Highland Destiny Read online

  This plan failed, and Digby fled to the Isle of Man. There was no longer any hope of reinforcements from England.

  Through the long, cold, northern winter the struggle continued to raise an army, from chiefs quarrelling amongst themselves and unwilling to redeem their promises. The main defector was Huntly, who was madly jealous of Montrose, and who wavered, finally rejecting the orders he received. The Gordons were lost to the cause, but almost immediately the final blow fell when the news came that King Charles had given himself up to a Scottish army in England and ordered Montrose to disband his army and himself go to France.

  John, having come to admire Montrose intensely in the few short months he had known him, was bitter when he returned to the castle.

  'He is betrayed! He has lost everything, and now this!'

  'What do you intend to do now?' Lord Hugh asked calmly.

  John shook his head despondently. 'I cannot tell. The war would seem to be over. I might join the Marquis – he escaped to Norway – but I have not thought fully on it.'

  'I need a steward. Remain here. Oh, you would be free to go, with my blessing, if there is any future possibility of supporting the King, but for the moment you have no such hope. I am getting old and could employ you here. Will you accept?'

  'It is a surprising offer, my lord,' John replied.

  'Think about it. Discuss it with your mother. She would like to see more of you, I have no doubt.'

  Lady Emrey was in favour of the plan, pointing out that Fiona was still too young to take over much of the management of her father's lands, and Lord Hugh was partly crippled with gout.

  'He needs an active man to ride about and supervise his lands, and has no one in his family. His nephews are all too young, save one who has his own lands to manage.'.

  'I have met him,' John answered. 'Alexander Macdonald was with Montrose and has gone with him to Norway. He sent his – regards to Fiona,' he added slowly, and Lady Emrey cast him a swift, appraising look.

  'What manner of man is he?' she asked casually.

  'Very high and mighty!' John declared. 'A good fighter, but somewhat haughty. He asked many questions as to our being here, and wanted to know if Fiona's betrothal was concluded. I did not know aught of the matter.'

  'Lord Hugh has told me she is to wed a Crawford from the Borders. It was arranged long ago. But will you accept his offer?'

  *

  John did so, and began to assist Lord Hugh and Fiona. For the Emreys the next two years were pleasant, despite their dismay at events in England where the King, betrayed and handed over to the English Parliamentary Commissioners by the Scots, did not appear to be in a happy situation.

  Mr Henderson, the Rector at their old home, wrote occasionally with news, and they heard that the Manor had been given to a Roundhead soldier from Lincolnshire who had fought with Cromwell. All their old neighbours, whatever their private convictions, were forced to comply with the new rulers. The Emreys had to abandon for the time being any hope of recovering what had been lost, or of returning to their old home. They settled down with the Macdonalds and came to love the Highlands, so different from what they had been accustomed to.

  Then, soon after Blanche's seventeenth birthday, Lord Hugh fell ill and late in July in the year 1648 he died peacefully in his sleep. For a day Fiona was prostrate with grief, gently cosseted by her old nurse Janet, but on the next morning she appeared, pale and dry-eyed, to take over her duties as chieftain. Only when she was alone with Janet or Blanche did she allow her grief to overwhelm her. Elsewhere she dealt competently with affairs as she had been training to do since the death of Angus, calmly issuing orders for her father's funeral and greeting the guests who arrived to pay their respects.

  Amongst the first of these was her uncle Colin, the next eldest brother of her father.

  Blanche had not met him before since the brothers had done their utmost to avoid contact with one another, and was struck by his total dissimilarity to Lord Hugh.

  Colin was a small man, with shifty eyes and a weak mouth, always too ready to agree with whatever was said, but showing signs of querulousness if his will were thwarted.

  With him came his wife, Katriona, who made up for her husband's vacillations by an aggressive manner and a complete disregard for anyone else's comfort.

  'Well, niece, we have seen little enough of you since the death of your brother, but now we will be here to help you,' Katriona announced.

  'I have been busy, as you can imagine, learning to take Angus' place,' Fiona replied smoothly. 'How are your children? I long especially to see my god-daughter, Margaret.'

