Resisting the Highlander: A Scottish Romance (11 page)

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H
er eyes flew open as she sucked in a large amount of air. Her head throbbed. She touched her hand to her head, checking for blood. It didn’t feel wet. As she lay gasping for air, taking desperate gulps, she wondered if she’d blacked out for a moment. Suddenly remembering why she’d rolled off her bed in the first place, her eyes darted frantically from side to side. She expected to feel her assailant come at her again, but there was no further attack. After a few moments, she cautiously sat up and looked around in the dim light. No one was there, but the door to the hallway stood open as if someone had left in a hurry.

Frightened, she got up off the floor and closed the bedroom door, slipping the bolt into place.  Listening for any sound and feeling totally unnerved, she lay back down in bed, but no sleep came for the rest of the night.

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A
s the light of day streaked across the sky, she heard the sounds of Robert getting the fire going in the downstairs parlor and Besse bustling around in the kitchen. Getting up slowly, still feeling shaken, she washed her face and hands in cold water from the pitcher on the nightstand that she had almost knocked over in the night.

She dressed hurriedly, and then awakened Margaret in the room down the hall before going downstairs to help Besse with the breakfast. It had been hard to wake Margaret up. Bridget envied her ability to sleep so soundly, something she wasn’t sure she’d ever do again.

Robert was reading by the fire but looked up as she came into the room. “Ah, good morning my dear. Did you have a good sleep?”

“Oh, fairly good, Robert,” she began, “but had a bit of a nightmare, I think. I’ve never experienced anything like that before and can’t imagine what happened. It actually felt someone was trying to suffocate me. I struggled and ended up on the floor.”

Her grandfather looked incredulous, “You mean you fell out of bed, lass?”

“Yes, I actually did, and slammed against the nightstand as I fell. It’s a wonder I didn’t wake everybody up.”

Before they could have further discussion, the others came in for breakfast and Bridget busied herself helping Besse to serve. She scrutinized Besse closely but could see no sign of nervousness about her to indicate guilt. She decided it wasn’t Besse who had come into her room in the night, that or she was very good at hidings her feelings.

She wondered next if it could have been Aidan. He had been terribly angry with her when she turned him down the night before. But still, she didn’t want to think this of him, although he did stand to lose a lot, if she became any more of a favorite with Robert than she already was.  She dismissed any thought of her ailing grandfather or her fragile cousin being behind the night’s attack. She’d more likely believe it was Sarge, or a ghost. She would have to be extra careful from now on.

Margaret sat at the table looking sullen, her face swollen with sleep. She seemed lost in her own world. Bridget presumed she hadn’t gotten over her disappointment at not being able to extend her stay at Ty-Runach.

Bridget became aware of tension at the table when suddenly Robert said, “Did you ever fall out of bed before, Bridget?”

Bridget blushed. “Grandfather!” she exclaimed. Besse would easily have overheard them talking before with her bedroom off the kitchen, but Bridget had not wanted anyone else to know.

Aidan has a slight sneer on his face when he asked, “How could such a thing happen, Bridget? You never take a drink, so you couldn’t have been tipsy. Come on tell us what it’s all about.”

Margaret gave her a dull look. “Why didn’t I hear you, Bridget? Must have been quite a bump when you landed on the floor. Or are you just making that up?”

Bridget was mortified now. She snapped, “Oh, let’s forget the whole thing. I did roll out of bed but there wasn’t any bump and I wasn’t hurt. We ate too much before going to bed, and it upset my stomach, that’s all. I don’t usually do that and wasn’t used to it.”

She looked across the table at Aidan who seemed highly amused, and thought she had better go along with their joking, so they wouldn’t make too much fun of her. Grinning she said, “Anyone want some more tea or toast? I’ll go get the teapot.”

Her grandfather answered with, “You eat something yourself, Bridget, you’ve hardly touched your breakfast.” She thought he sounded concerned. 

“I’m really not hungry.”

Aidan had finished by this time and gotten up from the table to go to work. As he passed her chair he ruffled her hair with his hand, laughing with amusement. 

Making a valiant effort not to show how infuriated she was, she called after him, “Aidan, can Margaret and I come see your animals today before she goes home?” She hoped this would placate her cousin and improve her mood. 

