Wiping his hands on a clean square of linen he turned to face me. “Just remember she is not your baby, Corran.”
I stared across the room at him, stung by his words. “What do you take me for?”
His brow furrowed and his eyes deepened. “I have told you before Corran, you love too easily.”
“I am just helping a friend out that is all,” I defended.
“Aye, and I am sure she will be grateful for your help, but if I know you, Corran, it will break your heart when you have to give the child back.”
He was right but I was not of a mind to admit it. “It won’t,” I said curtly. “I am just doing a friend a favor.”
“And what has Shannon been up to now?” he asked, ignoring my last comment. “Let’s wait for her father to come in, shall we,” I said, not wanting to cover the details more often than was necessary. “I think you may want to take Thomas into your office to discuss it though,” I finished, offering a gentle hint as to the severity of the problem.
He nodded passing the square of linen to Hamish. “Right, well I have some work to do anyway and I’d like to have a word with Thomas about another matter as well. Send him through when he gets in,” he said, helping himself to a plate of cold meat and bread.
******
CHAPTER 25
August 1715
We were woken before sunrise by frantic banging on the front door. Simon sat up, hurriedly pulling on his trousers. “Simon, what is it?” I asked, sleepily.
“I don’t know, but they are banging loud enough to wake the dead.”
“Don’t go down on your own, give me a minute and I will come with you,” I said, rising and reaching for my shawl on the end of the bed.
“No, you wait here,” he said, making his way toward the bedroom door.
A few minutes later he returned to the room, a sheet of paper in hand. “Who was it?” I asked.
“Alex Grant.”
“Well?” I asked, after a few moments of silence. “What was he doing banging on our door at this hour?”
He sat himself on the bed and turned to face me. “Erskine has called the clans to a hunting match; he is on his way from London now.”
I waited, but again he fell silent. “Simon you are not making any sense. What does this man Erskine calling the clans to a hunting match, have to do with us? We don’t even know the man.”
“You don’t know the Earl of Mar, Corran, but I do.”
I stared at him in shocked silence. “I still don’t understand. You are not a clan leader and just because you know of the man doesn’t make his hunting match anything to do with you.”
The sun was rising and a faint glow of light spilled through the crack of the shutters. His brow creased in a frown as he cast his eyes over the words on the page. “The man might be a pathetic, groveling little devil, who can’t decide where his loyalties lie but whatever his nature, his cause is just,” he said, more to himself than to me.
“What are you on about Simon?” I asked, growing annoyed with his vaguely erratic one sided conversation.
“The Stuarts, Corran, I am on about bringing James home, to Scotland.”
“You what?” I said.
“You heard me. We have a chance to do it this time. I am joining the hunt,” he said suddenly, “I will leave this afternoon.”
I opened my mouth to object but he raised a finger to my lips. “Shh, Corran, don’t argue. You can’t stop me.”
“But pa, you can’t go, what about the farm?” Duncan protested as his father saddled his horse to leave.
“I can lad and I am. You are to take care of your mother and the farm whilst I am gone. Don’t let me down, do you hear me?”
“What about the harvest? Will you back in time for it?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t know, Corran, I will be back as soon as I can. Duncan has seen every harvest this farm has had. He knows what is to be done.”
“And me, Simon? What am I to do?” I whispered.
He bent down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “You wait for me, Corran. I will be back,” he said, his eyes alight with expectant adventure.
And then he was gone. Without so much as an explanation I was left again, waiting for the safe return of the man I loved.
The house was quiet without its master and for two months I lay awake each night, listening for the sound of his horse, waiting for his return. He sent no word of his safe arrival or expected return, no explanation of his intentions.
“Shannon and I are going into town tomorrow afternoon, is there anything you need us to bring you back?” Duncan asked one evening after dinner.
I looked slowly up from the table and across at my son. “Duncan, it would be nice if you took Eilidh into town this time. I am sure she would enjoy a day out and you only took Shannon out with you last week. I have need of Shannon tomorrow for the milking.”
“I would rather have Shannon accompany me to town, ma,” he tried, hopeful of a retreat on my part.
I shook my head firmly. “No lad, I have need of her. Times are difficult without your pa, it’s Eilidh or you go on your own,” He opened his mouth to try again, but I interrupted him. “Here,” I said, pushing a small purse of coins across the table at him. “Take this and treat the girl to a new ribbon and get something for yourself while you’re at it.”
Duncan closed his hand over the purse and slipped it into his trouser pocket.
“Have you any word from pa yet?”
“No lad, not a word,” I replied sadly, reaching for another shirt from my mending pile. “We will hear soon enough, don’t worry, he will be back,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“But it’s been two months, ma, and we haven’t had a single word off him.”
“I know Duncan, but he will come home when he is ready. He wouldn’t stay away if he didn’t have to,” I finished, sighing deeply.
“What about the farm ma, we can’t manage forever without pa.”
“We won’t have to Duncan, I told you, he will be home when he can. You are a capable lad and can manage this farm as well as your pa.”
