Days of Gold

  “Engaged to marry,” she said, this time louder. It wasn’t exactly the truth, since James hadn’t asked her yet, but she knew he would.

  “That engagement is broken,” her uncle said at last. “You’re going to marry one of these men. Care to choose now?”

  “No!” Edilean said as she backed away from the three of them.

  “We’ll wait then,” her uncle said, then turned away, as though there was to be no more discussion.

  “Excuse me, sir!” she said. “I am not going to marry either of these—” She looked them up and down with all the contempt she felt, and lowered her voice. “My father’s will says I may marry a man of my own choosing and I certainly don’t choose either of these... men.”

  “You will do what I say,” her uncle said, and raised his hand in dismissal.

  “I will not!” Edilean shouted at him. She’d spent most of her life in boarding schools, and she was fed up with people telling her when and how she was to do things.

  “You will,” Neville Lawler said, “and if you try to get out of it, I’ll make your life such a misery that you’ll wish you’d never been born. And if you tell any of these nosy Scots about this, I’ll make you sorry. Now get out of my sight!”

  The two men beside him looked at Edilean in triumph. The younger one gave her a look up and down that told her what he wanted from her.

  Turning, she fled the room.

  After that day, war between her and her uncle was declared. Edilean wrote a letter to James and told him the horrific circumstances that had befallen her. But her uncle took the letter from Morag, whom Edilean had given it to to post, and that night read it back to her with great drama in front of the two men, Ballister and Alvoy; then he threw it into the fire.

  “You’d better reconcile yourself to your fate,” her uncle said. “You’re here now and you’ll stay here. The gold your father left is being sent to me two days before your birthday. It will never leave here. As for you, you will do whatever your husband wants you to do.” This made the three men laugh heartily.

  Edilean spent the rest of the day in her room and realized that it was up to her to save herself.

  When Morag brought Edilean her dinner on a tray, she made sure the softhearted woman saw her weeping. “Oh, miss, what ails you?”

  “I’ve had a quarrel with the man I love,” Edilean said. “I wrote him an apology but my uncle says he doesn’t deserve such concern. My uncle tore my letter up.” Edilean was watching Morag and saw the color flush her neck. So! It looked like Morag felt some guilt at having the letter that had been entrusted to her taken away.

  “You write him again and I’ll be sure it gets to London,” Morag said.

  “You won’t let my uncle see it?”

  “Trust me. I won’t come between lovers. I was young once.”

  “And I’ll bet you had lots of beaux.”

  Morag smiled. “In those days the laird liked me, but he married someone else.”

  “The laird?”

  “The chief.”

  “Oh, I see,” Edilean said, but she was too busy composing her letter to James in her head to listen. One thing that she’d seen when her uncle read her first letter aloud was that it was too dramatic, too full of danger and warnings. Her next letter would be calmer, just stating the facts, and telling James everything she knew, including what her uncle said about the gold being brought to Scotland.

  She sealed the letter and gave it to Morag, praying that the woman wouldn’t betray her and give it to her uncle. When Edilean heard nothing from her uncle about the letter, she hoped it had gone through.

  Besides appealing to James for help, Edilean decided to try to make her uncle see reason. For days, Edilean argued with him, and she soon learned how far she could push him before he got so exasperated that he raised his hand to her. He never hit her, but that was only because she learned to duck and run quickly.

  Outside the tower, or “keep” as she learned it was called, the Scottish people were extremely nice to her. Every day she went riding. On the first day, she tried to escape, planning to ride all the way to London by herself, but her uncle came after her. For all that he was fat and rarely moved, he was a great horseman. He sat atop his big hunter as though he’d been born on it, and he grabbed her reins and halted her. “You try that again and I’ll have your mare shot,” he said, and she knew he meant it.

  For weeks, she behaved herself and waited. She had arguments with her uncle, and since he was always careful that the doors were closed, Edilean got the idea that he knew that if she asked the Scots for help they might give it.

  A boy, Tam, about fifteen, was assigned to help her on and off her horse every day, and after her escape attempt, he rode a pony behind her. But Edilean knew he couldn’t help her. He was too young, too inexperienced.

  But sometimes she saw another Scotsman in the background, and he looked strong enough that he might be able to help. She didn’t know what she was going to need, but, somehow, she was going to have to escape, and she meant to take her father’s gold with her.

  The man’s name was Shamus, and she saw the way others got out of his way when he walked by. If she was going to get away from her uncle, she would need someone like him.

  As the days passed, she stopped fighting with her uncle and began, instead, to ask him questions. What she wanted to know was when the gold was coming in and how it was going to be transported. He wasn’t fooled by her questions and told her to get away from him.

  More days passed and there was still no word from James. Had she mistaken him? Did he not want her and her dowry? Was he shrugging his broad shoulders and letting her go?

  She seemed to be at the depths of her depression when a man she’d never seen before, a man as tall and as big as James, but with thick black hair that he didn’t tie back, and a beard that looked as though it had never been cut in his life, loosened the cinch on her horse and sent her flying onto the stones. Wasn’t her life bad enough without some man playing hurtful tricks on her? She looked at the shortness of his outrageous garment—something she’d never seen before—and spat some cutting remarks at him. She was glad that when she walked away everyone started laughing at him.

