Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance (44 page)

Taking one last look around, Jesslyn had no choice but to slowly trail behind him. They’d walked a few moments in silence when she asked, “What of the coins you’ve been giving Alleck? Where did you get them? Lady Maclean said that her son had some similar ones when he returned from the crusades.”

“They are from my mother’s homeland. I got them upon my father’s death.” Unwilling to reveal more, Bao hastily turned the subject a bit. “Your son is generous and has a keen mind. Tho’ he was quite downcast and solitary when I first saw him by the loch. ‘Twas the reason I left him the coin. I thought to cheer him by giving him some unusual trinket, knowing that ‘twould draw other lads to him.”

Her voice was soft and warm when she replied, “Aye, the coin certainly has made him a favorite amongst the lads in the village. My thanks to you for your gift.”

Bao looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. “‘Tis glad I am that it garnered the results I desired.” He turned back and solemnly continued the trek.

They spoke no further the remainder of their journey back to the clearing.

*

It seemed to Jesslyn that the course was much easier and quicker on the return and they arrived with plenty of time to spare before the sun began to set.

Just inside the exit into the glen, they stopped and faced each other.

Jesslyn allowed her gaze to wander over Bao’s face. “Goodbye, then,” she said at last, “and fare you well. For I shall not be seeing you again until you come to the keep.”

“Aye, fare you well.” Bao lifted his hand to touch her cheek, but evidently thinking better of it, dropped it once more to his side without making contact. He whirled on his heel and strode back into the dim forest.

Jesslyn stayed until he’d completely disappeared from view and then turned towards her home, her thoughts, scattered and her emotions, raw. So much had happened and been revealed to her that day. But one thing was clear to her: She would return to the waterfall on her own as soon as she was able and she would see her husband again. Of this, she was certain.

The Horse Marshal

“If it will feed nothing else it will feed my revenge.”

The Merchant of Venice (Act III, scene i)

“The iron bit he crushes ‘tween his teeth,

Controlling what he was controlled with.”

Venus and Adonis (274-81)

Jesslyn walked with Callum up to the keep. A sennight had passed since her visit to the waterfall and she was growing anxious to make another journey there. Unfortunately, her betrothed had gotten it in his head to move them to his MacGregor kin’s holding and he would not let go of the notion. He’d visited her several times each day with some new enticement to change her mind, making it impossible to leave the village without raising questions of her whereabouts. Jesslyn tried once more to reason with him. “I think it not a good idea to move Alleck again so soon. He’s only just settled in here at the Maclean holding and he adores your grandmother. And I’m not ready to make such a change this early, either.”

“My sweet, can you not see that our presence is unnecessary here? That I am needed urgently at the MacGregor holding, as evidenced by the missive I received this morn from my uncle—stepfather—begging my assistance? There are duties that the MacGregors need me to perform for them and I should hasten to answer that request. I feel duty-bound to do so.”

Jesslyn worried her bottom lip with her teeth. This was Callum’s newest ploy, and ‘twas a good one. She was having trouble finding good reasons to convince him to avoid his duty to his father’s clan. In all honesty, Jesslyn had begun to doubt her decision to wed him. Even tho’ he had become a dear friend to her, and Alleck was slowly warming to him, the passionless kiss they’d shared a few days past concerned her greatly. Especially when compared to the heated embrace she’d shared in the wood with the black-haired warrior—who, she was ashamed to admit, had been invading her thoughts, and swaying her purpose as well. Jesslyn came to an abrupt halt.

Callum broke stride and turned, giving her a questioning look.

Taking both of his hands in her own, she straightened her spine and forced the words past her lips. “Callum, I have thought on this these past days and I have decided to break our betrothal.”

Callum’s eyes widened. “What?” He tried to pull his hands free.

She would not let them go. “‘Tis truth, we love each other not, so this cannot be so very painful for you.”

“Nay, I’m more stunned than hurt. Why have you changed your mind? Is it the prospect of leaving this place?”

“Aye—but ‘tis not the full of it. You know this is not working—for either one of us. You should go to the MacGregor holding, as you have said you must, but you must do it without Alleck and me.”

*

Callum turned and walked a few paces away, his thoughts in turmoil. After a moment, a sense of relief filled him. Jesslyn had had the courage to admit their mistake, where he had not. For the past days had been very revealing to him. Tho’ he liked and admired Jesslyn, he’d only recently begun to realize that they were not well matched in temperament. Why, only a few days past, he’d tried deepening one of the rather chaste kisses he’d given her and she’d grown cold and rigid in his arms. That had worried him. For, tho’ they might not love each other, he was a man like any other. He had needs that he expected his wife to fulfill, with passion, if not love. Besides, he wanted a houseful of bairns. How was he to accomplish that, if there was no enjoyment in the making of them? He turned back to her then and, nodding his head, he at last replied, “Aye, you are right. ‘Tis for the best that we break the betrothal.” He moved toward her. Placing a hand on her cheek, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the other. “My thanks to you for your wisdom and your courage to say what I would not.”

As he began to straighten, Jesslyn turned her head and kissed his cheek as well, a relieved smile on her face matching his own. “We are friends? Say we are still friends.”

“Aye, we are still friends, fair Jesslyn.”

*

Callum departed for the MacGregor holding the next day, heart-sore for Maryn but looking toward the future. For ‘twas time and past for him to find his place in the world and, tho’ it had been hard to say farewell to the Maclean clan and especially his beloved grandmother, he knew his destiny lay with his MacGregor kin.