  'We will send for her as soon as this business is over. She is four, and a lively miss. She will keep you from pining while your uncle sorts out matters.'

  Fiona's lips tightened, but she did not reply, merely nodding and turning to Lady Emrey who waited nearby, to desire her to show the Lady Katriona to the rooms that had been prepared for her.

  As Katriona swept from the hall Fiona turned with a rueful smile to Blanche.

  'I foresee trouble until I can convince her I am now chieftain, and not she through her husband,' she said, laughing slightly. 'My aunt has always resented the fact that Colin was the second son.'

  She had no more time to discuss it, for another guest arrived. He was a dark, swarthy man, slightly above middle height, but broad and muscular, a powerfully built man. Blanche judged him to be in his mid thirties. He was clad in green and blue trews, and strode confidently into the room, casting a quick glance about him before bowing low over Fiona's hand. Standing before her, he regarded her intently from eyes set close together above a hooked nose.

  'Welcome, my Lord Campbell.'

  'Dear child! A lamentable occasion, in truth, but I see you are bearing up bravely. If it becomes too much of a strain, rely on me! It shall never be said that Duncan Campbell was remiss in helping his neighbour at such a sad time. Our past differences shall all be forgotten, for they were quarrels of our forebears, were they not, and not of our making!'

  Fiona murmured suitable replies to his effusive remarks, and Blanche realised that he was a neighbouring chieftain. She had taken an instant dislike to him, and could see from the way Fiona reacted to him that she was uncomfortable in his presence.

  Both girls breathed a sigh of relief when he took himself off.

  Late that night Fiona came to Blanche's room.

  'Do you mind if we talk?' she asked, pausing by the door. 'I cannot sleep.'

  The funeral was due to take place on the following day, and Blanche was well aware of the strain her friend was under. She moved over and patted the bed beside her.

  'Get under the covers or you will be cold. Even in mid-summer the Highland nights are chill.'

  Gratefully Fiona slid into the bed, and sat for a while hugging her knees. 'What do you think of my family?' she asked abruptly.

  'I have not yet sorted them all out. Your Uncle Colin I know, but did not your father have another brother? It is not the Uncle Bruce who arrived late tonight, is it?'

  'No. Bruce Maclean is my mother's brother. Father's youngest brother was David, but he died fighting in Germany, at Lutzen, where King Gustavus Adolphus himself was slain. He has a son, Alexander, but he is with Montrose, I believe, and I doubt if he has yet even heard of my father's death, and is unlikely to come. He is the best of them all, and though he is sometimes overbearing I could wish him here. What do you think of Black Duncan?' she asked abruptly.

  'I would not trust him a yard, if that!' Blanche declared roundly. 'He made me shiver, despite his apparent concern for you.'

  'Oh, he is concerned! He has been demanding my hand from father since Angus died, hoping to unite our lands. Apart from my betrothal to Patrick Crawford, that would be the end of the Macdonald clan.'

  Blanche did not reply, for she was thinking about this man to whom Fiona had been betrothed as a child, but whom she had never seen. Patrick was the youngest of four sons of a Border chieftain, a few years ol
der than Fiona, and had her father not died the marriage would soon have taken place.

  'He is a widower with three young sons, and if I were to marry him no son of mine would inherit my lands,' Fiona was saying, almost to herself. 'He would make sure his sons took all.'

  'Have you not sent for Patrick?'

  'Yes, but it will take time for him to travel here, and we could not celebrate a marriage for some months. I will be happier and feel safer when he is here, nonetheless. The Campbell frightens me.'

  It was rare for the self-possessed Fiona to confess to fear, and Blanche set herself to banish as much as she could, talking soothingly until Fiona, worn out with the efforts of the past few days, slept.

  *

  The funeral service was long and sombrely splendid, taking place in the small church which served the whole town. Afterwards the funeral procession wound through the narrow streets, lined with keening women who accompanied Lord Hugh, their much loved chieftain, to his final resting place in the vault where most of his ancestors from the past four hundred years lay. By now Blanche was accustomed to the wild cry of the bagpipes, and thrilled when they played spritely marching songs and reels.

