The Clan MacDougall Series (114 page)

“I failed them,” Nora managed to choke out. “They are ill because I couldn’t keep them safe.” Her shoulders began to shake and she could not hold the tears back any longer. “If they…” she could not say the word aloud, didn’t have the strength for it. She wiped her tears away with the backs of her hands. “There will be no one to blame but me.”

Father Michael had spoken with Isobel earlier that morning. It had been Isobel who had come to him first, to ask him to please pray for these children. She had told him all that she knew about the circumstances surrounding their arrival at Gregor.

Father Michael nodded his head and pursed his lips together. “I see. So ’twas ye that sent them to live at Firth?”

Nora’s eyes grew wide with horror at his suggestion. “Nay! I would never have sent them away!”

Another nod of his head. “That’s right. I believe Isobel told me ’twas yer late husband that did that.”

Nora blew her nose on a handkerchief and nodded her head.

“But ye were the one who would no’ let them come back to yer home, am I right?”

“Nay!” she’d done everything she could to get them out of Firth. “I tried to get them out, I did! But every time I ran away, Horace would find me and…” Her words trailed off. She didn’t want to think about the punishments he had meted out.

Father Michael took a step toward Nora. “Lass, none of this is yer fault. I’m sure ye did yer best to help them.”

“But I failed every time!” The tears came flooding back as Isobel and Mary walked into the room.

“Nora,” Isobel said as she walked to the end of Elise’s bed. “Please, take a walk with Father Michael. Mary and I will sit with John and Elise.”

“I can’t leave them,” Nora argued. The guilt she would feel if something happened while she stepped away would have been unbearable.

“Lass, ye need to step out of doors and take up some fresh air,” Mary offered from the corner of John’s bed. “’Twill do ye good to talk to Father Michael as well. He’s a verra good listener, lass.”

“But what if John or Elise wake?” Nora did not want to leave them, not even for a moment.

Isobel rubbed her hand along Nora’s back and reassured her. “I promise, if either of them wake, we’ll come to get ye. Ye’d be surprised how fast Mary can run if she needs to!”

For the first time in days, Nora allowed herself to not only smile, but laugh as well. She found the image of the old, round woman trying to run quite funny.

Nora looked at the three of them. They pleaded silently for her to listen to their advice. Mayhap a bit of fresh air would give her the boost of energy she needed to continue caring for John and Elise. Reluctantly she agreed to take a walk with Father Michael, but not before giving each child a soft kiss and murmuring words of encouragement. She looked back at the children whom she loved more than anything else in the world. Mayhap a bit more prayer would help. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

Nora had to admit that she felt better after taking the walk with Father Michael. She had been cooped up in the room for more than a week and was happy to find that spring had arrived, bringing with it an abundance of warm air and sunshine. She was glad to see green grass and blue skies but she noticed little else and paid little attention to her surroundings or the goings on as she and Father Michael walked.

As Mary had promised, Father Michael was indeed a very good listener. He said little and only asked an occasional question as Nora explained how she had come to marry Horace, the night when the small army of Highlanders came into her home, and how she ended up at Gregor.

Nora was riddled with guilt, for a variety of reasons. She felt guilty for wishing Horace dead to begin with, for failing as a wife, and for not being able to do more to stop him from sending the children away. She’d already had similar discussions with Isobel and Wee William and they’d done their best to convince her that her current circumstances were not of her own making and that the blame did not rest on her shoulders. The blame belonged solely with Horace.

Nora went on to explain in more detail what married life with Horace had been like. The beatings, the degradation she felt whenever he tried to invoke his husbandly right to join with her, and the numerous times she had tried to run away. Had he been at all kind or patient, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to run away. Had he shown even the slightest hint of owning a heart, she would have tried harder to be a better wife. But the constant ridicule, the harsh hands, the lack of decency he’d shown her was too much. Some people were beyond redemption. Father Michael was convinced Horace Crawford was one of those men.

The priest listened and the more he learned of her life, the more compassion and pity he began to feel for her. He knew his role as a priest was not to judge but to help heal wounded souls and to help people on their walk with the Lord. However, he was still a man, and by the time they had taken a third turn around the castle, he was convinced that Nora had been dealt a poor hand. He could not say that he blamed her for wanting out of her marriage or for not mourning the loss of her husband.

“It is a cruel life that many women are sometimes forced to endure,” he told her. “Some men forget that their wives are meant to be their partners, no’ their property, to do with however they please. I ken some men who treat their cattle and dogs better than they treat their wives. I do not believe that God intended women to be treated thusly, Nora. ’Tisn’t God’s will for women to suffer so. But men are men and they sometimes do no’ heed the word of God.”

Nora stopped and turned to look at him. “Do you think God will forgive me?” she asked him.

Father Michael smiled at her. He didn’t believe it should be Nora begging the good Lord’s forgiveness, but Horace. As a priest, he hoped the man had seen the errors of his ways and accepted Christ as his savior before he died. As a man, however, he hoped the whoreson was burning in hell. It was a fine line he sometimes had to walk, between being a priest and knowing he was a flawed man. That walk was not always an easy one.

“I do, Nora. I believe God kens what is in yer heart, better than I, and mayhap even better than
ye
do.” He patted her shoulder and offered her a warm smile. There were large circles under her eyes, brought on, he was sure, by lack of sleep and too much time alone to think. “God kens ye did yer best, lass. I ken it too.”

Nora let out a heavy sigh. “Even though I used to wish him dead?” How, she wondered, could God forgive her for such awful thoughts?

Father Michael laughed again. “Aye lass, even though ye wished him dead. Ye ken,” took her hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. “The Bible tells us that a man must love his wife as he would himself and God,” Father Michael said. “If what ye tell me about Horace’s treatment of ye is true—” he stopped her protests before they could start by giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I do not doubt that what ye tell me is true, Nora. My point is this: Horace did not treat ye in a manner that would make God proud or happy.”

