Authors: Liz Curtis Higgs
Jamie froze. “All of it?”
Oh, lass
.
Leana hid her face, bright with shame. “I thought Rose … I was sure …”
“ ’Tis not my fault!” Rose cried. “I told them almost nothing!”
“I told them everything.” Leana turned to look at them both, her cheeks still red but her voice stronger. “I had to speak the truth, no matter what else was said in that room. ’Twas Almighty God I wanted to honor, not myself. But I did not mean to hurt you, dear Jamie.” She touched his face with a shaking hand. “Please … please forgive me …”
“Nae, Leana.” He held a finger to her lips. “You did what was right. There is nothing to forgive.”
“What of me?” Rose’s voice was taut. “Am I forgiven as well?”
Leana stepped closer, her hands held out in mute appeal. “ ’Tis
your
forgiveness I must have, Rose. Yours above all, for you are the one I wronged most.” She bent toward her sister’s cloak, her delicate fingers fluttering over the green folds. “Will you forgive me, Rose? With all your heart, not just words. Please?”
Jamie’s hands clenched as each second went by without a response.
Say something, Rose. After all you’ve done, do not punish her like this
.
“You have a right to be angry, Rose, to feel cheated.” Leana knelt at her sister’s feet, spreading her skirts across the floor. “The kirk session will take their pound of flesh, of that I have no doubt. What I ask of you is a greater sacrifice, Rose. ’Tis mercy.” She rested her white silk gloves on Rose’s cotton ones, covering the stain. “Have you any mercy to give me, dear Rose?”
“You may have your mercy, Leana.” Rose looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “If I may have my Jamie.”
“Och!” He nearly spit on the floor. “I am not a trinket in some packman’s sack, bought for a penny. You will ne’er have my heart, even if you manage to claim the rest.”
Leana’s shoulders sagged. “The elders will decide who Jamie’s wife will be. Perhaps they’ve already done so.” She stood once more, less steady on her feet this time. “Rose, even though you cannot forgive me, I forgive you. For whatever you said in that room tonight, true or false. For all you’ve done since the wedding day. None of it matters now.”
A sharp wind blew through the open front door.
Lachlan McBride’s voice carried down the hall. “So we’re done with things, are we?” He scowled at them as he crossed the threshold, then shut the door with a resounding bang. “Your bairn is greeting for his
supper, Leana. ’Tis long past time you were home, all three of you. Surely you’re finished here.” Lachlan strode past them, then knocked on the dining room door before anyone could stop him.
The door swung open, and Reverend Gordon stepped out. He was taller than Lachlan McBride and at the moment more perturbed. Looming over the bonnet laird, the minister said curtly, “You were not summoned to this evening’s proceedings, Mr. McBride. What business do you have here?”
“Merely collecting my family, Reverend, for the hour is late.” He peered over the minister’s shoulder, rising on his toes to do so. “Shouldn’t your elders be about their rounds, making certain that all in the village are home where they belong and not loitering about the streets?”
Reverend Gordon consulted his pocket watch, though Jamie suspected it was more to curb his temper than to learn the time. “Shortly but not yet. Since you are here, and we have made our decision, I suppose you may join us.” The minister pointed a finger between his uncle’s gray eyes. “But you’ll not speak unless spoken to, nor offer an opinion. Is that understood?”
“Aye,” Lachlan said gruffly, stepping back from the menacing digit. “Follow me, Jamie, and bring your women. Pray you’ll not lose one of them to the
cutty stool
before this night ends.”
Please God, may it not be so
. Jamie led Leana into the room, with Rose trailing along behind them. Seats were taken amid much scraping of chairs. The fire had died down, yet the air was warmer than ever. Seated between the sisters, Jamie prayed for strength. And aye, for mercy, though ’Twas too late for that now, for the elders had set their course. Their hands were folded on top of their numerous papers. The session clerk had put down his pen, his finger resting on a particular entry, the last on the page. All eyes turned toward Reverend Gordon, who stood at the head of the table, his imposing form outlined by the light of the fire.
