Lord of the Black Isle (27 page)

Look from thy window and see my passion and my pain;

I lie on the sands below, and I faint in thy disdain,

Let the night winds touch thy brow with the heat of my burning sigh

And melt thee to hear the vow of a love that shall not die

Till the sun grows cold, and the stars grow old,

And the leaves of the judgment Book unfold.

—“Bedouin Song” (1872)

Bayard Taylor (1825–1878)

Three days later, the sister of Angus MacLean arrived late in the afternoon. She was the same sister who was married to David's uncle, although she preferred life in a convent over marriage, and had come to Duart Castle to visit. Elisabeth was surprised to see she wore a pale blue habit, very much like the one Elisabeth had worn at St. Leonard's.

The castle help was bustling about, for Angus was in high spirits over the blossoming romance between Elisabeth and Fergus, and now his dear sister was here, so he ordered the preparation for a grand celebration and splendid meal to be served in the great hall.

In her room, Elisabeth was trying to decide what dress to wear, for her heart was not in it and she did not feel like faking a romance with Fergus any more than Fergus did, but as she told him, one has to do what one has to do.

She was about to remove her clothing when someone knocked at her door. She was astounded when she opened it and Fergus was there. He slipped into the room before she could ask him what he wanted.

He handed her a pouch. “Put this on, and be verra sure you put the cloak on.”

She was stunned and had no idea why he was asking her to put something on with a cloak, but before she could ask, he answered the question for her.

“As ye ken, my aunt is here, so I took the liberty of borrowing one of her habits and I took her cloak. Tonight is the perfect time for us to leave, while all the festivities are beginning and everyone will be in the great hall. If they miss us, at first they will think we ha' slipped off to be alone. I pray that we can put enough distance between us by the time they discover we are gone.”

“But they will know your aunt wouldn't leave so soon after her arrival and on the night of a big feast for her.”

“I will tell the guards that ye wish to visit the graves of my MacLean ancestors, so that ye might pray for their souls before tonight's feast.”

She gave him a hug and said, “Fergus MacLean, besides being a knight beyond compare, you are a genius!”

Mel Gibson couldn't have produced a better script for a castle escape, if he had the original cast of
Braveheart
and
Robin
Hood
put together, for everything went off without a hitch. They chose to leave just before the banquet began, when all the help was in the great hall and the guests were dressing for the evening. Elisabeth was to bring his aunt's hooded, convent cloak in the pouch and wear her own cloak to cover the blue habit, in case she met anyone while leaving her room. They would then meet in the outer bailey, behind the stable, where he would be waiting with the horses. There, she would remove her own cloak and put on his aunt's, and he would escort her through the castle gate.

It was perfectly scripted and acted, and even the castle guards at the gate did their part, and the two of them were through the gates and on their way before the first guest arrived in the great hall. Once they were well away from the castle and out of sight of anyone who might be on the parapet walls, they broke into a steady lope, which the horses could maintain for a longer distance than they could if at a full run.

She had to hand it to Fergus, for he had it planned well. Cunning knight as he was, he did not take the customary trails one would use to go to Màrrach Castle but a different route that was longer, but not one Angus would expect them to take, since speed would be of the essence. They rode all night and the next day, stopping at intervals to rest the horses and exchange mounts, for Fergus in his mail was much heavier than Elisabeth, so his horse would be tired before hers. He was pleased to know she had been raised around horses and was an accomplished rider, for riding a trained war horse was not something most women would tackle.

They arrived at Màrrach after midnight, and when they entered the castle, the steward informed them that Lord Kinloss and Ronan Mackinnon were both at Màrrach. Never had she been gifted with better news. Just knowing David was here lifted a tremendous burden from her.

She arranged for a bath to be delivered to her room and made one request. “Please give the best of care to my dear friend, Fergus MacLean, for I would not be here if it were not for him.”

“I can assure ye that it will be done, Mistress Douglas.”

She turned then and gave Fergus a hug and said she would find a way to repay his kindness toward her.

“Mayhap, I will hold ye to yer wird, mistress,” he said with a warm but tired smile.

They parted and Elisabeth hurried to her room, and was surprised to see Sir James sitting on the end of the bed when she opened the door. “It is amazing to me,” she said, closing the door, “how you always seem to be about when things are going well and painfully scarce when they are not. Are you here after the battle is over to shoot the wounded? I have been in a terrible situation, in case you haven't noticed.”

“Aye, I noticed, but ye handled everything well enough on yer own, did ye not?”

“Yes, but it could have been a bit easier.”

“Or worse…”

“Okay, then why are you here after the ordeal is over?”

He stood and his image, while not in solid form, was beautifully bright so that he almost looked human, but she noticed an odd look in his eyes. Her brows narrowed. “Don't tell me you have come to say good-bye.”

He smiled, his eyes lighting up as he said, “The worst is behind ye, and ye do ha' in yer room a man waiting who is more than capable o' helping ye now.”

