Chapter
17
A
-Cuil had come into the possession of the Leslies of Glenkirk Athrough the current duke’s mother, Lady Stewart-Hepburn. It had belonged to Cat’s paternal grandmother, Jean Gordon Hay, who had given it to Cat. Its value was in its isolated beauty, and the mountain forest that belonged to it. It had been used as a hunting lodge by several generations of Gordons, Hays, and Leslies, and always kept ready for visitors. Once in the not-too-distant past, Jemmie and Jasmine had hidden themselves there to escape a rival for Jasmine’s affections.
The small lodge itself was set upon a cliff that commanded a spectacular view of Glenkirk Castle, Sithean Castle, and Greyhaven, Cat’s girlhood home, as well as several small lochs far below. The forest surrounded the lodge and its stables. It was beautiful, wild, and totally isolated. Built of stone with a slate roof, it was virtually undetectable nestled on its cliff, the endless sky spread out above it.
While knowing of its existence, neither India nor Fortune had ever been to A-Cuil. The well-marked trail from Glenkirk Castle grew fainter and fainter as they climbed into the hills, and finally up the steep ben. Several times the cart tilted so precariously that India thought it would tip over, casting her down onto the gorse and rocks. At one point, the forest was so deep that the sun scarcely penetrated to the forest floor. Up and up their little train climbed until finally they entered out into a sunny clearing where the lodge and its stables were set neatly awaiting them.
“God’s boots!” Fortune swore. “It is small, isn’t it?”
“You can go back with the provisions cart,” India said.
Fortune shook her head. “Nay. ’Twill be an adventure, and, besides, the forest looks like good hunting. I’ve hunted with Diarmid More-Leslie before. Between us we’ll keep in fresh meat.”
India’s cart came to a halt, and she exited the vehicle as Fortune slid from her horse’s back. “Let’s go inside,” India said. “I want to see the living quarters.”
Within the lodge was charming, but, as they had been warned, of insignificant proportions. On the main floor there were but two rooms. The smaller of the two served as a kitchen area with its tiny pantry. The larger room with its big fireplace and wall oven would be where they spent most of their time, and where they would cook their food, for the little kitchen had no hearth. The furnishings were simple, although over the years, a few more comfortable pieces had been added than were originally there. There was a small trestle and two chairs in the kitchen.
“Jesu,” India grumbled, “ ’tis colder than a witch’s tit in January in here. Diarmid,” she shouted, “bring some wood! We’re freezing to death in here! Meggie, go and help him.”
“Yes, my lady,” Meggie said, running outside where she would have sworn it was far warmer than inside the damp lodge.
“Let’s see what’s upstairs,” Fortune said, and began to climb the narrow flight of stairs followed by her elder sister.
At the top of the stairs they found a single bedchamber, and entered it. On the door wall was a fireplace. To the left was a bank of casement windows overlooking part of the valley view, and the forest. To the right was a single round window. It was not a large room, but it comfortably held several pieces of furniture. Opposite the door was a good-sized canopied and curtained bed. At its foot was a carved clothes chest. There was a little table beneath the round window, and a tapestried chair by the fireplace. There was a pier glass on the bit of wall to the left of the door. On the floor were several thick sheepskins.
“Everything is clean, even the windows,” India noted. “Papa must have been planning this since I returned to Glenkirk.” She turned and slowly descended into the main room of the lodge. “Even here, everything is dusted and swept. But it really is small. When I think of my palace in El Sinut . . . why, my personal apartments were larger than this by far, weren’t they, Meggie?”
“Your day room was bigger than this,” Meggie said frankly. “This is nae more than a wee mousie’s hold, my lady, but more folk hae lived in smaller places, I can tell you. We’ll manage.”
Diarmid had brought the wood, and there was already a fire started in the large fireplace. “I’ll begin a fire in the bedchamber, my lady,” he told India.
“Put enough wood in there for the night,” she told him. “I don’t want to be frozen in the morning.”
