Love's Ransom (16 page)

‘I am familiar with Moyenstane Tower.’ He gave her a kindly smile. ‘I lived here for several years while Zander and Henry were young. Do not trouble to carry food for me, I am content to eat at the kitchen board and bless the food and all who work within. Is Lizzie still here?’

‘She is, Father.’ Isabella bit her lip and her expressive eyes reflected her sadness. ‘We are all missing Henry’s presence and his wisdom but he was like a son to Lizzie. She has taken his death very hard.’

‘Yes, she always had a most tender heart for Henry.’

Isabella sensed a cool reserve in Sir William’s attitude to Father Oliver, so much so that she felt a need to make excuses for him.

‘Do not worry, my dear,’ he said in his gentle way. ‘Sir William and I have our different opinions but we understand each other. I am afraid he holds me responsible for Henry’s love of books and his search for knowledge. I taught Henry, Alexander and Anna in the same way and they all turned out differently. Henry was never meant to be a warrior and he abhorred the reivers and their raiding. He was pleased when King James declared we should all live at peace. His father has come out of the agreement very well. The King granted him a large area of land in return for keeping the peace in this area, and for holding the Truce Days with his English counterpart to uphold the laws.

‘We were surprised when Warden Herries attended Henry’s funeral. Many people came.’

‘Many people had reason to be grateful to Henry for helping them save their animals, and even their children sometimes. He will be badly missed.’

‘He told me you taught him all he knows about the herbs and various plants and the medicines he used.’

‘I awakened his interest and he was quick to learn, but he read all the books I could provide and we had many dis
cussions together. I shall miss his visits to the monastery.’ He sighed heavily. ‘But we must all accept God’s will.’

‘I try to tell myself that,’ Isabella said, ‘but it is not always easy. Henry was very brave. He saved my life and it cost him his own.’ She broke off as her voice shook. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I shall leave you to eat in peace and go and prepare a room for you, if you will excuse me, Father?’

‘I will, dear child. I shall look forward to talking with you later. I have brought some spices and dried fruits which I know are difficult to obtain when you are so far from the sea and the merchants who have contacts with the ships.’

‘Oh Father Oliver, we shall all be most grateful for your kindness. Such things are a rare luxury for us.’

‘I have also brought some books which I think you will enjoy reading and a supply of paper. Henry told me you appreciate such things and that you keep a daily journal?’

‘Yes it is true and I am more grateful than you can ever know. Our supply of paper is almost finished and I wondered if I would ever get any more.’

During the two weeks Father Oliver spent at Moyenstane Tower it was clear that Sir William was avoiding spending time alone in his company so Isabella was left to entertain him. She was grateful for the opportunity to walk with him in the garden and learn all he could tell her. She showed him the herbal room where Henry had brewed some of his draughts and she asked him for information on the ones she did not understand.

‘You must write labels for your own understanding of their uses, Isabella. Henry used the symbols because the servants could understand them when he asked them to bring him a jar with three circles or two squares or one circle. Few, if any of them can read.’

‘Then I shall label them and keep their uses in my journal, but I shall also keep the symbols. I am trying to teach Nell to read. She is my young nursemaid. Duncan sometimes joins us and takes an interest.’

‘It gave Henry the greatest pleasure when he discovered you could read and write, and even more joy when you both shared an interest in gardening and growing the herbs and vegetables. Who taught you these things?’

‘My mother taught all of us, my brother and my three young sisters.’ Her eyes clouded with sadness when she thought of her family. She had sent a long letter to them via Warden Heries but she had not received a reply. She knew they would have written if there had been anyone travelling this way to bring a letter.

‘I see it saddens you to think of your family, Isabella,’ Father Oliver said with his usual perceptiveness.

‘My mother was brought up in a convent. She taught me all I knew about plants until Henry began to teach me more. I long to be able to tell her.’

It was the last day of Father Oliver’s visit and Isabella’s spirits were heavy. She had debated long into the night about whether she dare confess her sins to him. Would he despise her if he knew how wicked she had been?