  Later, she was angry about what the man had done, but she didn’t tell her uncle about him. She liked the Scots and didn’t want to betray them. Because there was one bad apple didn’t mean that the others were rotten. Besides, everyone she spoke to told her who the man was and that he would never hurt her. They wouldn’t say who had cut her cinch, just that it wasn’t the bearded man.

  For days Edilean’s life stayed in the routine she’d developed. But every day she grew more nervous and more frightened as she waited for some word from James. Had he received her letter? Maybe he was in France now and the letter was waiting for him in London. Maybe when he received it, she would already be married.

  When it got down to four days before her birthday and there was still no letter, Edilean was so jumpy that she nearly screamed at every sound. Morag asked her what was wrong, but Edilean couldn’t tell her.

  When she went out for her ride, her escort was the man Shamus, and she was glad of it. Maybe she could talk to him and tell him... She didn’t know what she could tell him. She was sure he could get her away from there, but then what? She had no relatives to go to, and her friends were still in school, too young to help.

  As she sat in the bushes and sketched, as she did every day, she was nearly scared to death by the hairy-faced man jumping out at her. When he shouted, “You are found out!” Edilean wondered why she didn’t die from shock right then and there. She thought he meant that her uncle had found out that she’d written a letter to James.

  After the man jumped up and yelled at her, he ran away as though he were five years old. She’d called for Shamus and he came running, but he only saw the man disappearing into the bushes.

  “He’s the man who made me fall off my horse,” she said.

  “Oh, aye, that he is. A tru
e terror with the women. I wouldn’t get too near him if I were you. He’s not right in the head, if you know what I mean.”

  “Where’s he going now?”

  “Back to the keep to tell everyone how scared you looked when he jumped out at you. He wants to make them laugh at you.”

  “Oh, he does, does he?” She started running for her horse, Shamus right behind her. He easily lifted her onto the saddle, and she took off, using trails that she’d persuaded Tam to show her. He’d been told to keep to the road, but Edilean had smiled and coaxed him into showing her the more secret ways.

  When she got back to the keep, the man was already there, and she was pleased to see that no one was laughing at having heard how she’d jumped when he’d leaped from the bushes. She slid off her horse and it was as though weeks of frustration and rage came out and she unleashed them on him. She was so angry she could think of few words to say, but she kicked him hard in the shin, then hit him with the whip. She’d meant to hit his arm, which was covered by a thick shirt, but he’d bent and the whip hit his neck, cutting him.

  She was on the verge of feeling sorry for having done it when he picked her up and dropped her into a horse trough. Yet again, the only consolation she had was that the people seemed to be on her side. Dear Morag helped her up the stairs and Edilean went straight to her uncle to tell him what the man had done to her.

  She didn’t know what she expected from her uncle, but for him to laugh at her and side with the hairy man wearing what Edilean considered women’s clothing was not it. She left the room, trying not to let the laughing men see her tears.

  But the man who was making her life worse than it already was followed her to the roof. She didn’t know what it was about him, maybe because it was so close to her birthday, and because the man was the chief of the McTerns, but in spite of Shamus’s warning, she blurted out the truth about everything and asked him to help her escape.

  To her horror, the man started laughing at her.

  She ran from him, slammed the door behind her and bolted it, locking him on the roof. She was so angry that if she could have, she would have thrown him off the roof and watched him splatter on the stones below.

  The next morning she awoke with the words “three days” in her mind. It was just three days until her birthday and the end of her life as she knew it.

  And now, as she sat on the floor, wanting her life to be over, the door opened and Morag entered. “It’s here,” she said as she handed Edilean not just a letter from James but a package.

  “Does anyone know?”

  “No one. The letter was given to me and only I saw it. You go on and read it now. Mayhap it will cheer you.”

  “Yes,” Edilean said, but she didn’t open the package until Morag left the room. Inside was a little bottle with a stopper in it and a red wax seal.

  “Darling,” James wrote. “I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to get back to you, but I’ve put a plan in motion. It has taken me a long while to find out what I needed to know, but I did it. You shall repay me for this with kisses.”

  Edilean held the letter to her breast for a moment and closed her eyes. He did love her!

  “You must do exactly as I tell you,” he wrote. “You must follow my instructions exactly or the plan won’t work. You can’t vary it by even an hour, as everything is timed precisely. Do you understand me?”

  Even though she was alone in the room, Edilean nodded, then read on.

  4

  HER BIRTHDAY IS tomorrow.”

  “What?” Malcolm asked his nephew as he scooped out a load of oats.

  “Her birthday. It’s tomorrow.”

  “Oh, aye. Her. You know, do you not, that she has a name?”

  “I heard it, but I don’t remember it.” Angus had been out all night, searching out cattle and checking that none had been stolen. But as he roamed the hills, he kept counting down the hours until Lawler’s niece would have to marry one of those demons Lawler called friends. When it came to the moment, which one would she choose? Old Ballister or the young, bad-tempered Alvoy? That night, Angus had tossed about in his plaid as he’d imagined her alone with one of them.

