Shared by the Highlanders (26 page)

“Shit!” I breathe.

“I beg your pardon?” Will glances at me, amused.

“Fucking shit. They must be worth thousands.” I look from one to the other, in awe. “I suppose running errands for Mary, queen of Scots was lucrative work.”

“Aye, lass, it could be on occasion. Do you think we’ll have enough for our needs here, then?”

I just nod. “I’ll try to identify the gold coins too, then we’ll check out one of the auction sites for possible valuations. Sotheby’s should do, I think…”

I tap a few more keys and find an image similar to the gold scattered across my quilt.

“Gold unicorns, minted in Stirling, in the reign of James the fourth…”

“Aye, that’s right. How do you know all this?”

“You can find out anything online these days. This machine is linked to millions of others, all over the world. It’s like having all the libraries you can imagine, here in my bedroom. Neat, eh?” I spare a glance at them. Will looks impressed, fascinated even. Robbie just looks incredulous. But the evidence is there in the images appearing on my screen as I scroll through the various sites. I return my attention to the laptop. “But look at the condition of yours compared to most of these. And… shit, even in that sort of sorry state they’re worth nearly fifteen hundred pounds each. Yours will be sure to bring more than that, they’re perfect. How many do we have here?”

“Should be a hundred or thereabouts.” Robbie rolls from his position on the bed to once more start searching through his clothing on the floor. “You’re talking in riddles again, wee Charlie. But just in case the coins aren’t enough, what do you think this might fetch?” He straightens and tosses something else onto the bed. The object is also gold, and rolls across the duvet to land next to the coins.

“Sweet Jesus, you still have it?” This from Will, clearly surprised at Robbie’s latest contribution to our fundraising.

“Aye. I was intending to leave it with Elspeth for her to pass on to the queen, but she wouldn’t take it. She told me to keep it and give it to her majesty myself, when I had an opportunity. I doubt that chance will come my way now.”

I’m speechless, staring at the gleaming ring lying on my duvet cover. I recall the exchange between Elspeth and Robbie as we left Glen Blair, and I did catch sight of the ring then, briefly. I was too preoccupied with our imminent danger though to give it more than a passing thought. Certainly at that stage I could never have envisaged that the next time I was to see this beautiful piece, the jewels would be shining up at me from my humble bedspread. The gold is bright, deep in colour, outshining even Robbie’s coins. The emerald seems to glow in the light, and the rubies are brilliant deep scarlet. It is exquisite.

“Is that…? Whose is that?” I manage to ask, my voice a strangled squeak.

“Well, it’s difficult to say, lass. I suppose strictly speaking it belongs to Mary, as her English cousin intended it as a gift for her. I daresay the moment for that has passed though.”

“This was a gift? From Elizabeth the first to Mary, queen of Scots? Are you sure?”

Robbie grins at me. “Aye, lass, we’re sure enough. Elizabeth handed it to me herself, with instructions to convey it, along with her letters, to her cousin in Edinburgh. It was to be a token of her goodwill and esteem, she said.”

“Aye,” Will agrees. “The English queen took it from her own finger and gave it to us with those instructions. She was most definite.”

“She actually wore this? Herself? Elizabeth?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. If true, if provable, this item is priceless.

Both men nod, though their expressions suggest neither of them fully appreciates the implications. They will, soon enough. Once the experts get to work on authenticating Elizabeth’s ring. I snap into action.

“We’ve a lot to do. We can’t start flooding the antiques market with priceless artefacts until you both at least have names and some sort of identity. You’ll find yourselves arrested for theft or forgery or some such thing. We’ll need to come to with some sort of reasonable explanation for how we come to have these things in our possession. First though, we need to get dressed. And we need to get Henry over here and explain our predicament to him.”

“Explain?” Will lifts one expressive dark eyebrow.

“Yes. You remember when we needed help, back in Scotland, and you took me to Elspeth? She was our friend then, our protector. You knew she could be trusted. Well, Henry is the same. He
will
help us.”

“You mean to tell him everything then?”