  Now she found that in sadness their music pulled forth her own distress and in the fusion the pain was lessened.

  The guests, having been solemn for so long, seemed determined to make up for it at the feast which followed. Normally Fiona would have remained in seclusion, but her position as chieftain forced her to be present, and she endured stoically the sight of the feasting and drinking, taking scarcely any nourishment herself. At last she was able to withdraw from the main hall, but she could not entirely escape, for the most important guests, her family and the neighbouring chieftains, considered it their privilege to accompany her to the smaller room behind the hall. At least it was quieter there, she thought, as she sat beside the fire and steeled herself to endure further company.

  Duncan Campbell was assiduous in his attentions, fetching wine and hovering over her while she drank.

  'Pray call on me if I can assist you,' he said softly so that only Fiona could hear. 'I well understand you will be beset with helpful relatives, but they may not have your true interests at heart as I shall.'

  Katriona, seeing his attempt to secure Fiona's sole attention, bustled forward.

  'You bore up well, my dear, and I am proud of you. Would you not prefer to retire now? I am sure everyone would understand and excuse you.'

  There was nothing Fiona would have liked better than to escape from these people, but she was not going to leave at Katriona's behest.

  'I will do my duty, Aunt,' she said coolly, and turned to speak to her Uncle Bruce, who had been trying to catch her attention for some minutes. Impervious to the hint, Katriona drew up a stool and stationed herself beside Fiona, who ignored her.

  'You are looking well, Uncle Bruce,' Fiona said, smiling at him. He was a gentle looking man, who always seemed worried or distracted, and Blanche had felt sorry for him amongst the rest of these predatory, forceful people.

  'Thank you, my dear, I am well. But I have not had time to explain and apologise to you for my dear son's absence. He – he is suffering from a fever, and was unable to travel, but he sends his condolences, and hopes to come to visit you soon.'

  Colin, who had drawn nearer, gave a crack of laughter. 'Your son needs a wife to care for him, Bruce,' he said. 'How is your dear wife? I trust she is better than when I last heard of her?'

  Bruce cast him a glance of sheer loathing, and moved away to stand looking out of the window. Fiona frowned, and with an imperious wave of the hand that deterred even Katriona, followed him and stood chatting quietly with him for a few minutes.

  Duncan had also moved away, and Katriona beckoned her husband to her side.

  'You had best watch Black Duncan,' Blanche heard her say. 'He means to marry Fiona if he can, and if he succeeds he ends all chance of our sons inheriting.'

  'I do not think Fiona favours him,' Colin muttered.

  'That will be nought to do with it. At least she does not favour Bruce's miserable spawn!'

  'She is betrothed, in any event.'

  'Pah! That can be dealt with. 'Tis a great pity our own Andrew is not old enough to marry Fiona. Twelve is too young, she could not be persuaded to wait for him. Why is Alex not here? I would have expected him to come, for his intention is to wed her himself if he can contrive it!'

  'It seems a little premature to start disposing of Fiona almost before my brother is cold in his grave,' Colin said slowly.

  'Others will not think so, depend on't!'

  Katriona rose and, smiling determinedly, passed round the room to converse with the guests. At last she came up to Fiona.

  'I have been wondering what your plans are now,' she purred. 'You can be certain we mean to aid you, for the rest of your relatives are not fitted to do so!'

  'My betrothed will soon be arriving, Aunt Katriona, so I need not tear you away from your family. Your children must be longing for your return.'

  'Patrick is on his way?'

  'There has scarce been time for my message to reach him, but he will doubtless come as soon as it does, and when a suitable time has elapsed we shall marry.'

  'I thought to see Alex here, for I am told he is back in Edinburgh. I am surprised he cannot tear himself away from his entertainments to pay his last respects to his uncle, who was also his chieftain.'

  'I doubt if he has yet heard. If he had, I cannot imagine any entertainments would keep him away!'

  'Some trollop, no doubt!' Katriona said tartly. 'You must not permit yourself to be swayed by his charm of manner, my dear. You have had little experience, and I would guide you.'