  She’d asked Angus for help—but he’d laughed at her. That thought had haunted him for the last two days. Now, in the afternoon, sitting in the stable and watching Malcolm work, he still couldn’t get his mind around what he’d done.

  “What’s eating you, lad?” Malcolm asked.

  Angus told him. He sat on the stool, fatigue pulling him down, and he told Malcolm all of it.

  When he finished, Malcolm looked at him. “What are we going to do to save her?”

  “We are going to do nothing!” Angus said. “We have to think of the whole. We have to think of the babies and feeding them. If we thwart Lawler—if we rebel—we will be punished, not her.”

  “Have ye got that out of your system now?”

  “Aye, I have,” Angus said, and as he looked at Malcolm, the tiredness began to leave him. He felt energy moving through his body. “What I thought is that they can’t marry without the kirk.”

  “Do you mean to burn it down?” Malcolm asked, eyes wide in horror.

  “Nay,” Angus said. “I just thought we’d take the pastor for a night out.”

  “He must know that Lawler wants him here tonight.”

  “I thought... Mind you, it’s just an idea that passed through my head, but I thought that we might get Shamus to help us make the pastor forget his appointment. If we showed up at the vicarage with a little or mayhap a lot of Lawler’s port, perhaps the old man would forget he’s to be at the kirk tonight.”

  “Why Shamus? When did you start to trust him?”

  “In my eyes this is a sin sure to get me sent to hell. If I have to go, then I want someone with me who deserves to go.”

  “Excellent idea,” Malcolm said, trying to look serious, but the corners of his lips were twitching in merriment. “But if we stop the marriage tonight, what do we do about tomorrow? And the day after?”

  “I don’t know,” Angus said. “I think we’ll have to secret her away and somehow hide her. Then we’ll... Why are these problems put onto me?”

  “Because you always come up with a solution for them,” Malcolm said. “Do you want me to go with you to see Shamus?”

  “Nay. I want you to steal a barrel of port.”

  “That will take but a moment,” Malcolm said. “Go on, go to Shamus. You’ll have to use the coins you have hidden in the third stall to bribe him.”

  Angus didn’t pause to ask how his uncle knew about those. There was no time to lose.

  “What do you mean that you canna go?” Angus asked Shamus as he was eating. They were in the small, dirt-floored old cottage where Shamus lived with his tiny mother and three younger brothers. His four older brothers had left as soon as they were tall enough to stand up to their abusive father. To this day some people still wondered how Shamus’s father had fallen off a cliff in broad daylight. Whatever the cause, no one had been sorry to see him go.

  “I have to drive a heavy wagon to Glasgow tonight,” Shamus said.

  “Since when are you a driver?”

  “Since the little miss asked me to do it.”

  Angus sat down at the table across from him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Lawler’s niece asked me to drive a wagon to Glasgow. What more is there to say?”

  “The niece? Not Lawler?”

  “He knows nothing about it. I had to meet the wagon two miles from here, and one of my brothers is watching it now. I’ll go when I finish my meal.”

  “What’s in the wagon?” Angus asked.

  “Six heavy trunks. They’re bronze statues from Greece and she has someone in Glasgow waiting to sell them for her. I’m to bring back the money and give it to her.”

  “You? She trusted you to bring money back to her?”

  “She likes me,” Shamus said, grinning. “She says I’m the only man in Scotland who has enough courage to
help her. She calls me a man of honor.” Shamus was laughing at this very idea.

  “How much did she pay you?”

  “None of your business,” he said.

  Angus thought he saw the girl’s plan. Somehow, she’d got hold of valuable items and was going to sell them. Maybe, if she got enough money, she could buy her way out of having to marry someone she didn’t like. All in all, Angus thought it was a good plan, except that she’d tried to use Shamus. She’d never see a cent of the money. He’d stay in Glasgow, or board a ship, and no one would ever see him again.

  Angus had to quickly put together an alternate plan. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “There’s danger on the road. You’ll need someone with you.”

  “My brother is going with me.”

  “Then I’ll alert Lawler to be ready for the money.”

  Shamus gave Angus a vile look. He could see that he wasn’t going to get away with his original scheme. Only if everything was done in secrecy could he sell the goods and keep the money. If Angus told, Lawler would send fifty men after him before he’d gone ten miles.

  “You take the wagon,” Shamus said, his face contorted in rage. “You go and sell the old things, then bring the money back here. I’m sure the young miss will be grateful to you.” His tone made it sound as though there was something dirty going on between Angus and the niece.

  The last thing Angus wanted to do was to drive a wagon all the way to Glasgow, but he didn’t know anyone he could trust. He followed Shamus outside the little house, ducking through the short doorway, then went behind the house and saw the wagon.

  As he stared, he could hardly speak. It wasn’t a normal wagon, but a very heavy one, seeming to have been reinforced so it could hold a great weight. More extraordinary were the horses attached to it. They were two magnificent Clydesdales, gorgeous animals, with their heavy hooves and thick manes.

  As Angus stood there staring in astonishment, he realized why Shamus was so angry. Whoever had arranged this had spent an enormous amount on the rig. The statues must be worth a fortune.