*

“‘Tis for the best, Lady Maclean.” Jesslyn nervously fidgeted with the small strip of linen that Maryn had so graciously tied around her needle-punctured finger as she watched the older woman make a knot at the end of a length of thread. “It became clear the longer we knew each other that we were suited more as friends than as a wedded pair.” Lady Maclean and Maryn had finally allowed Jesslyn a reprieve from the task of sewing shirts for the babe after she’d bloodied one of them to a point where it now was in the rag pile.

Not looking up from her rapidly moving fingers, Lady Maclean replied, “Aye, I wondered when you would come to that conclusion. I worried for a time that ‘twould be after you’d wed before you realized the mismatch. Tho’, in looks, the two of you were quite well together.”

Maryn folded another of the finished garments and placed it in the basket at her feet. “I’d just gotten used to the idea of the two of you as a couple and now ‘tis done with, and Callum has left for good. My head spins with all these sudden changes.”

Lifting her gaze to the window, Jesslyn looked out at the position of the sun and decided she should get back to her chores if she was going to complete them by the time her son came home. “I’m glad you understand and support my decision to break the betrothal. ‘Twould not please me to cause you grief or vexation.” Rising to her feet, she said, “I must fly. I’ve work to do before my son returns.”

At the door, she turned back to the two ladies. “My apologies for ruining the fine cloth, Maryn. Mayhap I can repay you with a raspberry tart? I could bring it to you this eve, if you like—and for you as well, Lady Maclean.”

“Aye, we’d enjoy that,” Maryn said.

*

After the door closed behind Jesslyn, Lady Maclean spoke. “Callum took the glad tidings of your coming babe very hard. He has had tender feelings for you for almost as long as he’s known you, and he was already hurt by your father’s rejection of his suit to you and then your subsequent marriage to his cousin.”

Biting her lip and repositioning herself on her stool, Maryn replied, “I had no idea his feelings ran so deeply for me. Even when he tried the blackmail scheme with my papa. Oh, he did confess once to care for me, but, ‘tis truth, he’s always been so extravagant in his attentions to all the ladies that I could not take him seriously. Besides, he was rather sotted on
uisge beatha
at the time.”

Lady Maclean nodded her head. “Aye, but he truly did want to wed you, even tho’ his means of attaining his ends were not noble.” She sighed as she closed off the final stitch in one portion of the piece of linen. “He was spoiled by us all as he grew. He’s always been such a fine-looking lad and the lasses always did swarm around him. He’s had very little experience with rejection and he’s had more than his share in these past moons. Rejected both by his clan and his secret love.”

“Oh, Grandmother Maclean, when you put it in those words, I feel so sorry for my part in his despair. I counted him as a friend for many years, at least until I became so vexed with his careless attitude regarding his duties here. But I believed we’d mended our friendship these past sennights.” Maryn sighed, recalling her words to him by Fia’s stall that day he’d shown her the cave. “Tho’ I was a bit cruel to him when he first arrived back, I think.” Maryn rested the unfinished shirt she was working on in her lap and looked at her mentor.

“He is not completely blameless in his sorrow, my dear. As you said, he tried to force a marriage on you through blackmail. Foolish and spoiled, he was, to try and attempt such a thing.” Lifting the linen up to the beam of light coming through the window behind her, Lady Maclean continued working as she talked. “Nay, this was a good lesson for him; he’ll grow stronger for it. He’s already shown much more maturity in the past moons since your father thwarted his scheme by finding a different course to take.”

Worrying her lower lip, Maryn asked, “Think you that Daniel is aware of Callum’s regard for me? I know my husband’s feelings for his cousin are mixed. He certainly admires his skill on the training field, but he thinks him shallow and irresponsible. ‘Tis the reason he forced the six-moon betrothal.”

“Which turned out to be a very wise move, you must admit. I think Daniel has his suspicions about Callum’s feelings for you, but I believe he has no certitude,” Lady Maclean replied.

Maryn sighed, worried now about Callum and his bruised heart and hoping he’d find someone perfect for him, just as Daniel was perfect for her. Placing her hand over her stomach, she turned the subject. “When will I feel my babe move? Will it be soon?”

“I’d say you should feel your babe quicken in just a few more sennights, mayhap only a fortnight. How are your morning miseries? Do you still suffer a great deal?”

“Aye, tho’ the ginger Daniel gives me works well to counter them.”

“You’ll feel better after the babe quickens. You’ll have more energy as well. That should also be near to a moon prior to your father’s visit.” Lady Maclean smiled. “I’m going to enjoy watching him strut around here; he’ll be such a proud grandpapa.”

Maryn laughed at the image Lady Maclean gave her. “Aye, that he will certainly be.” Lifting the shirt from her lap, Maryn began sewing again.

*

Clyde Ramsey looked around, searching the vicinity for any who might unknowingly have invaded his camp. Seeing that the area was deserted, he hid his oil-cloth blanket and rations behind the juniper bush growing against the partially tumbled-down limestone and mortar wall of the ancient Roman outpost he slept in each night. The roof was long a thing of the past, as well as the door, but there were three good walls still fully intact. ‘Twas not very large; his head and toes almost reached the walls when he was lying on his back and he could touch the stone on either side when he stretched his arms out wide. There was no floor, only overgrown earth, which he’d beaten down with his weight. He’d been using the lodge since his banishment, though none knew of his presence but his sister.