The Fox, page 12
If only he could take deep breaths, he could call out for help. But the stab must have penetrated his lungs, and he could not.
What would become of Glynis if she was indeed with child? His bairn would be born a bastard and although he was sure he or she would be welcomed by the Ross clan, the stigma of their birth would remain for their entire life.
He prayed for a girl. It would be much easier then.
When he tried to pull at the ropes, he groaned at the pain it caused. After many tries with little result, he could not fight any longer and once again passed out.
A moan woke him and Caelan was astonished to still be alive. He took shallow breaths and did his best to open his eyes, but they’d swollen further, and it proved impossible.
Despite his inability to move—as his body did not obey his commands to do so—he instinctively knew he was not tied to the tree any longer.
“Are ye awake young man?” The voice of an older man fell over him. “Ye are lucky to be alive. Thought ye were dead when I found ye.”
“Leave him in peace,” a woman said. “He may not live much longer.”
“We should at least find out who he is,” the man said. “Send word to his family.”
“Escaped prisoner. Did ye not see the lash marks.”
The man chuckled. “Ye are daft woman. Why would someone escape and tie themselves to a tree?”
Despite trying his best to speak, he could not make himself. The warmth of a tear trickling down his face was at least a sensation of remaining alive. The rest of his body however, seemed to have died.
Someone lifted his head. “Try to drink,” the man’s gravelly voice said. “I’d prefer ye to live. Ye seem highborn and perhaps yer family will pay for yer rescue.”
The water soothed his parched throat, but it was bitter as if some sort of herbs had been added. He drank it all, not caring at this point what it was other than it was wet.
“They will most probably blame ye for what happened to him,” the woman said chuckling. “People like him do not pay. Ye should have left ’im in the forest.”
The man huffed. “Go away with ye. Ye are a useless old hag.”
Caelan tried to talk, but his tongue was heavy and thick. When he tried to say Ross, it sounded more like a cough.
“Is he trying to talk?” the old woman asked, and someone poked him in the side. “Who are ye?”
“Leave ’im be,” the man said. “He’ll talk when he’s ready.”
A trickle of sunlight pierced past the discolored window curtain. Caelan wasn’t sure how many days he’d been in the cottage. He’d become very ill, feverish for days, and at times prayed for death to claim him. The wounds on his back had begun to heal, but still every movement brought piercing pain.
At least he could see now, his eyes opening enough that he made out the surroundings. He lay on a blanket on a dirt floor. Across from him were a cot, table, and two chairs.
The humble surroundings were tidier than he expected.
The old man had never told him his name, instead he’d fed Caelan and spent his days arguing with the woman who stopped by daily. Their odd friendship was entertaining. It was evident they found joy in the banter.
There was no one in the cottage. The old man usually spent his days fishing or foraging for berries and other plants to cook.
The door opened and the woman walked in. She glanced around the cottage and then to him.
“Ye seem better this morning. Can ye tell me who ye are?”
Despite the friendship that seemed to exist between her and his rescuer, Caelan wasn’t sure he trusted her. He would wait for the man to come and hope he’d help him get word to his family.
“Where am I?” His voice sounded unfamiliar. Huskier.
“South Uist,” the woman replied. “Are ye from ’ere?”
Caelan looked past her while attempting to get up. “Aye.”
“Ye cannot leave. Rufus will be cross. I will go fetch him.” The woman dashed from the cottage.
It took several tries for him to stand. Without shoes and tunic, only his torn breeches, he looked like a beggar.
The room swayed and he staggered to the table. There was nothing to eat in the cottage. The old man lived off the meager fish he caught, rarely having bread or anything else.
When the old man finally arrived much later, Caelan could barely remain awake. He was hungry and still too ill to stay upright, so he’d returned to the blanket to sleep.
“Young man,” the old man prodded. “I caught several fish and was fortunate to have traded two for these.” He held up some carrots. “The stew will be flavorful tonight.”
With a wide grin, the old man hurried to the table to begin preparing the food.
Caelan looked at the man. “My name is Caelan Ross, I am brother to the laird.”
Chapter Fourteen
“A girl,” Aunt Mariel said with a wide smile. “Beatrice and Duncan will name her Gwendolyn. Which is beautiful, is it not?”
Glynis looked away from the blanket she was making. “It is a beautiful name.”
“Yer parents should have arrived back at home by now.”
“Hopefully, safely,” Glynis replied.
Her mother and father had come to visit and to show their disapproval of what she’d done. However, with the fact that Caelan was gone and presumed dead, they were restrained in speaking ill of him. Deciding to not prolong their stay, they’d stayed for a sennight before returning home.
Although they’d asked her to return with them, it was obvious they preferred she did not. It would be easier for her to remain at Keep Ross and away from the gossips of her village in Barra.
“Midday meal is ready,” Agnes, her maid, appeared at the sitting room doorway.
Glynis followed her aunt through the busy great room to the smaller dining room. The constant activity of the keep was a good distraction from the constant worry of what happened.
Every day, different groups of guards scoured the isle searching for Caelan. Men from Clan Macdonald and Clan MacNeil had come to help, some of them returning to their homelands to search in case he was taken there.
