, wrinkling her forehead.“It does sound familiar but wasn't there someone else there also?”

             
“Aye, lassie,” he answered sadly, “there was someone else there.”

             
She looked so pathetic at that moment he couldn't resist the temptation to take her in his arms and hold her as if he'd never let her go. She looked at him in wide-eyed surprise, but there was no resistance when he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. All the love in his heart poured into the kiss.

             
She smiled at him.“Why did you do that, Aidan?”

             
“Because I love you, lassie, and want you to be my girl. Will you?”

             
As if she didn't understand, she just smiled and turned away.

             
A few days later, the early evening brought dark skies with ominous clouds that heralded an approaching storm. Bridget appeared restless and unable to settle herself at any one thing.

             
Sitting down at the piano, she pounded out Rachmaninoff's “Prelude,” the strident chords matching her glum mood perfectly. Robert, never too far away from her, watched with deep concern.  Suddenly jumping up from the piano stool, she pressed both hands against her temples and said, “Oh, grandfather I have such a bad headache. Do you think there might be a storm brewing?”

             
“Aye, lassie, there's something in the air tonight, and if a storm does come, it will be a bad one.”

He put his arm about her shoulders. “Why don't you go lie down for a little while? If you can get some sleep, it will do you a world of good.”

              “All right, Robert, I'll try it. I don't seem to be much good for anything else at the moment.”

             
She went upstairs to her room. A fire was burning in the small grate, giving the area a cozy atmosphere. Upon removing her dress and shoes, she lay down on top of the bed, pulling a blanket robe over her to ward off a slight chill in the air.

             
She quickly drifted off to sleep but was just as quickly roused when the storm broke.     Listening to the fury of the elements all around her, she snuggled deeper into the covers as lightning, followed by bursts of thunder, flashed across the room. Hearing the pelting rain on the windows, she breathed a prayer of thankfulness for the safety and comfort of her home.

             
Then, suddenly in the midst of the tumult, she heard another sound: the crack of rockets. She bolted upright, knowing the sound could mean only one thing: a ship was in distress or already grounded on the rocks offshore.

             
“God, help those poor men out there,” she murmured to herself, then something flashed across her mind, and her thoughts flew to Aidan.

             
She heard or felt something telling her he was in great danger.  She wasn't sure what it was, but the certainty that he was at risk was so strong. The sound of bursting rockets came again. She sprang from the bed and hurriedly donned the dress and shoes. She raced downstairs with one thought in mind, to reach Aidan wherever he was.

             
“I've got to tell him now.” The words slipped out of her mouth. “He's got to know how I feel about him.”

             
Besse was at one of the windows peering out into the gloom. “Besse, Besse, where are the men? I've got to talk to Aidan.”

             
“Now, now, lassie, calm yourself down. They have both gone to the shore to see if they can be of any help. There is a cargo boat ashore on the rocks. The lifeboat has gone out to try and get the crew off her.”

             
“I know, Besse, I know, but there's something I have to tell Aidan before anything happens to him. I feel he is in grave danger, and I must see him. Oh, Besse if he should never come back...!”

             
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she headed for the east door.

             
“No no,” remonstrated Besse, “you can't go out in this foul weather and would only be in the way down there. They are doing men's work.”

             
She caught hold of Bridget's arm as she spoke, but there was no holding her. Bridget charged toward the door. Besse followed her, saying, “All right, Bridget but here put on this oilskin coat and hat.” She jammed the sou’wester down on top of Bridget's red curls before she dashed out the door as if the devil himself was after her.

             
Bridger was met by a violent gust of wind that almost took her breath away, but it was not enough to make her change her mind. No matter what, she was determined to find Aidan.

             
Buffeted unmercifully by the storm, she slowly reached the white fence that ran nearly all the way to the shore. She held onto it as she made her way forward against the wind, her progress now a little faster thanks to the support of the fence. When she heard the shouting of many voices and saw lanterns swinging in the dark, Bridget knew she was near her destination.

             
She picked up her pace and headed towards a group of men near the rock on the cove where she and Robert had walked so often. As she came closer, she realized her grandfather was one of the men.  She staggered over to him and caught hold of his arm. He turned around, disbelief in his eyes when he saw who it was.