“Of course, Bridget, I told you anytime. Think you can get there without falling down?”

She quickly knotted her serviette and threw it at him, missing him completely as he hurried away laughing heartily.

Almost in tears, she cried out, “Oh, that man, I’d like to try choking him sometime.”

“Now, now, Bridget, that’s no way to talk, Aidan is only joking with you,” Robert said.

“Well, I don’t like it and I don’t have to listen to it.” Jumping up from the table, she ran upstairs to her room, banging the door shut. She fell on the bed crying violently, not caring how childish her outburst was. She was tired of always being polite and proper.

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B
esse came in from the kitchen upon hearing the loud voices, and asked, “What’s the matter wi’ the lassie, sir? She doesn’t seem to be herself today.”

“I don’t know, Besse, but this may be more serious than I thought. Margaret, you stay down here, I must have a talk with Bridget. Help Besse with the cleaning up,” he said authoritatively, his eyes a cold steely blue.

Going upstairs, he knocked on Bridget’s bedroom door before cautiously opening it. She was lying across the bed sobbing softly. She looked up as he entered and sat on the bed beside her.

“Oh, it’s you, Grandfather, I thought it was Margaret,” she said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. She sat up then, legs dangling over the side of the bed, her eyes red from weeping. He put his arm around her shoulders.

“Tell me now, lassie, what really happened last night? I can see it was a lot more serious than any of us realized.”

“Oh, Robert, I’m so ashamed I acted the way I did just now, but in the night it really did feel like someone was trying to suffocate me. If I hadn’t awakened when I did, I might have died. I didn’t sleep all night afterward and was so out of sorts this morning I couldn’t help being nasty when Aidan made fun of me. I’m so terribly sorry. Do you think he or Besse dislike me enough to try something like that?”

“Now, now, lassie, that’s utterly ridiculous. They have both grown to like you very much in the few months you have been here. You are overwrought because we were laughing about it, and I’m sure it was just a bad dream.”

“I hope so, Grandfather, but it was very frightening and seemed so real. I hope it never happens again.”

“All right now, lass, let’s see a smile on your bonny face. Come down when you are ready and we’ll go for a stroll in the fresh air. It’s a beautiful day and we should take advantage of it. We don’t get too many of them, as you well know.”

“Robert, you are a dear man and always know the right thing to say. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, my child but hurry now. Wash your face and get dressed before the day is half done.”

Bridget laughed happily, much consoled now and decided it had been just a nightmarish experience she had in the night. Robert went down the stairs slowly, a worried look on his face. He thought to himself that certain people around the castle would bear close watching. He had never expected anything like this and didn’t think Bridget would have made so much of it if it were only a bad dream. He knew jealousy was a terrible thing and people had been driven to commit murder  because of it. He must protect Bridget at all costs without her being aware of it.

Going to the kitchen door, he said, “Besse, I’m going to the stables. Tell Bridget to meet me there when she comes down.” Turning to Margaret, he asked, “Would you like to walk with your cousin and me?”

“Oh, sir, if you don’t mind I’d rather go to the stables and see the work they do with the horses.” She smiled shyly. “I also want to talk to Sandy before I go home.”

“You may not find him with the animals, lass, I think he is due to take care of the machinery up in the lighthouse but suit yourself. I would like your time with us to be as happy as possible.”

“Thank you, Mr. MacDonald, and I especially thank you for having me here.”

“It was your cousin’s idea, my dear, she thinks an awful lot of you.”

“Yes, I know. She has always been very kind to me and I love her for it. She is so talented and beautiful, I wish I were more like her.”

“Much of Bridget’s beauty comes from within, Margaret. She has a good heart and is a fine person.”

Margaret headed to the bedroom to dress as Robert went in the opposite direction.

B
ridget was ready to go meet her grandfather. As she went to the door to go downstairs, her cousin laid a restraining hand on her arm. “What was that talk all about it?” Margaret asked.

“I’d rather not talk about it anymore. I just had a bad dream.” She decided it would never do to let Margaret know of her suspicions. If she did, it would be all over town in no time.