Darach demanded that every village be searched and rewards for information were promised. So far, it had proved futile.
A group of warriors, including Stuart, Gideon, and Ewan had gone to find the man they thought responsible. The elusive, Cairn McInerny.
Although Glynis had never met the man, she hated him with all her being. He’d done what he’d set out to do. He’d brought Laird Ross and his brothers to their knees in despair and worry.
When entering the dining room, Glynis was surprised that Darach was there, as well as Angus Ross, the laird’s uncle and Artair’s father.
Isobel motioned for her to sit in the empty seat next to her.
The men ate in silence, acknowledging her with only a nod.
Since Caelan had been taken, Catriona, Ewan’s wife, had returned to live at the keep. Cait was also brought to live there.
The women had been her support and comfort as the reality of her new life began to sink in. She was to be the mother to a fatherless bairn. It wasn’t said—no one dare—but everyone suspected that Caelan had been killed and would never return.
For many days and nights, Glynis grieved him. The lost opportunity to being married to a man like him. The fact that he would never know their child and worse that his fear of fathering a bastard son would now come to be.
“Ye should eat,” Isobel said bringing Glynis from her thoughts.
“Aye, I can finally eat without becoming ill,” she replied and attempted to smile.
She considered there was much to do to prepare for the bairn. Fortunately, she had options about where to live and how to provide for the child. Darach had assumed responsibility for her and offered her a choice of whether to remain at Keep Ross or return with Stuart and Cait to their home.
Cait had insisted she return and live with them, which Glynis strongly considered. Beatrice and Duncan had invited her to live with them, since that was also Caelan’s home.
“We will go visit Beatrice today,” Isobel said. “Ye should come.”
“I would love it.”
The ride to the house where Duncan, Beatrice, and Caelan lived was a pair of hours, but it was a pleasant one as the surrounding scenery was filled with beautiful landscapes and a few farms and homes. Isobel, Agnes, and her aunt Mariel joined her in the carriage.
“Annis should be here already,” Isobel said referring to her companion. “She and Orla are planning to help prepare our bedchambers for the stay.”
The incredible lands surrounding the estate came into view. It was a beautiful house with stables, and several outhouses for guards and whoever worked there. To the left of the house was a large field and to the right behind the stables was what looked to be an area used for some sort of plantings. Currently, the ground was bare.
They arrived and were greeted by Beatrice’s companion, Orla. The young woman was beaming with happiness as she told them about the newly born babe.
Unable to keep from it, Isobel raced up the stairs to visit her sister. Wishing to give the sisters some time, Glynis remained in the main room.
“Would ye like to see the house?” Orla asked.
An overwhelming sadness enveloped her. She sensed Caelan in every place her gaze landed. “I would.”
Orla motioned to the end of the hallway. This is where Mister Caelan spends a great deal of his time. The woman walked to a door and pushed it open.
Inside were bookcases, a desk, and two chairs. The room was dim as it had no window, yet it didn’t seem gloomy.
Glynis walked in and went to the desk on which a stack of ledgers were set on one side and an open one in the center. Ensuring not to touch the quill stuck into an ink bottle, she ran her fingers over the neat rows of notes and numbers.
Caelan had exquisite penmanship. Of course, he did. Everything about him was orderly.
The books on the shelves were just as neat, each one set just right, the titles unknown to her for the most part.
Glynis closed her eyes and took in a breath as she tried to keep from weeping. “He is very orderly, is he not?” Her voice caught on the last word.
“He never allows us to clean this room. Prefers to do it himself. Says we might misplace something important.” Orla laughed, making Glynis grateful the woman seemed to understand she needed distraction.
“What else is down this hall?” Glynis asked hurrying out of the study.
They walked into a beautiful parlor that once again seemed to exude Caelan’s personality. From there, they went up the stairs, past Isobel and Duncan’s bedchamber until reaching the end where it curved to the left.
Orla stopped and pointed to a door at the end of the short corridor. “That is his bedchamber.”
When the young woman remained standing, Glynis understood this was something she had to do alone. Taking several unsteady steps, she continued forward, propelled by the need to feel him closer. To know he was truly real and not some sort of vision that came into her life and left.
Caelan had given her back her sense of self. Had made her feel fully like a woman and desirable, not someone to be attacked and used like some sort of expendable item.
When he returned, she vowed to make every single moment between them special.
The door opened to a spacious bedchamber. Straight ahead were double doors with glass windows that opened to a wide balcony. To the right a large four-poster bed flanked by a pair of dark rich wooden tables.
To the left of the doors were an oversized wardrobe and a pair of chairs. The customary screen was set in the far left corner to be used for privacy.
The bedchamber was connected to a smaller room that was currently furnished as a sort of sitting room. She sighed and wondered if Caelan had ever planned for it to be a nursery.
It was the perfect place for her to await his return. He’d mentioned wishing for them to live at the house, once married.
While looking at a beautiful oil painting of a floral vase, Glynis remembered how she’d argued against living together. Now she could think of nothing else than the good fortune of spending every day with him.