             
“Bridget! What in heaven's name are you doing down here? You shouldn't be out of the house in a storm like this.”

             
“Robert, Robert,” she cried, “where is Aidan? I had a premonition he is in some kind of danger.  I must talk to him.”

             
Seeing how distraught she was, Robert put one arm across her shoulders and led her a little closer to the rock where a makeshift shelter had been erected. Bridget observed two men holding the ends of a cover over someone lying prone on the sand.

             
Robert pointed at the figure saying sadly, “There's Aidan, Bridget. James is desperately trying to bring him round. Our laddie almost drowned tonight.”

             
She tried to break away from her grandfather and go to Aidan, but he held her fast. “No, lass, not now, you would just be in the way. Leave the men free to do all they can for him.”

             
Tears and rain streamed down her face as she watched James Tosh give Aidan first aid. His huge hands rhythmically pressed on the lad's back just under his ribs, forcing the air in and out of his lungs.    As they watched, fear clutched at her heart. Finally, Aidan groaned and tried to move.

             
“Oh, God,” she breathed fervently, “give him back to us.”

             
Robert's voice broke in on her prayer, “Look now, lass, he's coming around. I will tell you later what happened, but now you run back to the house and get a big fire going in the parlor. Have Besse put the warming bottles in Aidan's bed. We'll be bringing him home shortly.”

             
“Oh, Robert are you sure?” she asked, anxiety consuming her. “You are not just trying to pacify me, are you?”

             
“No, lass, see for yourself he's starting to move on his own. Off you go now and do what I said.”

             
He smiled at her, nodding his head, and with a last longing look at Aidan, she hurried off to do Robert's bidding.

             
The winds now at her back propelled her toward the castle. Her head was in turmoil with all the different noises around her, winds howling, men shouting one to the other, and angry waves crashing on the shore, but Bridget was deliriously happy. Aidan was safe, and soon he would be home where she could tend to him.

             
With the support of a man on either side of him, Aidan was half carried, half dragged back to the castle. When his wet clothes had been removed by Robert, Bridget helped Besse hang them up near the parlor and kitchen fires after they had been run through the mangle to get some of the water out.

             
She could hear James Tosh and Robert talking encouragingly to Aidan and longed to be in the bedroom with them herself, so she too could do something to help the lad. But she knew her grandfather would not allow it at this point. She could almost hear him tell her that it wouldn't be proper for a young lady to do such a thing.

             
Rather viciously she poked the fire, heaping more coals upon it. 
Anything to keep busy,
she thought. Then, she heard the sound of retching coming from the water closet. Apparently the seawater Aidan had swallowed and the brandy that had been forced upon him had not been a good combination.

             
Besse came through from the kitchen and said, “Poor laddie, he sounds awfu' sick.”

             
“Besse, I wish I knew what's going on in there. Do you think we can go in now and see?”

             
“Here comes, James,” Besse answered,“let's see what he says. Is the laddie awright, James?”

             
“He's been through a bad experience, lassies, but I think he'll be fine when he gets good and warmed up.”

             
Bridget asked, “Is it all right for us to go in and see him now, James?”

             
“I think so, but let him sleep if he has a mind ta. Rest is the thing he needs the now.”

He smiled at them and added, “I'm going home to get into some dry clothes maself.”

              “Aye James ye better, afore ye catch yer death,” said Besse.

             
Bridget walked to the door with him thinking that the huge man looked utterly indestructible.

             
“Thank you, James, for all you've done this night,” she said in a quavering voice, “and haste ye back to see him.”

             
“Aye, lassie, I will that. I'm greatly concerned about the lad. Goodnight now and dinna worry.” He smiled as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

             
Locking the heavy door after he had gone, she came back into the parlor and found Besse was not there. Hearing excited voices from the direction of Aidan's bedroom, she hurried in there to see what was going on.

             
Consternation was on the faces of both Robert and Besse. Bridget saw that Aidan was trembling violently as if he were chilled to the bone. Besse had piled a mount of covers over him, but he still shivered from the cold.

             
“What can we do now, sir?” Besse asked. “We can't put any more covers on him, he could suffocate if we do.”

             
Bridget looked at the two scared faces. A plan was forming in her mind and she felt she knew exactly what Aidan needed.
I'll probably shock the two of them out of their minds, but I've got to try and help my laddie.