Authors: Gwen Kirkwood
The following morning when Sir William heard what had happened with Snodd he sought Isabella out.
‘Are you sure you were not injured, my dear?’
‘I am fine thank you. Duncan had warned me. He got the worst of it.’
‘Yes, I see his face is badly bruised. He is a good lad but I don’t think I should be entrusting you to someone so young with men like Snodd about.’
‘I feel perfectly safe with Duncan,’ Isabella laughed. ‘As for Mr Snodd it will be a while before he plays vile tricks again.’
‘He never forgets a grudge. His father was the same. You would be safe if you were to marry me. He would not dare to harm my wife.’
‘M-marry you…’ Isabella repeated faintly. The colour drained from her face.
‘Haven’t I always looked after you and treated you kindly, Isabella?’
‘Y-yes, of course and – and I am grateful, b-but I do not want to marry. You promised Henry you would not force me to marry again.’
‘And I shall not break my promise to a dying man. I am not forcing you.’ His tone hardened and his blue eyes glinted, no longer twinkling and kind. ‘But I am telling you it would be better for you if you see things my way.’ He reached for her hand to draw her closer but Isabella resisted.
‘I don’t want to marry you. You are grandfather to my children.’
‘I am not so old that I could not sire another son to take Henry’s place, maybe several sons with a young and robust wife. Twice I have been denied…’
‘You craved for a grandson. You have Alex.’
‘Many children die. There would be safety in numbers.’
‘No!’ Isabella gasped. ‘Alex must not die. I take good care of him. He is healthy and strong. He will grow to manhood and follow in your footsteps.’
‘You have no one except me to watch over you and your children. Consider what I say, Isabella and consider well.’
Was he threatening her? Isabella ran from him and she kept on running up the spiral stairs until she arrived breathless in the safety of her own room, but was she safe, even here? He might not force her to marry him but would he come to her some night without warning?
***
Father Oliver’s health had deteriorated quicker than he had expected. The cold spell of weather showed signs of a severe winter and he sent for Father Barron.
‘I would like you to travel to Moyenstane Tower before the winter sets in.’
‘But if the winter is a harsh one, as you are predicting, Father, I may have to stay there until the spring. What good could I do there? The children are still too young to need me as their tutor.’
‘I believe your presence will reassure Isabella and as a priest it will be a deterrent to Sir William.’
‘A deterrent? What sort of deterrent’
‘Zander feared Sir William would try to persuade Isabella to marry him, even though she has given him a grandson. You are a man of God. Although Sir William feigns impatience of our teachings and would like to shun us and deny God, he fears for his own soul. He is superstitious, although he would not admit to such weakness. You would be a constant reminder of the promise he made to his son.’
‘What promise?’
‘Henry asked his father to promise he would not force Isabella to marry again. He will keep a deathbed promise I think, but If she agrees to marry of her own free will that would be a different matter. While Zander is absent Sir William may try every persuasion.
Father Barron was reluctant to set out for Moyenstane Tower, knowing he would not be a welcome visitor and would have to spend the winter there but he had given his word to Father Oliver. The week after the old priest’s funeral he set out on his journey west, with Father Oliver’s donkey tethered behind his horse. The pannier baskets were filled with packets of herbs and medicinal brews, spice and seeds, books and paper, all as his mentor had instructed.
Isabella welcomed Father Barron warmly and, young though they were, her children followed her example, as did Nell and young Duncan. The two little girls sought him out whenever they could, pleading with him to show them games, draw them pictures or tell them stories. When the weather was suitable they followed him out to the garden and listened attentively when he told them stories of plants and animals. He was surprised at Isabella’s knowledge of the herbs and her eagerness to learn all he could tell her about healing and medicines. She asked if he would teach Nell and Duncan their letters and to write their names.
‘But Sir William?’ Father Barron said in consternation when she first mentioned this, ‘He does not consider servants should be able to read and write. Most of the Clan Chiefs feel the same. It is as though they are afraid the devil will enter them and make them rebels.’
‘I know but my father disagreed. Not all of our servants wanted to learn but he thought they should be given the opportunity to learn to read. Sam, the man who first brought me here and acted as my guide over the marshland, could write a little and he could read the bible and add up figures. I would like Nell and Duncan to do the same so that they will be able to read the labels of the
medicines.’