The carters from Glenkirk unloaded the provisions, and, directed by Meggie, brought them into the lodge where the serving woman put them away. There was flour for baking, salt, and spices. Bundles of herbs were hung from the kitchen’s rafters. Several barrels of wine, ale, and apples were stored in the larder along with a large wheel of cheese and two whole hams. Two milk cows had climbed the ben tied to the back of the cart. They were now led into their barn. A coop holding half a dozen chickens and a rooster were uncrated in the yard. A haunch of beef and one of venison were hung in the larder next to the ham. There was even a block of sugar, and a small barrel filled with honeycombs. There was a large fat tomcat to keep the rodent population down, a small collie, and a deer hound for company, protection, and hunting.
“Last chance to go back to Glenkirk,” India said to Fortune as the carts began their return journey. It was past the noon hour, and the sun would set in another two hours.
“I’m starving,” Fortune said, ignoring the invitation. “What’s for dinner?”
“I’ll see what’s in the basket,” Meggie said. “Cook was kind enough to send something along so we would nae hae to fuss today.” She bustled into the kitchen.
“What a treasure,” Fortune noted to her sister. “You were fortunate to find each other. She isn’t any older than we are, is she? What luck she didn’t decide to return to Ayr, India.”
“I don’t think she would have left my service,” India replied, “but when Papa inquired discreetly for her, we found her mother had died suddenly, even before Meggie was captured, and her father killed. Her betrothed, of course, had done exactly as she had anticipated, and wed with his second choice, Meggie’s rival. There was nothing for her to go back to, Fortune.”
Supper was a roasted capon, a rabbit pie reheated in the brick fireplace oven, bread, cheese, and apples. India insisted that Diarmid eat with them at the trestle, dragging two more little chairs from the common room so they might all sit.
“You must go back down to Glenkirk tomorrow,” she told him, “and tell Papa we need carrots, onions, and leeks. We cannot live the winter on just meat, bread, and cheese.”
“Aye, m’lady, but I dinna know why not. ’Tis good food,” the clansman said. “Still, the duke hae told me to humor ye, and so I’ll go for ye. As long as the weather is good, I can fetch up whatever takes yer fancy. Will there be anything else while I’m about it?”
“Pears. They’ll keep in the cold,” India said.
“And conserves,” Fortune added. “And perhaps some jam. I like jam on my bread.”
“Check in the kitchen, Meggie,” India told her servant, “and see if there is anything else you’ll need.”
The clansman nodded, and, having finished his meal, took his leave of the women, saying, “I’ll leave the collie wi ye. Bar the doors both front and back, m’lady. I’ll be sleeping in the stable loft. There’s a wee room there.”
“Will you be warm enough?” India fretted.
“Aye, the room is tight, and I hae the dog for warmth,” he told her with a small smile. Then he was gone out the door, which Meggie shut, and firmly barred.
The three young women slept in the upstairs bedchamber, India and Fortune sharing the big bed, Meggie on the trundle pulled from beneath the bed. The collie lay down at the head of the stairs, as if guarding them until sleep finally claimed her, too.
The following day dawned clear. After a meal of oat cakes and ale, Diarmid More-Leslie went down the ben to Glenkirk to fetch the required items. Meggie began to put her kitchen in order while India and Fortune explored the nooks and crannies of the lodge, discovering an old oak tub in a kitchen recess, and some woman’s clothing in a small trunk in the upstairs hall.
“Do you think they were Mama’s?” India wondered aloud.
“Nay,” Fortune said, admiring the doeskin jerkin with the silver-and-horn buttons she had just pulled out. “Mama wasn’t as long-waisted, and the style is old-fashioned. Besides, Mama never wore such a garment in her entire life. She is far more elegant.” Fortune tried on the jerkin. “I think it may have belonged to Papa’s mother. They say she hid herself up here to avoid marrying her first husband. I think I’ll keep it. I like hunting clothes.”
“It suits you,” India said, smiling at her younger sister. Then she caught her breath suddenly.
“What is it?” Fortune said, seeing a strange look come over her sister’s beautiful face.
“He moved!”