‘I did not expect to enjoy my visit so much, knowing Henry would not be here,’ Father Oliver said, ‘but it has been a pleasure, thanks to your company, Isabella. It concerned me greatly when I heard Sir William had forced you and Henry to marry, but he told me he could not wish for a more understanding person to share his life.’

‘Oh Father,’ Isabella said in a troubled voice. ‘I am not a good person.’

‘Perhaps there are things you would like to share with me, child? Shall we go to the chapel? We shall not be interrupted there.’

Isabella thought of the small room off the main living area with its ceiling arched by the curve of the stairs. There was a large gilded cross hung on the wall and in front of it stood a carved oak table with two tall silver candle sticks. In spite of his own intolerance about religion Sir William insisted there must always be two of the best bees wax candles ready to light. There was also a silver bowl which had been used when the twins were baptised, and a small silver vessel to hold wine. It was a small sanctuary amidst the comings and goings of Moyenstane and Isabella had often found peace there.

‘Even walls have ears sometimes,’ she said quietly now, her face serious. ‘Will you walk outside with me, Father, out beyond the courtyard?’

‘Of course, my dear, if that is what you wish. Shall I call Duncan? I have noticed he is a loyal young guard.’

‘I think it is better if we go alone,’ Isabella said. ‘I’m sure I shall be safe with you beside me. Even Jud Snodd respects and fears you.’

‘Very well,’ Father Oliver nodded, ‘but you must wrap up well in your warm cloak, for the weather is very cold. I regret I must leave tomorrow but I would not wish to be caught in a snow storm.’

‘We shall be sorry to see you go, Father,’ Isabella said with a sincerity he could not doubt, though he knew her father-in-law would be only too happy.

Isabella automatically turned in the direction of the Long Glen with the hills in the distance and the path she had first travelled with Sam, escorted by Zander and his men, when she had come to Moyenstane Tower to offer her life in exchange for her brother’s. They had walked some distance from the safety of the high walls which surrounded the tower before Isabella found the courage to talk openly and honestly.

‘I fear my wickedness as Henry’s wife has brought grief and sadness to all of us and I do not know how I can ever make recompense. Even now I fear for the lives of my children and,’ she laid a hand against her stomach, my unborn child. I ask myself if they will be called upon to suffer for the sins of their mother, and if they suffer then I shall suffer with them. Henry should not have given his life to save me. I am unworthy of such a sacrifice.’ Father Oliver came to a halt and turned to face her.

‘I am sure Henry wanted you to live, child, you and your baby. What great sin can you have committed to fill you with such fear of the future?’

‘Adultery…’ Isabella whispered hoarsely. ‘Henry is n-not the father of my children, Father.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

‘Ah, now I understand what troubles you, Isabella. I knew there was something weighing heavily upon your spirit.’ He was silent for several minutes as they walked slowly onwards. They passed a few isolated cottages and women at work but no one interrupted them.

‘You know that a priest must never divulge whatever secrets or sins a man, or woman, may confess to him?’

‘Yes, Father. I know you will always keep my confidences.’

‘I will, just as I would have kept Henry’s, had he been alive. I have known him since he was a boy. As a young man he longed to join the priesthood, to learn about medicine and plants and help those who are sick. His father would not hear of it. He wanted his son to be a warrior. Even after the King declared peace in our Border regions, William still expected Henry to excel at fighting so that he would take over as head of the Douglas clan and be respected for his prowess. There were many times when his father made Henry deeply unhappy. He was sensitive and kind and he had a love of learning and an instinct for healing.’

‘He did, and men respected him for that, as much as they would have done for fighting. They sought his help with their sheep and cows.’

‘I knew from an early age that Henry was not quite developed as other boys and I did not think he would ever sire children. Lizzie knew too. She tried to tell his father once. He flew into a rage and forbade such things to be mentioned. I think Anna and Alexander knew, or suspected, that Henry was different, but they were always loyal and loving towards him. They would have done anything to protect him.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Isabella said quietly, recalling the cup of blood Lizzie or Anna had provided on the night she and Henry married. It was only later she had realised it was for Sir William’s benefit, to protect Henry from his wrath. She and Henry had been as innocent as a pair of children.