“Yes. Everything. It’ll be all right, I know it will.”

“Will he believe us?”

“I’m not sure. Did Elspeth believe us? In the end it didn’t matter; she was your friend and that was enough. She helped us. Henry is my friend, and we can rely on him. I swear it. You need to trust me now, just as I trusted you before.”

They look at each other, and I know some sort of silent communication is going on. Moments pass, then they bring me back into their circle.

Will gives a curt nod. “Right, lass. Let’s talk to him.”

Epilogue

Glen Blair, Scotland, April 2015

Glen Blair is breath-taking. Over the years the house has been enlarged and of course modernised to an extent. According to the tour guide the core section dates back to the fourteenth century and it is still visible, but these days it is flanked by the grandeur of Georgian wings constructed on either side. The stable block has become a tearoom, and the loch at the bottom of the hill where my heroic deeds were performed is now home to a water sports centre. It offers canoeing, rowing, and there’s even water-skiing for the more ambitious with a death wish. Robbie declares it his intention to try that, after he’s pigged out on a cream tea.

I suspect the water-skiing to be a bad idea, but after a year of trying to acclimatise him to life in this century I’ve finally resigned myself to the fact Robbie must be immortal. Nothing else could explain his survival in the face of bungee-jumping, sky-diving, and of course fast cars. His fascination with motor vehicles was forged that first day and has never dimmed. He struggled with the theory test, having only just mastered the most basic of IT skills, but gained his driving licence within weeks of arriving in this century. He bought his first BMW a few days later. Robbie now has a lucrative used car sales business, specialising in high-end classic vehicles. He seems to have a real flair for it, both for the business side of things and a true appreciation of the sensual roadsters he sells. His latest acquisition, an Audi Le Mans Concept is now lording it in the Glen Blair visitors’ car park.

Will also drives, though a more modest Vauxhall suits his requirements well enough. His passion is IT, and more specifically, the use of online resources for historical research. Perhaps inspired by that first day when I was able to pinpoint the details of their fabulous coin collection, he has been fascinated by the potential to bring the past alive using modern technology. At first I feared he might be homesick, perhaps regretting their irreversible decision to leap across four and half centuries into the unknown, but I no longer believe that. Will adores his life here, and lives it to the full. He is passionate about ancient history, and finally managed to overcome his aversion to flying in order to visit Luxor and the Valley of the Kings. Today though we are indulging one of his other passions, that of exploring and researching his roots in Scotland. Robbie is more blasé, but privately I know he shares Will’s fascination for discovering what became of the people they loved back then.

Henry came through for us, as I knew he would. He even seemed to accept our story, though some weeks later he confessed he’d thought that I was mad and Will and Robbie even more deluded. But he liked us, and so he humoured us. He’s been my friend for too long to quibble over details. He took some convincing about our request that he help us to buy false identification documents, and pointed out that this was the sort of purchase more usually associated with terrorists or organised crime. We managed to win him over though, and from there on it was reasonably simple.

Henry sold the first two gold unicorns on our behalf, and raised over nine thousand pounds for them. This was enough to create one Robert McBride, born in Dundee in nineteen eighty-four, educated at St. Andrews and a qualified mechanical engineer. Will emerged from the process as William Sinclair, born in Aberdeen in nineteen eighty-five and a software specialist by trade. From there we were on a roll, and have so far sold just over half the coins, netting over a quarter of a million pounds for them. This has been enough to get us a nice ranch-style bungalow in Cheshire, with a paddock at the back for Will’s horses. He continues to love riding, and insisted we had to live on the ground. So we do.

Elizabeth’s ring is currently residing with experts at Birmingham City University, who have convinced us to allow it to go on public display before putting it up for auction. It has been authenticated, and is expected to raise in excess of half a million pounds.