Margaret let her go and Bridget headed downstairs to the kitchen to see if there was anything she could do for Besse before going out. She found her in a more jovial mood.

“Ah, Miss Bridget, you are a good lass, but thank you, no. I’m just fine, your cousin helped me with the cleaning up.”

“That’s fine, Besse. I don’t want to give you one bit of extra work on our account. I’m going for a walk with Grandfather now.”

“Wait, lassie,” she said. Going to the table, Besse picked up a small package. She handed it to Bridget, and said, “Here’s a few biscuits to take with you, the sea air might make you hungry since you didn’t eat very much this morning.”

She looked at Bridget’s wan face with an odd expression. “Thank you, Besse,” answered Bridget wondering if this was all part of an act.

Then Margaret called out, “You ready to go, Bridget?”

“Yes, cousin, let’s be on our way. Robert is probably waiting for me.”

The two girls were dressed in ankle length tartan skirts. Margaret’s was topped with a red wool jersey, the color giving a bit of life to her rather colorless face. Bridget’s jersey was white wool with a matching cap. She was in a joyous mood as she said, “I’m going to take off my shoes and stockings, and walk in the water when we get to the cove. What about you?”

“I’m not going with you. I already told your grandfather I’m going to the stables to have a talk with Sandy, and he said it was all right.”

“Well, it’s all right with me too if that’s what you want. This is your last day here, and you may as well enjoy it any way you want.”

“Oh, Bridget, couldn’t I stay longer? I love it here so much.”

“Afraid not, Margaret,” Bridget said, repressing a discourteous remark. “You have had a nice visit and the longer you stay, the harder it will be for you to leave. You know you cannot stay here forever. Besides, I have been neglecting my music studies and must get back to them again.”

Margaret’s face was crest fallen, and although Bridget had compassion for her, she also thought that she wouldn’t be quick to invite her back if she were going to act like this.

Robert met them before they reached the stables. As she went off with him, Bridget jokingly admonished her cousin, “Don’t get into mischief, now, and I’ll see you a bit later.”

Margaret said nothing, just looked at the receding figures of Bridget and Robert with a blank stare, and then headed for the stables in search of either Sandy or Aidan.

Before they reached the water, Bridget spied Aidan astride a beautiful stallion and had to admire how well he sat his mount. He was walking the horse in the salty ocean water, and both animal and rider seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

As she and her grandfather came closer, he walked the horse out of the water and came towards them. Bridget exclaimed excitedly, “What a beautiful creature, Aidan! I haven’t seen him before. Did you just get him?”

“No, lass, he was bred and raised here before you came to us. Then, he was sold to some folks out in the country, but has always been a bit wild and gave them lots of trouble. So, he came back to us.”

“I would never sell him if he were mine, Aidan, he is such a bonny beast. May I pet him?”

“He’s a bit skittish, but maybe he will let you. Some people he takes to more than others.”

She approached the animal timidly and laid her hand on his neck, murmuring softly to him.

“I think he likes you, Bridget,” said Robert, “but be careful.”

“Oh, Grandfather, I hope he likes me. I surely like him.”

“Here, Bridget,” said Aidan, holding out his hand, “give him this sugar and you’ve made a friend.”

He smiled down on her as she reached for it, his hand touching hers, bringing a warm feeling where he touched. She looked up into his smiling face momentarily. “How do I give it to him?”

“Just hold it in the palm of your hand, and he’ll pick it up. Keep your hand flat though so he doesn’t get your fingers by mistake.”

She approached the horse again, holding out her hand. His big yellow teeth looked scary to her, but she held her ground, and he gently picked up the sugar lumps with his lips. When he was through crunching it, she put her hand on his neck and patted him.

“Oh, you are a black beauty.”

Robert and Aidan looked pleased and smiled to each other. Aidan spoke, “I have to take him back now, Bridget. enjoy your walk.”

“Thank you, Aidan, we will. Robert, wait up a bit, I want to take off my shoes and stockings.”

“Before you do that, lass, what say ye to taking a different road today, down by the rocks where the old wine tower stands?”

“Let’s do that. I’ve been wanting to ask you about that old building. No one seems to know much about it anymore, or what it was ever used for. Through the years it has become just a legend.”