‘I see, now I understand.’ He smiled. ‘I am sure opportunities can be made,’ Father Barron was pleased that his time at Moyenstane Tower would not be entirely wasted. ‘And speaking of counting, your daughters can already count their fingers and toes I see. I may be able to teach them their letters while I am here.’
Christmas was a happier time than any Isabella had spent since she had been away from her family. Father Barron was happy to lead the services in the local church in place of their local priest who was getting old and troubled with a persistent cough whenever he talked for more than a few minutes. The children were delighted with the small wooden stable which Father Barron constructed and they helped Nell make a thatched roof. Duncan helped him to carved some sheep and other wooden animals while Father Barron quietly seized every opportunity to teach them numbers and letters as they worked. He made a donkey himself and small wooden figures for Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and three wise men. Nell sewed simple clothes for them from the bag of material pieces which Isabella kept for mending and patching. Even Alex enjoyed helping his sisters arrange and re-arrange the animals, learning to count as they played.
Shortly after Christmas a mild spell of weather allowed them all outdoors again and Mamie was delighted when she found the tiny white flowers beneath the fruit bushes.
‘These are snowdrops,’ Father Barron told her. ‘They are the first flowers of the year and a sign that beneath the hard cold earth other plants are beginning to grow.’ Sir William rarely ventured into the garden but he too, was tempted by the mild spell of weather.
‘It is a sign that spring is on the way,’ he said, ‘So, Father, you will be setting out on your journey to the monastery tomorrow? Or perhaps the day after?’ Father Barron looked surprised, then he flushed. The look in the Clan Chief’s cold blue eyes told him he was not expected to prolong his visit.
‘We don’t want Father Barron to go away,’ Nettie said and seized his hand. Following her sister’s example, Mamie agreed and seized his other hand. Isabella smiled but her father-in-law scowled.
‘I fear this mild weather is no more than a pretence that winter is over. I believe the worst is still to come and I would not like to be caught in a snow storm on my journey,’ Father Barron said quietly but firmly. Both he and Isabella knew that Sir William was not pleased. Tension returned. He called Isabella to his side after they had eaten their evening meal.
‘You are spending too much time in the company of the priest,’ he said severely. ‘It is unseemly. He is not a good influence on my grandchildren. I am ordering you to keep them away from him.’ Isabella frowned.
‘I cannot agree. He is exceedingly good for them. They listen and learn when he talks to them or tells them stories.’
‘I will tell them the sort of stories they ought to hear.’
‘No,’ Isabella protested. ‘They are too young and I don’t want them to hear of your adventures when you raided and stole other men’s cattle.’ She blushed ‘And I hope they never hear of the things fighting men did to mothers and sisters.’ She turned on her heel and strode away. He called her back but she did not pause.
‘That priest has to go,’ he muttered to Lizzie, and anyone else who might be listening. ‘He is a bad influence.’
‘He’s right about the weather though,’ Walter said. He had been supervising the work and animals belonging to Sir William at Moyenstane Tower during Zander’s absence and had stayed for a discussion with his father-in-law during the evening meal. Now he would have to ride home in the dark. Anna was expecting their third baby and he wanted to get back to her. He wished Zander would return. Henry had been an efficient organizer and done more work than any of them had realised. Walter felt it was too much for him on his own in addition to the land and animals belonging to his own family. It was always a struggle as the winter wore on to make sure there was enough food to keep the animals alive. ‘We shall probably be snowed in within a couple of days. That is why I came down today to make sure everything is prepared. I am going home to Anna now. I hope the baby does not come early. She is hoping Isabella will be with her when her time comes.’
‘Take her back with you now then,’ Sir William snapped.
‘Tonight? In the dark? I would not ask her to do that. The children need her here and Anna is not due to give birth until after the next full moon.’
A couple of days later Walter’s prophecy came true and they awoke to a world covered in several feet of snow. Tensions grew. Every pair of hands was needed and Father Barron was no slacker when it came to physical work. He and Duncan spent hours breaking through thick ice to get water for the animals, only to find it had frozen again by evening. Their hands were cut and raw but neither of them complained. Sir William was cantankerous and grumbled constantly, but he could not fault the young priest, nor could he criticize Isabella’s management of the kitchens. Young though she was she managed to vary their food and make tasty dishes of stews and broths.
Eventually the snows began to melt and the days grew longer. The animals were allowed outside a few at a time to drink freely at the burn, while the horses were led to the big trough beside the well which could now be filled each day without fear of it freezing within the hour.