I had intended that we also sell the other artefacts we brought back with us. My red velvet dress, the men’s fifteenth-century attire too. The plaids would be valuable, I’m sure. And I certainly wanted to be rid of Will’s dagger before he got into real trouble with it. In the end we haven’t needed to raise extra cash and decided to keep all those items, as much for their sentimental value as anything else. The gown was a gift to me from Elspeth and now hangs in my wardrobe, protected by polythene. The plaids too, and the other clothing are safely stored. I confiscated the dagger.

Our new home has three bedrooms, though only one is used for that purpose. The other two are an office, and a guest room for when my mother or sister descend upon us. They find my new domestic arrangements baffling, but can’t fault Will and Robbie’s solicitous care of me.

Even Poppy has come out of it all right. She no longer gets to sleep on my bed, there really isn’t room for her as well, but she now has another friend to snuggle up to. Erik the Siberian husky joined our household when one of Robbie’s customers brought him into the showroom as a six-month-old pup. He’d grown too big and bouncy for the terraced house his owner was reduced to living in in order to fund his passion for petrol-driven glory, so was in need of a new home. Robbie piled the pup into the back of his car and brought him out to Cheshire to be bullied and trained by Poppy. She’s in her element, and Erik is her faithful slave.

I still crew the ambulance, though I suppose strictly speaking I no longer need the cash. It’s more a principle really. And I love my job.

It’s been a year since the momentous, life-changing events of spring two thousand and fourteen. A turbulent, scary, fabulous year as we’ve settled down together, making our home, building new lives. A year in which I’ve come to adore my Scottish heroes more every day, and been cherished by them in turn. It’s been a strange shifting of fortunes, where first they protected and cared for me when I was cast into an alien world, then our roles were reversed as they acclimatised to this century. Now they still dominate in the bedroom, and in most other rooms of our house as well to be fair. And that suits me absolutely fine.

It was Will’s suggestion, naturally, that we come on this trip to Scotland to revisit our roots. He’s been doing some research on line to learn how events transpired back there after we made our escape. He declared himself sorry but not especially surprised at Mary, queen of Scots’ eventual demise, executed as a prisoner of the English. What did surprise them both was the union of the two countries under Mary’s son, James the sixth of Scotland and James the first of England. That the two nations have been united ever since leaves them frankly amazed, but even more astounding to Robbie was the current debate about Scottish independence in the run up to a referendum later this year.

“So, the English would just let the people of Scotland vote on it? And if they don’t want English rule they just have to say so, and it’s all over. No battles? No bloodshed? No sacking of Berwick?”

I nodded my head. “Yes, that about sums it up. And Berwick will remain unmolested. I expect the two countries would take a lot of untangling now as so much is shared, but if Scotland votes yes to independence, they’ll be cut loose.”

“Och, what a shame. Now where’s the fun in that?”

Our tour of Glen Blair concluded, we relax and reflect in the stable block tearoom over fruit scones, clotted cream, and a large pot of tea. It was eerie, revisiting the scene of our adventure that seems to have happened so many years ago, yet is as recent as just last year to us three.

The more modern parts of the house are of no real interest to us, but as soon as we set foot in the original hall I felt a shiver run along my spine. I spun around, convinced I would see Elspeth standing behind me, her serene, knowing smile playing on her expressive mouth. Of course, she was not there, not any longer. She’s been dead for centuries.

There were other visitors too, with their pushchairs and their cameras, strolling through the grand hall. We ignored them. I listened instead for the cheerful chatter of Elspeth’s boisterous children as they charged the length of the hall in a game of tag, or of her busy servants scurrying about their duties under Elspeth’s eagle eye.

Her essence permeates every inch of this place, the atmosphere is hers alone.

We followed the tourist arrows upstairs, and I gasped as we entered the chamber which was Robbie’s when we stayed here, and which the three of us shared. The bed was the same one, I remember it most clearly. I have a vivid recollection of the richly embroidered bedspread against my back, and of my freshly spanked bottom rubbing against the rough fabric. It was quite wonderful, a glorious sensation. My pussy clenched, moistened at the mere memory of that incredible night.

I knew by their rapt expressions and occasional murmured curses that Will and Robbie remembered too. And that they also miss Elspeth. She was a true friend to us.