Authors: Lord of the Isles
She reached the hilltop, but it was another five minutes before
Creag na Corps
came into view and she saw Mariota sitting on the edge of the great rock.
As soon as she saw Cristina, she jumped to her feet.
“Mariota, I’m glad I found you,” Cristina said, drawing rein, her voice just loud enough for her sister to hear. “I know supper won’t be served until after Vespers, but everyone is already beginning to dress, and I—”
“I shan’t be hungry.”
“Nevertheless, my dear, you must come now. You know Father will be angry if we are late, and his grace will be annoyed, too, if you create a scene.”
“I shall not create a scene at supper,” Mariota said mildly, “for I shall not be there at all. Is that what you call what I’m doing?” she asked before Cristina could speak again. “Creating a scene?” As she spoke, she stepped onto the great flat rock and held her arms wide as if she were spreading wings. “Will it be just another scene if I step off this rock and plunge to my death?”
“Do not even speak of such a terrible thing,” Cristina begged. “You make my blood run cold. Come now, where is your horse?”
“I walked,” Mariota said curtly. “You see, Cristina, I do occasionally think of things other than myself, for all that you think I do not. I did not want some poor horse to wander off or starve waiting for someone to think of looking for it. Besides,” she added, “I knew you would bring one.”
These revealing words allowed Cristina to relax again for the first time since she had seen Mariota on the rock. “Then come with me now,” she said coaxingly. “I’ll pull you up behind me. It will be easy, standing on that rock as you are,” she added as she touched the palfrey with her knee.
“Stop where you are,” Mariota said as the palfrey stepped forward. “I’m not going to ride with you, Cristina.”
“This one is not as spirited as we like,” Cristina said, choosing to misunderstand her. “But she can easily carry us both, I promise you.”
“Don’t try to cozen me, for I know exactly how it is with you,” Mariota snapped. “You think you will walk into the hall and tell them all that I tried to kill myself but that you—the wonderful, capable Cristina—talked me out of it.”
“That is not at all what I would do, and you should know it.”
“I do know. I expect you told everyone you were coming to save me.”
“I told no one.”
“Then what is Isobel doing here?” Mariota demanded, pointing dramatically.
Startled as much by the sweeping gesture as by Mariota’s words, Cristina turned and saw her little sister just riding into view.
“You told Isobel yourself what you meant to do,” she reminded Mariota.
“I did no such thing,” Mariota said flatly. “As if I would make a gift of my intentions to a mere child.”
“Faith, then how do you suppose I knew to look for you up here?”
“I warrant you followed me,” Mariota said, tossing her head.
“Mariota, not a moment ago you accused me of telling everyone what you meant to do. If I knew to tell them, surely you must realize that I knew where to look for you before I came to find you.”
“Do not quibble, Cristina! You knew because you are always watching and spying on me, keeping note of my every movement and thought.”
“You know that is not true, my love,” Cristina said, striving for patience.
“I know naught of the sort. I know you would like me to believe otherwise, whilst you, in your evil way, persuade others to believe I am capable of doing quite utterly dreadful things. I cannot help it if men want to please me. They just do!”
“No, Mariota—please, my dear, you must be ill to say such things. Do you not recall that only a short time ago you were apologizing for causing that dreadful incident between Hector and Fergus Love? I should not have spoken so hastily or so angrily to you then, I know, and I beg your pardon for that. I know you meant no real harm. You are my sister, and I love you dearly.”
“I doubt that you even understand the meaning of love, Cristina. You are nothing but a mouse, uneducated in true emotion. You always think so logically, so coldly. I am not like you, thank heaven, so although you frequently insist that you understand me better than anyone else does, you do not know me at all.”
“But I do.”
“You don’t! You don’t understand anyone who thinks with her feelings rather than with her brain. I tell you and tell you, and you just say no one can do that, because you cannot. But I can, Cristina, and I do. You think you are superior to me and that I should be like you, but I don’t want to be like you, because Hector loves me as I am, and I love him. That’s why I’m sorry, Cristina, because you tricked yourself into a loveless marriage, and for as long as I live, that is all it will be. That is the true picture, the one you refuse to allow your logical mind to see.”