India half whispered. “The baby moved within me, Fortune!” Then she burst into tears as she sat down upon the top step of the staircase. “Damn! Damn! Damn!” she swore softly. “My bairn is alive within me, and his father will never know him. It isn’t fair, Fortune! It just isn’t fair!”
“You have hardly spoken of him since you came home,” Fortune said, sitting down next to her older sister and putting an arm about her. “Did you love him very much, India? What was he like? Was he handsome?”
India sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Aye, he was handsome. He was tall, and had hair like a raven’s wing, and the bluest eyes you have ever seen. His nose was straight, and his jaw firm, and his mouth . . .” She paused a moment, then continued. “His mouth was the most deliciously kissable mouth in all the world.”
“What’s it like being kissed?” Fortune asked.
“Wonderful,” India replied. “I cannot explain it. Someday you will kiss the man you love, and you will understand, Fortune.”
“I suppose so,” Fortune replied matter-of-factly.
Their days took on a comfortable cadence. By virtue of their social status, India and Fortune had never really done a great deal for themselves. Now, however, they arose each morning, and, after dressing, Fortune went down to the barn to gather eggs from their hens and drive the cows into the small pasture on sunny days. Until it snowed, the cows could forage, but once the winter set in, they would be confined to the barn. It became India’s task to set the table for meals and gather up the clothing that would need laundering, but neither of the other two girls wanted India overtaxed for the sake of her child.
Some days Fortune rode off into the forest with Diarmid to hunt for small game. India and Meggie walked in the forest and high meadows most early afternoons. And Meggie cooked and cleaned and did the laundry. The sisters, however, kept the bedchamber neat and dusted. Each morning they shook out their featherbed as Meggie taught them, and then drew the bed clothes back over it smoothly and neatly. Neither had ever done such simple tasks, but it helped to fill the lonely hours. Fortune had requested her lute be sent up from Glenkirk, and on many evenings she played for them, and they sang the old songs of unrequited love, great battles, heroes, and kings. Diarmid had his pipes, and was easily encouraged to play.
Like his brother, Red Hugh, he was a big man of few words, but practical and kindly. His hair was a nut brown, and his eyes an amber hue. He wore a short beard with his hair drawn back, secured by a leather thong. He was popular with the ladies, the sisters knew, but he had never married. The winter would be lonelier for him than for his three female charges, who at least had each other. While deferential to the duke’s two daughters, Diarmid had struck up a budding friendship with Meggie. Up before the first light each dawn, he had the fireplaces blazing and water brought into the kitchen even before Meggie came down to put the bread dough that had been rising all night in the oven to bake. While he spoke little to India and Fortune, Meggie could get him talking, and even bring a rosy flush to the big man’s cheeks.
“You’ve made a conquest,” India teased her maid servant.
“Hummph,” Meggie replied, but she smiled.
Just before Christmas it snowed. They awoke to find the white flakes swirling about the lodge. Diarmid found a Yule log for them in the nearby forest, and dragged it into the little house on Christmas Eve, setting it in the fireplace where it burned merrily for almost two days. They took turns telling the Christmas story, and sang Yule songs. They lit a fire outside on the cliff top on Twelfth Night, and watched as the other fires sprang up for as far as the eye could see, vying to identify the Glenkirk fire first.
Now the winter set in hard. India insisted that Diarmid sleep before the common room fire at night rather than in his stabletop loft. It was just too cold. Even the cows, horses, and poultry were brought into a small shed attached to the lodge on the kitchen side. It was warmer for them there than the stables. The lodge took on an earthy smell, but it did not bother either India or Fortune. Survival was more important.
By February, the days were beginning to grow longer again, but the weather remained cold and snowy. By March, the snow came less frequently, more often than not mixing with the rain. India’s belly was now enormous, and she waddled when she walked, but she never complained. Instead, she would lie upon her bed, her hand protectively cradling her stomach, a dreamy expression upon her face as she wondered what her child would look like. It would be a boy, of course. Her instinct told her that. What would she call him? She knew that Caynan Reis had been a European by birth, but that was all she knew. His origins, and his name remained a mystery to her. If she had known his name, she would have named her child after his father, but she hadn’t a clue.