Nora had never looked at it from that perspective. If Father Michael was correct, and she had no reason to believe that he wasn’t, then Horace was just as much to blame, if not more, for the abysmal failure of their marriage. Had Horace lived, Nora doubted very much that he would agree with anything Father Michael was saying. She would have been forever trapped in a marriage devoid of any kindness or gentleness.

“So what you’re telling me is that Horace was not acting in a manner that would please God and I should not blame myself for how
he
behaved.”

Father Michael nodded his head, his lips curving into a warm smile. “Aye, that is what I’m tellin’ ye. Ye have no control over how anyone behaves, lass. The only one ye can control is yerself.”

“And it is not a sin for me to be relieved at his death?” She wanted to make doubly certain she understood him correctly.

“Nay, I do no’ believe that to be a sin. I canna say that I blame ye fer feelin’ that way. I believe I might be feelin’ the same way were I walkin’ in yer footsteps.”

Nora’s shoulders sagged with relief and she let her breath out in a large whoosh. Another thought came to her and she felt nothing wrong in asking Father Michael about it. “Father, had Horace lived, do you think had I asked our priest for an annulment based on what we’ve just discussed, he would have granted it to me?”

The question was asked for any future need she may have of it. There was no guarantee that she wouldn’t end up marrying another man like Horace, for she believed the world was filled with such men. Men who would pretend to be nice, giving, and caring, but once the vows were taken, you saw their true natures.

However, if Wee William and the others were any proof, not all men behaved thusly. So far, not one had given her any inkling that they were pretending to be something other than what they were. Wee William and Daniel had spent much time with her the past sennight, helping her care for Elise and John. They would bring Nora meals and insist she eat. They would sit in quiet solitude, saying little, if anything for it was simply enough to be there for her if she needed something.

There was no guarantee that she would stay here for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, she had no idea what her future held. It might be useful to have such information for the future.

“Mayhap not all priests would look at it with the same perspective that I have, lass. But were ye to have come to me, aye, I would have granted an annulment to ye. Ye were married for a year, were ye no’.”

“Aye, just a week past one year,” she answered as she fought back a yawn. The fresh air was not energizing her as she had wished. She suddenly felt even more exhausted.

“And he was never able to get ye with child?” he asked, his eyebrows creased as if contemplating something of great importance.

Nora’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She did not feel comfortable talking with the priest about why she thought she had never become pregnant. “Nay, he was not.” There was no lie in her answer.

Father Michael nodded his head and patted her hand again. “Then aye, I would have given ye the annulment. Who is to say which of ye might be barren, but I would suspect that after a year of marriage, a woman should be with child.” Teasing her, he went on to ask, “Ye
did
consummate the marriage, did ye no’?”

She could do nothing to hide her discomfort at that topic. He was a man of the cloth for goodness sake. What could he possibly know of such things?

Father Michael threw his head back and laughed heartily at her red face and mortified expression. His laughter did nothing to ease her mortification; in fact, it only made her more uncomfortable.

“Lass, just because I be a man of the cloth, does no’ mean that I’ve no knowledge of what goes on between a man and woman!” His laughter eased into chuckling. “I was no’
always
a priest.”

She did not think it possible for her cheeks to burn brighter, but she knew they did with that bit of unsolicited information.

There was something in her silent countenance that made him wonder why she was so embarrassed by his question. Aye, most women would be embarrassed to discuss such things with any man, let alone a priest. But there was something there, under the reddened skin and sorrowful eyes that made him wonder. “Lass, ye
did
consummate yer marriage, didn’t ye?”

She mumbled her answer in such a soft tone that he had to repeat his question. Finally, Nora looked up at him, her skin still burning with shame, and answered it again.

“I’m not sure,” she whispered.

That was not the answer he expected to hear.

Father Michael had not lived a sheltered life. He’d only taken his vows within the past year. Prior to that, he’d traveled the world and experienced many things. He’d met many people, heard many stories, and had seen as much of the world as anyone of his age could. Not much surprised him about men or how they sometimes behaved. He thoroughly believed that his life experiences helped him to be a better priest in that he could relate to people on a more human level.

But he was ill prepared for the conversation that took place over the next half hour. By the time Nora was done explaining her situation to him, it was all he could do not to stand appalled with his mouth gaping open.

He stared at her for a time. Her eyes were focused on her toes while her fingers were busy with the hem of her arisaid.

He was at a loss for words for several long moments. He was quite certain that
now
he had heard it all and nothing else would ever surprise him. Feeling he needed to offer her some form of comfort, he took a deep breath and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Nora, ye needn’t feel ashamed of what happened. I believe yer late husband was a very flawed man, with problems that not even the Pope could have helped him with. I would have granted ye the annulment on those grounds alone, even if he had never laid a finger to ye or said an unkind word.”

She finally looked up at him. He felt she was too exhausted and embarrassed to discuss the matter further. Mayhap he should ask Isobel to have a talk with her regarding the intimacies between husband and wife.

“I’ll take ye back to John and Elise now,” he told her as he turned her back toward the entrance to the keep.

As they walked along, Nora remained quiet, hoping that everything Father Michael had told her was true. “Thank you, for taking the time to talk with me father.”

“Think nothing of it, Nora. If ye ever have need to speak with me again, ye can come see me at the kirk or send fer me.”

They walked back to John and Elise’s room in silence. Isobel informed them that there was no change in their condition and neither child had wakened during Nora’s absence. Father Michael said a prayer that God would give the children the strength they needed to help fight the illness that was plaguing their bodies before he quietly left the room.

As he walked back to the kirk, he prayed for Nora as well. The children would probably not survive beyond another day or two.