Father Barron was pleased to escape from the tensions of the Tower for an hour or so. He saddled his horse and rode west along the glen. He went alone, needing peace. Sheep were foraging for food amongst the rocks and ledges higher on the hills and he knew they too would be enjoying the improvement in the weather and the approach of spring. He was surprised when he came upon a half built house beside a burn. It stood alone, some distance from Moyenstane Tower. He dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree so that he could take a better look. The outer walls were stone and of sturdy construction. The roof was already wind and water tight. It would be quite large when it was finished. It was in a beautiful situation. Presumably the work had been halted by the freezing conditions. It was such a tranquil spot. He bent to drink from the clear water of the burn as it gurgled along over the pebbles.
He had not ridden far on his return journey when he saw a man carefully guiding his horse down a steep track through the hills from the north. As he drew nearer Father Barron recognised Walter. The two men greeted each other pleasantly before the young priest commented on the house.
‘The Long Glen originally belonged to the Latimer family. Sir William took it over when he returned because both Mr and Mrs Latimer were dead and Zander was a young child. The house is supposed to be a secret, but I reckon you’re good at keeping secrets, Father?’
Zander had spent the past few months experiencing both frustration and elation. He liked and respected his partner and he understood when Captain Murray was dismayed and anxious when he heard Zander wanted to withdraw from their partnership so soon. He had looked forward to another journey to the east and bringing back more profitable cargoes with a fellow Scotsman who could stay sober and knew how to bargain. He had promised his nephew he could join them and the young man would be sorely disappointed.
‘There are few men with money to buy half a ship, my friend,’ he said to Zander, ‘except the three powerful traders who expect to own a man’s life and soul, as well as all the profits. We did well to unload our cargo in London, well away from the markets they try to control. I was looking forward to our next journey together.’
‘I have a more precious cargo awaiting my return,’ Zander said with a grin.
‘A woman! It has to be a woman to make your blue eyes sparkle like that,’ Captain Murray groaned. ‘What else could tempt a man like you to give up a life of adventure almost before it has begun. Why is she so special, this temptress?’
‘She was the wife of my cousin, at least in name, but I wanted her from the moment I set eyes on her.’
‘Yet you left her behind?’
‘Her husband was a good man. I needed to get far away to avoid temptation. As you know I hadn’t intended to return for some years. Fate guided my footsteps.’
‘’Twas more like the wind drove us to England,’ Murray said drily.
‘I learned that Isabella is a widow and she loves me as I love her.’
‘So now you sell your share in our ship to keep a wife.’
‘Yes. She is under my uncle’s protection. I may need all the money I can raise if I need to fight him for her.’ Zander’s mouth tightened and his blue eyes glittered. ‘I want to be with her night and day. I need to be there to protect her when I make her my wife.’
‘Humph, it will not be easy to find a trustworthy man who can bargain like you and with enough money to buy your share.’ The captain pushed back his hat and rubbed his brow. ‘I promised my nephew, Karel Gersen, he could sail with us on our next voyage to the east. He would have made the best partner to take your place, my friend, but he is young and he has yet to make his fortune.’
‘Gersen? Is that your widowed sister’s son? You talked of him often.’
‘He is like a son to me. He and my sister are all the family I have left.’
‘I see,’ Zander said slowly. Captain Murray had taken him to visit his sister before they sailed for the east. She had made them welcome and fed them well. Her house had been the finest Zander had ever seen, with fine wood furniture gleaming in the lamplight and curtains and cushions of silk. There were even painted pictures hung on the walls in scrolled gilt frames. Zander remembered how much he had longed to describe such things to Isabella.
‘I remember your nephew,’ he said. ‘He had been working all day unloading a large cargo and checking it into the warehouse.’
‘He has had good experience in that side of things. The owner is a formidable man, with wide influence, but Karel is good at his job. He has…’ he tapped his temple, ‘he has a good memory and he thinks for himself.’
‘I understand,’ Zander said. ‘The owner will not want to lose him. You think he could not raise the money to buy my share in the ship? Or even half of it?’
‘Half of it?’ The captain eyed him shrewdly.’
You would sell a part of your share if he could borrow the money from his mother?’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘You would be content to sell a quarter of the ship and own a quarter?’