She felt a heavy weight inside and her chest felt constricted, as if her heart was suddenly twice its size and had no room to beat. She had always given him a piece of her mind and did her fair share of complaining, and yet, he was always there, even if she could not see him. “It isn't easy to accept the fact that I will not see you again. I don't suppose you could pay me a short visit now and then… even if it's just a whirlwind or two?”

His countenance brightened. “I might find a need to admonish ye wi' a ruffled leaf now and then.”

She laughed. “I shall miss your wonderful sense of humor. I would have enjoyed having you for a friend in real life.”

“Friendship knows no bounds. Not even the grave can end it. Now, give me a simile and bid me adieu, so ye can ready yersel' to pay a visit to yer laddie, who grieves sorely over losing ye.”

“I will, but first I must claim my hug, for you hugged Isobella.”

“'Tis a blessed thing that the two o' ye were no' quintuplets,” he said, his form changing before her eyes. She went to him and he opened his arms and she felt a surge of warmth pass through her, and all the weariness from her travels vanished. “I cannot ever thank you enough.”

“Aye, ye can. Ye can name yer first son after me. I was thinking mayhap the name Douglas Alysandir Murray has a nice sound to it.”

She leaned back. “My firstborn will be a son?”

“Everything is possible,” and his form began to fade, but before it disappeared, he reached up to the top of his tunic and removed one of the blue stars and offered it to her. “'Tis a wedding gift fer ye to remember that the two o' ye are stronger together than apart.”

She opened her hand, and he placed it there, but what she saw was not the star, but a chain with a star sapphire set in gold.

She looked up to thank him, but all she saw was a blue, swirling vapor as it floated through the window and vanished.

She looked down at the necklace and turned it over. On the back it said
Ne
Oublie…

She smiled. The Graham motto:
Ne
Oublie…
Never forget.

As if she ever could.

My steps are nightly driven by the fever in my breast

To hear from thy lattice breathed the word that shall give me rest.

Open the door of thy heart and open thy chamber door,

And my kisses shall teach thy lips the love that shall fade no more

Till the sun grows cold, and the stars are old,

And the leaves of the judgment Book unfold.

—“Bedouin Song” (1872)

Bayard Taylor (1825–1878)

Lord Kinloss lay across the bed but he could not sleep. When Isobella gave him a choice, he thought sleeping in Elisabeth's bed was a good idea, but then he decided there would be too many memories of her there, and he wouldn't be able to sleep. So he chose the other so he could fall asleep quickly without tortuous thoughts.

It didn't work… Thoughts of her surrounded him, and even the bed seemed to carry the scent of her. Try as he might, he could not sleep for imaginings of her lying beside him in this bed, wearing a lovely sleeping gown that he would slowly remove. Her memory accompanied him wherever he went, and his emptiness over losing her was deeper and more painful than any wounds inflicted in battle.

The thought of her becoming the bride of Fergus MacLean drove him mad. He prayed he would find her before that could happen, for he knew if he did not, he would never get over the loss. Over and over, the images of moments with her played in his mind and he could not sleep for her memory would grant him no peace.

He put his arm over his eyes and thought of her, and he could smell the sweet fragrance of her hair, the smooth warmth of her leg lying close to his. On it went, memory after memory, until the images in his mind began to grow faint and the pounding of his heart eased. And as always, his last thoughts were of her.

Elisabeth… always Elisabeth…

He closed his eyes and she was there, coming toward him through a purple haze of heather, her long hair whipping in the wind, her skirts swirling about her. He moaned and slid his arm to the other side of the bed, as if by virtue of desiring it, she would be there. God, he wanted her to the point of desperation, and he longed to touch her. But the bed was empty and any thought of sleep this night vanished.

He left the bed and poured himself a glass of wine and moved to the desk, but instead of sitting down, he leaned against it, his back to the door, for it afforded him a magnificent view through the window he opened earlier. The air here was fairly cold, but the moisture from the Atlantic tempered it, and the coolness seemed to clear his head. He finished the first glass of wine and poured another, and wondered how many times had Elisabeth seen this same view from her room, and did she feel as humbled by the vastness of the night sky as he.

This was the picture that greeted her when Elisabeth opened the door quietly and slipped inside. She was thankful for the rumble of thunder that greeted her, for she had not wanted to wake him.

She gently closed the door behind her and almost gasped when she saw him sitting on the corner of the desk. He stared out the open window, while the wick of candle burned low on the desk, as if it danced upon the whisper of a breeze entering the room. He was clad only in his trews, and she was mesmerized by the play of muscle when he lifted the goblet he held in his hand.

The thunder was closer now, and the smell of rain was in the air as she tiptoed up behind him, glad she was barefoot. She had almost reached the desk, when he leaned his head back and released a deep sigh, as if he was relieved of a burden.

“I had given up hope of finding ye in time,” he said. “I feared ye were married by now and forever lost to me.”