She walked into the adjoining room and sat in one of the chairs. The entire space was him, every piece had obviously been carefully chosen. Like the study, the wood was dark and polished. On the wall was a tapestry depicting a scene with woods and foxes. She wondered if her aunt or his mother had embroidered it.
Her eyes stung with restrained tears and Glynis got to her feet and hurried from the room. Down the corridor, Orla stood with an older woman, who Glynis guessed to be Beatrice’s mother.
Indeed, when she neared, she recognized the woman from years earlier when the woman had traveled to Barra to visit family.
“Lady Macdonald, it is good to see ye,” Glynis told the woman, who waved away her attempt to curtsy and hugged her.
“Dear girl, I am so very sorry for what is occurring.” The woman released her but held her hands. “Like I just told Beatrice and Duncan, Ross men are hardy. Caelan has always been wily as a fox. He will find his way home.”
“I pray it is so,” Glynis replied her spirits lightened by the woman’s words.
“It will be so,” Lady Macdonald emphasized. “It is only a matter of when.”
Glynis threw herself against the woman and wrapped her arms tightly around her. “Thank ye for helping me feel more assured of his return.”
Lady Macdonald’s embrace was warm, and the woman smiled widely at her. “I must go see about something for Beatrice to eat.” The woman swept around and down the stairs with the grace of a queen.
At the door, Glynis peered in to see her aunt holding a tiny bundle, while Beatrice looked on from the bed. Next to her in a chair was Duncan Ross.
The man was huge and extremely handsome. The hazel gaze moved from his wife to her, and he stood. “Sit and keep her company? I need to see about some things.”
Just as he walked past her, he gave her a pointed look. “Do not lose hope.”
Glynis swallowed past the lump that formed. “I will not.” She lowered to the chair and looked at the sleeping child her aunt lowered for her to see. “She is beautiful.”
“I think so as well,” Beatrice replied, her gaze shiny. “It is such a bittersweet time. I feel guilty for feeling so happy.”
“Ye should not. It is a wonderful thing. A new life. A blessing amidst troubles.” She could not help but wonder how it would be the day she gave birth.
Beatrice sniffed. “Duncan is heartbroken and anxious. He wishes to be out there searching for Caelan. At the same time, he does not wish to leave me alone.”
It was understandable. There were guards patrolling the house just in case Cairn, who they suspected was responsible for Caelan’s disappearance, tried anything else.
“What do ye think?” Glynis asked. “Would it be good for him to go?”
Beatrice nodded. “Aye, I have told him to go. I am well protected.”
Just then Isobel and Lady Macdonald walked back inside. Isobel went to the window. “Riders approach. I hope they bring news.”
Glynis rushed to look out and indeed a group of horsemen galloped toward the house. “I want to go downstairs and hear what news they bring,” she exclaimed.
“I do as well,” Isobel said. “One of them is Ewan.”
Indeed, one of the horsemen was Ewan Ross, the third in line after Darach.
“It is best we obey Duncan and remain here,” Aunt Mariel said although she stretched to look when the men disappeared from their view, riding to the front of the house.
Glynis was not going to wait. She rushed from the room and then down the stairs to the front door.
“What happens?” she called out as she went out to where Ewan dismounted.
His hazel gaze met hers. “There is news. Villagers said they saw a man being dragged into a wagon. They say he was beaten badly, but alive.”
“I’ve come to get ye, Duncan. Ye are the best tracker. There may not be much time and although we’ve scoured the area, there are no signs that we can find.”
Without a word, Duncan turned on his heel and raced into the house.
“We will find him,” Ewan stated, his eyes boring into Glynis’. “My brother will come home.”
Moments later, Duncan rode away with the men. Glynis watched from the window, unable to move even after they disappeared.
Her entire body ached. It was a surreal feeling that was caused by the distress she felt at the possibility that Caelan was dying as his family searched for him.
“Ye must eat and rest,” her aunt stated. “It is not good for the bairn if ye sink into despair.”
“Very well.” She allowed herself to be guided down to the front room. The others sat around the table, the food on their plates untouched. It felt sinful to eat and enjoy a good meal while Caelan could be somewhere hungry and thirsty.
“Eat ladies. Otherwise, ye will not be strong enough to care for the mother and child upstairs and Mister Caelan when he returns,” Gara, the cook said in a no-nonsense tone that they needed to hear.
The firm instructions seemed to snap them out of their worry, and they all began eating and discussing the logistics of what and where they would remain to await news.
“Since this is closer to where he was last seen, I think we should remain here,” her aunt stated. “Besides this is his house.”
“We will prepare a recovery room for him in the parlor,” Lady Macdonald said. “There will be a need for plenty of bandages.”
Glynis spoke next. “Where is the Clan Ross healer now?”
“Waiting at the keep,” Isobel replied. “I will send a message asking that he and his helper come here.”
Guards rode past the window and Glynis followed their progress. “He should recover here. I agree.”
“I will send Agnes and Annis to pack our clothing,” Isobel told her and grabbed her hands. “He is coming home.”
Tears fell freely. Despite the hopeful tone, there was the underlying fear that Caelan would return home, but not alive.