‘Something like that,’ Zander replied cautiously. ‘
Perhaps for a time, until your nephew could repay his mother and make his own fortune to buy the rest of my share.’ It was not something he had considered but it was the best suggestion either of them had conceived so far. ‘There would be conditions though…’ Zander added. ‘I should need the profit from a quarter of the cargo too, and you might not like the cargo I suggest. It is one which might make money for your nephew in the future.’
‘Now you talk in riddles,’ Captain Murray sighed. ‘Give me twenty four hours to talk with Margarita and Karl. If they can raise the money we will talk again, eh?’
Captain Murray was back before nightfall of the next day to invite Zander to his sister’s house.
‘Margarita invites you to eat with us tonight, and to stay overnight. I warn you my friend, she is a shrewd woman and protective of her only son, both his safety and his fortune. She wants time to consider and to ask questions.’ Zander was pleased to accept. He looked forward to seeing the home of the Gersens again. He would ask Margarita’s advice on materials and anything else she could recommend him to take back for Isabella to furnish the home he planned to share with her. He knew he was as possessive by nature as the man who had sired him. Almost the only thing they did not share was their name. Always Zander felt a bitterness in his heart when he considered he had been robbed of his true status.
That evening they ate at a polished wooden table, quite different from the pine trestle back at Moyenstane Tower. On it stood two gold coloured stands holding several candles in each and the flickering flames gleamed in the shining surface of the table. They also had silver spoons and porcelain plates, instead of the metal or wooden platters they used back home. Although his hostess was small in stature and a little plump she was beautifully dressed in a gown of blue silk overlaid by a bodice and skirt richly embroidered in gold thread. Her head dress was also embroidered in gold and it almost covered her thick fair hair. She had a gracious manner and still retained a slightly Scottish accent although she had lived in Holland since she was a young bride of seventeen.
‘We shall eat first and then retire to discuss business,’ she said firmly, with a quelling glance at her son, Karel. The young man was impatient to get on with discussions but he bowed his head in acquiescence and gave a slight smile towards Zander. He was a handsome looking young man with his mother’s fair skin and blue twinkling eyes, but he had the same reddish gold hair as his uncle. There were only the four of them at the table but several servants were on hand to keep the dishes filled with a plentiful supply of stew containing tender lamb and vegetables. Zander had never seen bread so light in colour it was almost white, a sign that only the very best wheaten flour had been used. There was a plentiful supply of fresh fruits, as well as cheese and sweetmeats and a very fine brandy. Zander drank sparingly though. Although he trusted his friend, he knew he must keep all his wits about him if he wanted to complete a deal for the sale of the ship and get back to Isabella. He needed a sharp mind to negotiate some of the profits from cargoes if he left part of his fortune in the venture.
After the meal they retired to another room. The door was firmly closed and the servants instructed not to disturb them until Mistress Gersen rang for refreshments. Zander has not seen this room on his last visit and the furnishings almost took his breath away. The windows were much wider than any he had seen before and they were covered now by long curtains in dark blue velvet. There were several chairs with fixed cushions upholstered to the polished wooden frames, something else Zander had not seen before. Various treasures were displayed on small tables around the room.
‘If we reach an agreement you will not be carrying home the sort of cargo your sister will welcome as gifts for display,’ he said wryly.
‘My main concern will be the safe return of Karel,’ Margarita Gersen said crisply. ‘He is my greatest treasure. He has good employment handling and dispatching cargos. I wish he did not want to go to sea, but his father and grandfather were sea captains. It is in his blood. If he must go I would prefer that he went with a captain I can trust.’ She smiled warmly at her brother. Murray winked at Zander and replenished their brandy. Zander picked up his glass and held it to the candle light, admiring the workmanship.
‘I would like to take back some glasses like these as a gift,’ he said.
‘Karel will help you find them,’ Margarita said at once. ‘He knows all the traders who bring things into the Netherlands as well as the things they take out.’
‘His contacts may be a help to us,’ his uncle mused, ‘if you can agree a deal to buy a quarter of the ship.’
‘I think Karel will be able to find the money to buy half of your share in my brother’s ship,’ Margarita said slowly. They fell to discussing the value of the ship plus the money to cover maintenance which Captain Murray and Zander had agreed must be set aside from the beginning of their partnership. Zander soon realised all this had been discussed within the family but the subsequent offer was more generous than he had expected.