“That is
not
true,” Isobel declared loudly.
Cristina jumped at the sound of the child’s voice so near. So intently had she been watching and listening to Mariota, and fighting the unhappily familiar sense of her brain spinning in her head, that she had not heard Isobel dismount and approach.
I
sobel, you should not have followed me,” Cristina said quietly. “I am quite vexed with you, and I want you to leave now before you upset her further.”
“Aunt Euphemia said I should keep my eye on you,” Isobel said.
“She did not mean you should follow me everywhere I go, and even if you suppose she did mean that, you will do as I bid now and go back at once.”
“I’ll strive to hold my tongue, but I won’t leave,” Isobel said firmly.
Cristina sighed. Arguing with her little sister would do nothing to aid the situation and could do much to worsen it if Mariota took further offense.
Turing her back on Isobel, she gently urged the palfrey nearer, encouraged when Mariota made no objection. Behind her, Isobel remained mercifully silent.
“Stop there,” Mariota commanded. “I do not know what you hope to accomplish, Cristina, because I won’t go back with you. If I did, people would say I didn’t mean what I said, and I won’t have that. They’ll see how things are after I fling myself to the wind and they see how desolated Hector Reaganach is. I can hardly wait to hear what they say to you then!”
“Dear heart, how do you imagine you will hear anything if you throw yourself off this dreadful cliff?”
“I’ll know,” Mariota said confidently. “I know just how it will be, too. People who are jealous of me now will pretend to be sad, and people who never liked me will pretend to have been my dearest friends.”
“I cannot think why you would imagine such things,” Cristina said sadly.
“Because it is how she would behave if someone she didn’t like jumped off a cliff,” Isobel said. “She would display only the emotions she wanted other people to see, the ones she believes would make them think how thoughtful and kind she is.”
“That will do, Isobel,” Cristina said, suppressing her realization that the child had undoubtedly described Mariota’s state of mind exactly.
“Sorry,” Isobel muttered.
Mariota shot her younger sister a look of dislike. “I expect you think you are wiser than Solomon, but you do not know the first thing about anything, and I wish you would leave. No one wants you here.”
“I warrant
you
do not, but I am staying.”
“I’m sure I don’t care what you do, but if Cristina means to try to persuade me to go back down to Ardtornish, I’d as lief she get down and talk to me privately without any more impertinence from you.”
“Don’t do it, Cristina,” Isobel warned. “Stay on your horse.”
“Hush, Isobel. You are not helping.”
“Oh, but she is,” Mariota said almost merrily. “I am quite amused by her, I promise you. You foolish child, do you imagine that I would hurt Cristina?”
“She does not imagine anything of the kind,” Cristina said before Isobel could speak her thoughts aloud. Slipping down from the palfrey, she kept a firm grasp on its reins so it could not wander off.
“Why don’t you let Isobel hold your horse,” Mariota suggested. “If she is going to stay, she might as well be useful.”
“Very well,” Cristina said, turning to hand the reins to the child. Giving her a minatory look as she did, she said quietly, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, or by heaven, I will ask Father to lock you in your bedchamber for a month.”
Grimacing, Isobel nodded.
Cristina turned back toward the great rock, feeling more relaxed, certain now that Mariota had no intention of ending her life. Although she would have liked to shake her for her wickedness in scaring them as she had, and half hoped that Hector would scold her or worse, she wanted to do nothing more now to upset her.
“You gave me such a scare,” she said gently as she approached her. “Truly, my dear, you deserve that I should be angry with you.”
“Just look at the view from here, Cristina,” Mariota said as she turned with another sweeping gesture to face the bay and the Sound beyond it. “See how the sun sparkles on the water. It looks like molten gold. And the clouds drifting yonder,” she added with a further sweep to the west. “See how white they are.”
“It is a beautiful afternoon,” Cristina agreed. “But it will be dusk before too long, and everyone will wonder where we are. We must return straightaway.”
“In a few minutes.” Her voice was more subdued. “Come up here with me. It feels as if I’m on top of the word, standing here. I want you to know how it feels.”