“We have been presented with a most difficult task this evening, yet one we are ever charged with as parish leaders: to uphold God’s law.” He nodded at his elders, and they responded in kind. “What began as a
simple clerical error has grown to a moral issue of grave significance. In all my years in the pulpit, I’ve ne’er seen its match. When emotions are put aside, however, ’Tis a clearer case than one might first imagine.”
The minister glanced at his notes and then at Rose. “On behalf of the elders, for my vote counts no more than theirs, I will present to each one of you in turn our decisions. Rose, you are first.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie noticed her sitting up straighter, a look of expectation on her face.
Nae, Rose. Do not wish for this, for I cannot love you again
.
“We find that Rose McBride—or should I say, Mistress McKie—is innocent in every regard.”
Rose gasped aloud, her eyes and mouth widening.
Jamie gripped the arms of the chair so hard he feared the wood might crack.
Not Rose. She cannot be my wife
.
Reverend Gordon continued as though reading a market list. “Though you’ve waited a long time to be pronounced Mistress McKie, you must wait a bit longer to claim your husband. However, by law, you already have a legal right to his name and his property. And soon, his person.”
Jamie watched in despair as Leana slid her wedding ring off her finger and quietly placed the silver band before her sister, who stared at it for a moment, then slipped it on.
Nae. This cannot be right
.
He grasped Leana’s hand under the table, but it was limp, and she did not squeeze back.
Oh, Leana. ’Tis not over. Do not despair
.
“Mr. McKie, we have a decision for you as well.”
He looked up but did not acknowledge the man. Hadn’t his life already been decided for him?
Not for. Against
.
The minister’s pronouncement was matter-of-fact. “Leana has attested that you meant to wed Rose and not her. Since you were deceived at the outset—entrapped, as it were, by your cousin Leana—we will not hold you accountable for your remarks to this kirk session regarding your relationship with her.”
“They were not remarks,” Jamie corrected him through clenched teeth. “They were the truth. I love her.”
He held up his hand, stemming his words. “Aye, so we’ve heard. That you have come to cherish Leana is both admirable and regrettable but does not change the facts of the case. We have concluded that you were merely trying to protect her. An honorable effort and therefore not to be held against you.”
Were they not listening? Did they not hear him? Jamie spoke more forcefully. “ ’Twas not an effort, Reverend Gordon. Leana is my wife.”
“
Was
, Jamie. Leana
was
your wife but is no more.”
“But she—”
“The law of the kirk recognizes Rose as your wife
per verba de praesenti
. Leana’s claim of habit and repute came after her sister’s, and therefore is invalid.” Reverend Gordon shrugged his shoulders. “You cannot be married to both women, Jamie. ’Tis against the law of God and society.”
The room seemed to shift, as though nothing were nailed in place. Jamie heard the minister speaking, yet the man made no sense.
Per verba
, he’d said. By
whose
words? And
what
words? If he’d broken the law, then he would pay the price. Jamie looked up and prayed the ground beneath his feet would stop moving. “What is my punishment then?”
“You do your cousin Rose an injustice, sir.” Henry Murdoch glared at him from across the table. “You once chose her, loved her, pursued her, and labored for her hand in marriage. Most men would not consider marriage to such a woman punishment.”
Jamie sank in his chair. “I am not most men.”
I am the least of men
. The room had stopped spinning, but his stomach had only begun.
Reverend Gordon leaned across the table, his voice lower. “Understand this, Jamie: Had the circumstances been different, we would have charged you with adultery. Had you told us that you chose Leana for your wife on your wedding night, having spoken the vows to Rose, our only recourse would have been to punish you both. But …”—he straightened, holding his hands out—“as you were deceived, our decision of innocence stands.”
Innocent?
Jamie knew he was guilty in every regard. For hurting Leana and loving Rose. For loving Leana and now hurting her again.
For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all
.
“I am not innocent,” he declared, standing to his feet. “I am guilty.” He said it again, with more force. “I am
guilty
. Leana is not the deceiver here …
I
am. I deceived my father. I deceived my brother. Worse of all, I deceived myself into thinking I loved a bonny lass who loves no one but herself.”
“Jamie!” Rose cried.
He did not look at her. He looked only at Leana. “Please … please forgive me.”