Before he agreed however he said firmly, ‘If I am still to own a quarter of the ship I would like to have some say in the cargoes she carries, and her destination. We were fortunate on our last voyage. We did not get blown too far off course, nor were we becalmed too long through lack of wind.’
‘Aah yes, you mentioned a mysterious cargo,’ Captain Murray said. ‘If it is your Scottish wool you are thinking of I would be happy to handle it. It is in great demand in France, and in Germany, but it would not be enough to keep us busy all year…’
‘But that would be much better than sailing round Africa with all the risks of a long sea voyage to India or China,’ Margarita interrupted eagerly, looking from her son to Zander.
‘Wool was not the only cargo I had in mind,’ Zander said. He turned to Captain Murray. ‘Have you seen the shiny black rock they call coal? It is found in the ground in parts of Scotland and the North of England, and maybe other places too, but for our trade we need it near a northern port. I’m told it is good for use with iron working and in demand in Germany and here in the Netherlands, also in Italy.’
‘Yes, that is true,’ Karel agreed, sitting up straight, very alert. ‘I have not seen many cargoes yet, and the company I work for has never handled it, but ships belonging to Mr Bockholt and Mr Opperman have come into port loaded with it.’
‘If old Opperman considers it is worth carrying across the North Sea there must be money to be made,’ John Murray said.
‘And you would not be away so long each voyage,’ Margarita said, her eyes pleading with her brother. He knew how much she dreaded Karel being away at sea and not seeing him for months, even years, but it was what his nephew longed to do and neither of them could hold him back for ever.
‘It could be worth trying,’ he said at last. ‘But I also have a condition, Zander. If we are to try something so new I would ask that you make the first journey with us, help us find and bargain for this coal, and sail with us to Germany or France until we see how it will sell.’
‘I see…’ Zander frowned. He longed to return to Moyenstane Tower and Isabella, although he knew she would not expect him to return until the spring. ‘I suppose I could do that,’ he agreed reluctantly, ‘but when I have found contacts in Newcastle and delivered the first cargo, I must leave you both to deal with the cargoes.’
‘That would be all right, wouldn’t it, Uncle?’ Karel said eagerly. ‘When we land in England I could mingle with the other drunken sailors and listen and ask questions to find out where they sell their cargoes.
‘Drunken sailors…’
‘It’s all right, Mama,’ Karel grinned. ‘I shall only pretend to be drunk, or stupid, or whatever it takes to gain knowledge.’ His eyes sparkled at the thought of the adventures ahead.
‘I think you’ll find the life a lot harder than you think, my boy,’ his uncle warned.
‘At least there will be some excitement, and who knows?’ he added with a grin at his mother, ‘I may be like my father and find the prettiest girl in port for my wife.’
‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ his mother said, but she blushed prettily.
Zander knew he would not have as large a fortune as he had expected, but he still owned a quarter of the ship and both Captain Murray and his nephew were happy with the arrangement. He was convinced he could trust them to deal fairly in his absence and he would still have a small income if he and Isabella were forced to leave Moyenstane Tower. His heart sank at the prospect of leaving the land of his birth and all his friends, but Isabella and their children meant more to him than anything else in the world. Sir William would lose too if he let his stubborn pride drive them away.
Meanwhile he negotiated directly with two of the owners of coalmines instead of going through merchants. Captain Murray was pleased with the deals.
‘I wish we could persuade you to stay with us, my friend,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Your handsome face and youthful charm struck the deal for the second cargo.’
‘It was a fair bargain,’ Zander protested, laughing.
‘Maybe, but it was the wife who favoured us. She is hoping to see you again, I think.’
‘It is young Karel you’ll need to watch,’ Zander chuckled. ‘The first merchant had a very pretty daughter.’ His face sobered. ‘He made a good job as a drunken sailor. He’s young but he’s shrewd. He has discovered all we needed to know about our destination to sell the cargo.’ He sighed. ‘I suppose you still want me to accompany you to Germany and France, instead of returning to claim my wife?’
‘We would benefit from your skills for our first trip, Zander,’ Captain Murray said seriously. He prided himself on being first class as ship’s captain but Zander had a clear head and a fair mind when it came to buying and selling. He seemed to have an inborn charm too, which both men and women found pleasing. ‘Never mind, my friend, your lovely Isabella will forgive your delay when she sees all the pretty trinkets and materials Margarita is buying for you to take back to her. You will need to hire six donkeys to carry it all.’ He chuckled and slapped Zander on the back.