Ignoring a prickling sensation at the back of her neck at the thought of standing so near the edge, determined not to give Mariota the satisfaction of knowing that the great height frightened her, Cristina stepped onto the rock. She expected to hear Isobel shout to stay where she was, but the child remained silent.
The edge was too close, but Cristina knew that she must not show her fear, because Mariota delighted in proving herself braver than anyone else and might well do something even more dangerous.
“Isn’t it glorious?” Mariota said, gazing out at the view. “You can see Duart Castle from here.”
Cristina swallowed hard. Her knees felt weak, even with Mariota standing between her and the edge. She wanted to tell her to step back, but she was afraid her voice would not work properly.
A gust of wind stirred leaves and grass, making them rustle behind her.
“That breeze is growing stronger,” she said, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt. “We really should go.”
“In a moment we will, but come closer first and look down,” Mariota said, turning slightly to take hold of her right arm. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not.” Her grasp was gentle, her voice likewise.
When Cristina stiffened, the grip on her arm tightened. “You’re afraid, I can tell you are,” Mariota said.
“No, I just—”
“Why, you’re as tense as can be, but you must put your fears aside lest everyone know you for a coward. Here, come right to the edge. I promise, if you fall, I’ll tell everyone you did so trying to save me,” she added with a chuckle.
“What a thing to say!” Cristina exclaimed, trying to free her arm from Mariota’s grip.
“Silly, I was just teasing. Just come a tiny bit closer.”
“No, Mariota, please. You are much braver than I am, and so I will tell anyone you like, but I do
not
want to stand any nearer to the edge.”
“I said, come!” She pulled hard.
Cristina dug in her heels. “Let go,” she said. “I don’t like this game.”
“It is no game,” Mariota said, and her tone was no longer cheerful or teasing. It held a grim, threatening note, and fear swept through Cristina as she struggled to free herself.
“Please let go, Mariota.” Striving for calm, Cristina found herself fighting terror instead. “What can you possibly prove by forcing me to the edge?”
“I have nothing to prove, Cristina, but likewise ’tis not I who should fling herself to the wind. You are the one trapped in the loveless marriage.”
“That’s not so!”
“Think how neatly everything will resolve itself if you just step off this rock,” Mariota went on as if Cristina had not spoken. “Then Hector will marry me, and we’ll live happily ever after.”
“Hector does not love you, Mariota, nor do you love him. You just want him because he married me. You did not want him at all until then.”
“I did not see until then how you and Father had tricked me,” Mariota said.
“Let go!” Cristina cried, trying again to wrench free of the viselike grip.
“Just step over the edge, and everything will be as it should be,” Mariota said, her matter-of-fact tone more terrifying than her bruising grip.
“
No!
” Isobel shrieked.
Suddenly she was beside them, pulling Cristina back and kicking Mariota.
“Get back from the edge!” Cristina screamed.
“Let her go, Mariota!” Isobel shouted. “What are you thinking? Would you have everyone know you for a murderess?”
“Go away, Isobel,” Mariota said in that strange, unemotional tone as she dragged Cristina inexorably nearer the edge. “I told you, no one wants you here.”
Gathering all her strength, Cristina yanked hard, freeing her arm just as Isobel shoved Mariota.
Stumbling, Mariota grabbed the child, and before Cristina’s helpless, horrified gaze, they went over the edge together.
Hector strode from the castle toward the barn. Having expected to find Cristina in his bedchamber preparing to depart on the afternoon tide, he had discovered an empty room instead. Even her clothing and maid were gone, but he knew the longboat had not left, because his captain had told him as much, and the tide would soon be on the turn.
Fearing that she might have gone off alone again, might even have decided to defy his orders and stay, he decided to find her and bring her back. She would leave Ardtornish if only as far as Duart, even if his oarsmen had to row her there against the tide. And he would go with her, at least overnight, if only to tell her that the business at Coll had proved as much a mystery as ever, that he had found the man Kinven, only to learn that he’d merely repeated what he had heard from someone else. That Mackinnon had stirred rumors to make mischief, he was sure, but short of tracking down every man who had repeated them, the chance of proving it was nil. As to why, he could not guess, unless for another diversion.