Her eyes held no judgment. “You are already forgiven, Jamie.”
Henry Murdoch pounded on his notes. “If there is forgiveness and mercy to be extended in this room, it must come from this side of the table.”
“Nae, sir.” Jamie looked at Henry but did not quite see him for the tears that stung his eyes. “ ’Twas not your mercy I required, gentlemen, but Leana’s.” He gazed down at her, speaking to her with his eyes, knowing she would hear him.
I will never leave you
.
Her pale blue eyes spoke in return.
I will always love you
.
“Well then.” Millar, the clerk, tapped at his record book. “Since Leana seems to have forgiven you, you are a free man, James McKie.”
He looked away as Rose reached for his hand. “I am anything but free, sir.”
Forty-Four
Misfortune had conquered her,
how true it is.
M
ADAME DE
S
TAËL
T
he truth had made her free, but it was the one freedom Leana did not want: a life without Jamie. Leana knew the elders would find her guilty. Guilty of loving Jamie. And guilty of being a woman who deceived men.
Cursed be the deceiver
.
“Leana?” Reverend Gordon’s voice. Gentle, not harsh, yet firm. “ ’Tis time we addressed you.”
She lifted her head. The room grew very still. Even the hearth seemed to hold its fiery breath.
“Leana McBride, on behalf of the kirk session of Newabbey parish, it is my unfortunate duty to pronounce judgment on your sin. Are you prepared to receive our word on the matter?”
“Aye, for the word of the Lord is right.” She drew herself up, as if she were about to be lashed to a stake. “I am ready.”
“Let us begin by clearly stating the nature of your transgression.” The minister held his notes close to his spectacles, reading them aloud as though they were someone else’s words and not his. “On the night of 31 December 1788, did you willfully take this man, James McKie, as your husband by a deliberate act of deception?”
Willfully. Deliberately. Deceptively
. Was that the way of it?
Nae, but it was the look of it
. “I did not identify myself by name when I went to Jamie. And so, aye … he was deceived.”
Reverend Gordon continued, “Having then deceived Mr. McKie, you forced him to commit adultery without either his knowledge or his consent.”
Adultery?
“But I thought Jamie was not—”
“He is not being charged, Leana.” The minister’s stern brow appeared above his handful of papers. “We’ve already determined that.”
“Good, good.” She was ever aware of Jamie’s presence beside her. “I could not bear for him to suffer on my account.”
Jamie’s hand reached for hers beneath the table. She could not look at him, or she would be undone.
Thou art my strength
.
Reverend Gordon shook his paper, calling her attention back to the matter at hand. “Though you did not intentionally impersonate your sister, that was the upshot of things. Is that correct, Leana?”
“Aye. In the dark Jamie thought I was Rose.”
“But you knew that you were not married to this man.”
“I knew,” she whispered.
“And yet, knowing Jamie was not your husband, you … you engaged in …”
“Aye.” She hung her head. “I did.”
“You are therefore charged by this kirk session with
hochmagandy—
”
“
Nae!
” Jamie shot to his feet, even as Leana’s heart gave way, like a sand dune crushed beneath a great wave.
“Sit down, Mr. McKie, or leave the room.”
“ ’Tis not right.” Jamie threw himself into his chair, shaking with anger, muttering under his breath. “ ’Tis not fair.”
Reverend Gordon, ignoring him, continued. “Paul’s letter to the church at Corinth speaks against this detestable sin: ‘Now the body is not for fornication, but for the Lord.’ Do you agree, Leana, and commit your body to the Lord and his care alone?”
She nodded.
In him will I trust
.
“I’m sorry, lass, but you must respond verbally. Do you repent of your sin?”
Leana lowered her eyes, though her voice did not falter. “I do repent. I am truly sorry.”
For godly sorrow worketh repentance
.
She looked up, not at Reverend Gordon, but at her beloved Jamie. He must understand, he must know without a doubt what she was saying and what she was thinking.
I am sorry I deceived you. But I am not sorry I love you
.
The words in his eyes were a mirror of her own.
I love you still
. They kept their gazes locked as her sentence was read.