  'I know whom to trust,' Fiona said sweetly, and politely moved on to talk with someone else.

  She was not so calm when she came later that night to Blanche's room.

  'That woman! One day I shall be intolerably rude to her. If she does not take herself home within a day or so I shall ask John to abduct her, or spirit her away!'

  Blanche laughed, and after a moment Fiona joined in.

  'Oh, I should not allow her to disturb me so. But I abhor her managing ways and detestable hints. She is so unkind to poor Uncle Bruce!'

  'Why was he so disturbed when she mentioned his wife?'

  'Because she has been mad for over ten years, and has to be kept confined. He is terrified his son, Donald, takes after his mother. I have heard rumours and I think it likely, but so far the poor young man is not seriously enough affected to have to be shut away.'

  'Poor man! But your other cousin Alexander does not sound so unfortunate.'

  'No, indeed! Alex is the best of all my cousins, and I believe she is jealous of him, which leads her to disparage him. I do wish he could have been here. I wonder if he has really returned to Edinburgh?'

  On the following day some of the guests departed. Duncan, having contrived to speak alone with Fiona, had been fervent in his assurances that he was anxious only to help her.

  'I do understand the sorrow that comes when death removes those we love,' he said in a more than usually gentle fashion. 'I have lost one very dear to me, and though it is some years ago I still keenly miss her. As do my sons, who are anxious I should give them a new mother.'

  'Stepmothers are reputedly hostile to the children,' Fiona said lightly, and Duncan laughed.

  'Not all. But remember, dear child, rely on me if you need any support. Our people have had much in common despite the enmity that has existed at times. I would end the disputes and have Campbells and Macdonalds live in peace – soon!'

  'I could scarce stop shivering,' Fiona told Blanche later when she related this conversation. 'But now, thank heaven, he is gone and all the others too! I feel charitable towards young Andrew, who is an obnoxious boy, for developing a fever and causing his mother to hasten home!'

  Blanche saw less of Fiona in the next few weeks because the affairs of her inheritance occupied her a great deal, but alw
ays Fiona enjoyed her leisure hours in the company of Lady Emrey and Blanche, and when he could make time from his duties John often joined them.

  Her perceptions keener now she was older, Blanche had realised as her mother had done long ago that John was devoted to Fiona. He would never hear a word of criticism of her, and served her as steward in a manner that took no heed of anything but her wellbeing. Sometimes Blanche worried over the outcome, and once confided in her mother.

  'He must realise he can never marry her,' she said slowly. 'Fiona must marry where her father planned.'

  Lady Emrey smiled down at her and gently stroked her curls. Blanche was seated on a cushion at her feet, supposedly sewing, but her needle had been discarded long since.

  'Do not be concerned over John. I do not believe he wishes for any greater satisfaction than serving his lady, rather in the manner of the knights of chivalry. Odd, mayhap, but in his way he is content. If he loves her, it is not a carnal love. I am sure that some day John will find a woman who stirs his desires in a way Fiona cannot, because he does not allow himself to think of her that way. He will be happy. It will be easier when Patrick arrives.'

  Blanche was not convinced, for she knew John never looked at another woman. She could only pray that it would be as her mother thought.

  *

  Chapter 3

  The days passed uneventfully until towards the end of August when Bruce Maclean came on another visit. Fiona received him warmly, for she had always been sorry for this unfortunate uncle who seemed so little fitted to bear his sorrows. They dined together, and afterwards Bruce nervously asked if he might speak alone with Fiona.

  'What is it, Uncle?' she asked when he had been comfortably installed in a chair in her private sitting room.

  'I am deeply concerned about you, my dear niece,' he said, nervously fingering the straggling ends of his moustache. 'Have you heard from Patrick? He has not joined this mad venture into England to rescue the King, I trust? Hamilton has no chance of success, none at all!'

  'As to that, I cannot tell, but Patrick is not involved. There was a letter a few days ago to say that as soon as he could complete various matters at home he would set out and expected to reach us a week or so after his messenger.'