She stared at the back of his beloved head, the hard muscles of his back, and his beautiful long hair. “Did you doubt that we were meant to be together—that I came back in time to find you?” Her voice was not quite as steady as she wanted it to be, and she did not want to break down and cry. But she had been through so very much these past weeks and the fear of losing him forever had taken its toll. How could it not when she feared all she would have left was the memory of having loved him?

“Aye, the thought entered my mind. Ye must admit we ha' had a damnable time o' it,” he said, and reaching around, he took her arm and led her around to stand in front of him. For some time, he simply looked her over, studying her as if trying to decide if she was real and not the teasing of a dream. He pulled the cord on her cape and pushed it from her shoulders.

“Ye are even more beautiful than I remembered, in spite of yer image being a constant presence that invaded my thoughts. It was torment to be apart from ye and not knowing.”

“I suffered the same torment, for it was being apart from you, and since I've been told Ronan is here, I hope that means you no longer believe he has my heart or that you consider him a threat.”

“Aye, he is an honorable man.”

“I am sorry for everything that has happened… for what you have been through.”

“'Tis naught compared to the pain o' losing ye. When I received word that ye had been captured…” He leaned his head back and she saw the muscles working in his jaw, and she knew his anguish. “I couldna bear the thought of never seeing ye again.”

She lifted her chin to look at him, so he would see the truth in her eyes. “It was the same for me,” she said, “for I died inside, a little more each day I was away from you.”

There was an element of sadness about him, one that seemed to cling to him like a low-lying cloud hugs land. He held her face cupped between his hands, his gaze traveling over her face as if he was committing each feature to memory. “I never knew love could be so all encompassing, so overwhelming, or that the absence of it could destroy a man so easily.”

“I am sorry it all happened and I know it was worse for you because you were left in the dark about everything. At least I knew what was happening to me, although it was not easy. I knew you would come to search for me, but I was frightened you might find me too late. I wish I could undo what has been done, but I cannot. I can only promise to love you, and keep on loving you more each day than I did the day before. I want nothing as much as I want to spend each day of my life with you, to never be separate again.”

His arms went around her and he drew her close, his words fanning her hair, his breath warm upon her neck. “When you rode out of my life that day, it was the most difficult thing I've ever done, to walk away from ye, knowing I might never see ye again. The only glimmer of hope I had to hold on to was remembering your assurance that there was naught between ye and Mackinnon, but I also knew that seeing him again might have changed things fer ye.”

“Well, at least the news that I was back in the hands of Angus MacLean satisfied that fear.”

“Nay, lass, fer I had a new worry. The moment I saw Ronan was no longer a threat, I then had to worry that Fergus MacLean would be married to ye before I reached Mull.”

Her eyes met his and when they did, the pain she saw there seemed to fade away, replaced by a warm, teasing look. “Faith! I ha' never know a lass so mired in marriage proposals. For a while I thought I might ha' to take up my sword and fight off yer suitors if I was to win yer hand.”

“You have always had my hand, my heart, and everything else.” She smiled and put her arms around his neck, drawing him close so she could place a kiss upon his lips, and then she whispered teasingly, “And I pray to God that nothing else will come between us before we can return home and put an end to all of this by finally getting married.”

“Dinna worrit aboot that,” he said. “I solemnly vow that naught will come between us from this moment forward. I willna risk losing ye, nor will I pass through the gates o' Màrrach Castle again… until ye are my wife. If I ha' learned anything, it is the enduring power of procrastination.”

Her heart pounded with joy. “You mean to have a wedding here at Màrrach?”

“Aye, I do. I shall speak wi' Alysandir aboot having the wedding here and will request it be performed by his uncle Lachlan.”

She threw her arms around his neck and gave him another kiss, then frowned, as if there was a problem with that idea. “But, what about Ailis? We cannot marry without her present, and your cousins, too.”

He kissed her back, and his words whispered against her mouth, “We will have Ailis here, and my cousins, too, but we will need to see if some o' yer friar friends can run the hospital in their absence.”

“That would be wonderful to have everyone here. I'm sure Alysandir would send some of his brothers to invite them.”

“Fergus might also enjoy a visit to Aisling and a tour o' yer hospital.”

She gasped.
Fergus… Ailis…
Her eyes lit up and her lips curved into a smile.

He chuckled and whispered, “Oh, no, I ken what ye are thinking…”

“Well, of course you do, and I'm not surprised, you know. You always seem to know me better than I know myself, as I recall, which can be terribly troublesome at times, for it does away with the prospect of surprise. And another thing, I would like…”

“Shhhh…”

“But this is concerning Ailis, and you know how much I…”

“Elisabeth…”

“Well, don't you think it would be a wonderful idea if…”

“We will discuss all of that after.”

She was about to ask him after what, when he took her by the hand. He led her toward the bed and silenced her with a kiss as he slipped the gown from her shoulders and it fell to the floor. Elisabeth did not say anything more, for David found something she liked more than talking.