“He is wrong to have left you ma.”
“That may be the case Duncan, but he wouldn’t have gone without good reason. It’s late my boy; I am going up to bed. Will you lock up when you are done down here?” I said, returning the shirt to the pile. “Good night Duncan,” I said, heading toward the stairs.
The following morning, Duncan was up before dawn. Black clouds weighed heavily in the morning sky and I guessed he had gone to move the animals into shelter before the storm hit.
“Eilidh will you take this food and flask out to Duncan please?” I called, wrapping some meat in some cloth and placing it in a wicker basket. The girl nodded, blushing slightly at the mention of Duncan’s name, and moved to take the basket. “Here, take this as well,” I said, pushing a slice of fruitcake into her hand. “He will notice you better if you give him this,” I finished, smiling kindly at the girl.
Barely sixteen, she was a sweet, honest child who had obviously taken a shine to my son. Duncan, however, appeared not to notice the dreamy way in which she had started staring at him whenever she thought no-one was looking. The problem lay in the fact that Duncan had his eyes firmly set on Shannon.
“You shouldn’t do that you know, Corran.”
I swung around to see Simon standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Dropping the knife with which I had been cutting up vegetables, I ran toward him, throwing my arms around him in delight.
He lowered his head and kissed me hard. He smelled of smoke and dusty roads.
“Oh Simon, I have missed you so much.”
Holding me tightly he brushed his lips against the top of my head. “And I have missed you my darling, Corran.”
“Come tell me all about what you have been doing and where you have been?” I said, ushering him to the table.
“I think you ought to tell me what you have been doing first,” he said.
 
; I shook my head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Eilidh. You shouldn’t do that Corran,” he said.
“Do what?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“Meddle in the boy’s life.”
“I am only trying to help him. That Shannon is a nightmare and you know it. Eilidh is a much nicer girl and she has taken a real shine to Duncan.”
“That may be the case but it is not our place to meddle. Do yourself a favor and let the lad work out his own love life.”
“Enough about what has been going on here, I want to know what you have been doing.”
He frowned, and lifted his hands to his head. “We will be having some house guests in the next few days. I have invited General Mackintosh and a few of his men to stay with us for a few days.”
“General Mackintosh?” I said, stunned, “Who is General Mackintosh, and why have you invited him to come here?”
“He is a friend of mine and we have some business to discuss,” he said.
“You seem to have a lot of new friends lately, Simon,” I said cynically.
******
CHAPTER 26
October 1715
A nineteen year old Duncan was uncontainable in his excitement at the thought of meeting with a real highland general and had declared that he was going to join the army. In particular he had a wish to follow the General and it was not long before he announced to both Simon and me that he planned to follow General Mackintosh and fight for the restoration of the Stuarts to the Monarchy. In other words, he was going to join the ‘cause’. This subject became the trigger of many heated disagreements between Duncan and his father in the days prior to the general’s arrival.
“Simon, we can’t let him go with the Highland army,” I said, neatly folding a pair of Duncan’s trousers onto the pile of his washing on the table.
“I won’t let him go Corran, don’t worry about it.”
“But I do worry, Simon, he is so young and impressionable.”
“I told you Corran, I will sort it. I give you my word that Duncan will not join General Mackintosh’s men.”
“Why did you have to invite him here? There is no good that can come of it. Have we not had enough trouble in our lives without inviting a whole damn army of it to stay with us?” I shouted, allowing my fears to get the better of me.
“I have work to do,” he said, walking off.
As much as I sympathized with the ‘cause’ and as much as I hated the English Crown and the new King George, along with the old King William; I did not have any wish to lose our only son in the fruitless pursuit of what I deemed to be a lost cause. Simon agreed with me on one point, that he had no wish for Duncan to join the army, however, as for assuming the ‘cause’ to be a lost one; I was very much on my own.
The day arrived, wet and dull, which was fairly typical for late October in the borders, when the men of General Mackintosh’s army arrived.
“Corran, may I present to you, General Mackintosh,” Simon announced proudly.
“Very pleased to meet you, sir,” I replied, knowing my eyes betrayed my lie.
“And I you, ma’am,” he said, bowing with exaggerated politeness.
“I have business to discuss with the general; will you have one of the girls bring us in some food and whisky please,” Simon said, ushering our visitor into his office.
Back in the kitchen, Duncan bobbed up and down like a small child. “Let me take the tray into them ma, please?” he begged.
I shook my head slowly. “No, Duncan, I can’t let you take it in. You know your father will be livid if I do.”
“He won’t care who brings him his whisky, so long as he gets it.”
“No Duncan, I told you. I can’t let you go in there and that is my final word. If Shannon and Eilidh are not around, I will take it myself.”
“I saw Shannon earlier. She has gone off with one of the soldiers,” he sulked. “But I think I saw Eilidh cleaning the birds for dinner.”
I set the tray on the table, raising my eyes to my son. “You know Duncan, Shannon is not a nice girl for you.”
“She can go with her soldiers for all I care, ma. She means nothing to me,” he scowled.
“Well, just remember son, there are lots of nice lasses out there, you don’t need this one.”
“Aye, ma, you are right,” he said, moving to lift the tray off the table.
I slapped his hand affectionately. “Nice try Duncan, but I will take it thank you. Why don’t you go and see if Eilidh needs a hand with those birds? I don’t think Shannon will be offering any help.”
“I would rather go and meet with the general’s men,” he replied.
“There will be plenty of time for that after dinner. We have an army to feed tonight and Eilidh can’t do it all by herself. Go give the girl a hand Duncan.”
For two days Simon and the general remained squirreled away behind closed doors. Duncan on the other hand drank copious amounts of ale and talked and laughed with the men as if they were his kin. They told tales of war and glory, of bloody battles lost and won. They talked of how they would one day restore the Stuarts to their rightful place on the Throne of England and how all of Scotland would be free of the tyranny of the English. I had seen too much to ever believe these tales. I listened with sadness as they spoke and heard their passion, courage and belief. But, as night fell and I settled to bed, I cried because I knew it never could and never would be. To the young minds of these boys there was hope and each and every one of them would give their lives for that hope. I only prayed that my son would not be one of them.
******
CHAPTER 27
The house fell silent as the general took his army and left for town. We gathered around the table, all three of us, drinks in hand waiting for the first one to speak, knowing that when they did, our lives would change forever. It was Duncan who broke the silence, “I am going with them,” he announced, to neither Simon’s nor my surprise.
“No, you are not Duncan,” replied his father calmly.
“You can’t stop me.”
“I think you will find I can.”
I watched, my head moving from one to the other as I followed their conversation. Duncan clasped his fists and banged them hard on the table. “How will you stop me? I am nineteen, I can do what I want, and you can’t stop me.”
“You see lad,” he said, bending forward toward his son, “I can stop you because I know they won’t take you in their army.”
“You know they won’t take me?” shouteed Duncan, heaving his chair backward and moving to stand. “How can you know such a thing?”
Simon sighed and moved his hands up to his forehead. “Sit down Duncan and I will tell you how I know.” Duncan did not take up the offer but continued to stand.
“Go, if you like. Follow them to town, but it will do you no good because the general won’t have you. I know this, lad, because I made it so.”
I stared in surprise at Simon, opening and closing my mouth like a fish as I went to speak and then thought better of it.
“Duncan, the army is no place for a young man. People get hurt and people die, and neither your Mother, nor I, want to see either of these things happen to you. I know you have been raised to hate the English, we all do for one reason or another, but this is not your fight. The fight is ours and we will follow the general tomorrow and you, Duncan, will stay here and mind the farm.” A deathly silence filled the air.
Duncan’s blue eyes, piercing and sharp, flittered from Simon to me, surveying us with the hatred of an enemy. My head swam as I fought to comprehend my husband’s words, to make sense of why he would turn our only son against us. With horror I realized our family was broken, our lives destroyed and our son lost to us as surely as if he had followed the Highlanders. A loud crash filled the silence of the room as my mug dropped from my hands to the floor. I looked at Simon and slowly shook my head. “Why, Simon? Why are you doing this to us again?” My voice was little more than a whisper bu
t he knew the meaning of my words.
“I am doing this, Corran, to give our son a future, to see that he is one day free of the tyranny with which we have lived. It matters not if the lad hates us for it. What matters is that he has a future.”
“Oh Simon, no, no, we can’t do this. Please, just let us stay here as a family? We have been so happy here.”
“Aye, and for each day that we have been here we have lived fearing the return of the English soldiers. No, Corran, I won’t condemn our son to a future of fear without a fight.”
“And your son?” demanded Duncan, “Does he not get a say in his future?”
“No lad, you don’t get that privilege until you have proved yourself a man.”
“Then let me join the army and fight as a man,” he said.
“You think then, Duncan, that running away with the army to fight for a cause you have not lived long enough to understand; to stand firm in battle and then die at the hands of the enemy; for the passion of those who have been wronged, you think this makes you a man? No, boy, that makes you a fool – a young, headstrong fool who seeks adventure and excitement wherever he can find it.”
“And you, Father? I know you were a soldier. You fought, so why will you not let me do it?” Shaking with temper Duncan kicked the chair in front of him. It fell heavily, its legs smashing as it hit the floor. Simon rose from his seat and moved toward his son. As if in slow motion I watched as he raised his right fist, swung it back and then with a pounding thump hit the boy on the side of his face. Duncan fell backwards, stumbling as he fought to regain his balance. I rushed toward my son, but Simon grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Leave him be,” he growled. “This is between me and my son.”
My hands shook, my stomach cramped and my legs froze keeping me rigid as I was forced to watch, with horror, the battle between my husband and son.
“Come on then lad,” he said, his voice deep and menacing. “Show me what makes you a man? Is it the boy with the temper who fights because he has been shamed? Or is it the boy who walks away because he doesn’t understand the fight? You decide which one is it to be? Will you fight or will you walk?”