‘Sir William blamed my influence on his son for what he called “his bookish ways”. He sent me away but even his father could not prevent Henry making visits to the monastery from time to time. Perhaps this helps you understand why Henry confessed to me that Alexander is the father of your children, although he claimed them as his own? He assured me that neither he nor Alexander had forced you against your will?’

‘Oh no, Father! Neither of them would have done that.’ She bit her lip, before she added in a whisper. ‘I love Zander. I love him as a man. I loved Henry as I love my brother. I – we were friends and I miss him terribly.’

‘I know Alexander left because he could not resist temptation. He called to see me on his way to Newcastle. He understood that discovery would have brought terrible retribution to all three of you. The circumstances were forced upon you by Sir William Douglas but God knows all. He will forgive.’

‘Even though I have broken the vows I made at the marriage ceremony?’

‘The sin was Sir William’s. He forced Henry to marry against his will. He told me he was grateful to be blessed with such a wife as you, my dear. He said you were discreet and considerate, you did not gossip, even with Anna, though I understand you are good friends?’

‘We are, and I am grateful for that, but I would never discuss such personal matters. I am glad Henry explained to you, Father.’

‘Then my visit has been worthwhile, my child. I hope you will find happiness with your children. We have a young priest who will make a fine tutor for them when they are ready for learning the things you cannot teach them yourself.’

‘Thank you, Father,’ Isabella breathed a sigh of relief.

‘There is another matter on which Henry sometimes sought our advice, although his father did not know.’ Father Oliver chuckled and his eyes crinkled at the corners. At the monastery we see many travellers and hear news of trade and wars and many matters. We have merchants who buy and sell our produce. Through his contact with us Henry frequently obtained a better price for wool than his father could have got, in spite of his power and influence. There is a wider world beyond our borders and it is changing. Our Scottish wool is of high quality and in demand. Good merchants can sell it across the water to France and Holland, and beyond. Your children will depend on you now they have neither Henry nor Alexander to provide for them. Your young guardsman is extremely loyal to you already. When he is older I believe he will obey your orders, however difficult they may be. If you have any problems or questions you must write a letter and send him with it to the monastery. We shall treat him kindly and help if we can, even if I am not there in person.’

‘You have eased my conscience, Father and now you offer help. How can I thank you?’

‘Don’t thank me, child. Thank God for helping Henry save your life, and that of your baby. May the Lord bless and keep you and yours.’

Twelve

Isabella missed Father Oliver’s company when he departed the following morning but she felt more at peace than she had thought possible since Henry’s death. She knew the birth of her baby was getting close and it saddened her that neither Henry nor Zander would be here. She prayed everything would go well. Anna was also expecting another child and she craved company.

‘I wish Nell or Duncan could ride,’ Isabella said to Walter. ‘When I am able to ride again they could accompany me to visit Anna. The weather is so cold now.’

‘Duncan can ride a little. It would be good for him to exercise your little mare. She’s missing you.’

‘The
n I give him permission to do that, but please teach him to be gentle with her. She has a soft mouth you know. No one else had ever ridden her until we came here.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Walter said with a chuckle and Isabella realised she had not heard him laugh, or even seen him smile, since Henry’s death.

Anna came to stay while Walter accompanied Sir William and his men to the next Truce Day which was to be over the Border. Isabella welcomed her company. Sir William promised to bring back a good supply of salt, as well as some French brandy from the French ships which came into the Solway ports. Isabella had used most of their stock of salt to preserve the beef from the animals which had been killed at the onset of winter. It saddened her, as it had Henry, when good animals were killed but it was impossible to provide enough food for all of them through the winter. Some would have died from starvation so it was wiser to store their meat.

Sir William had been back a week and Anna had returned home when Isabella’s baby came into the world almost without warning, at least in comparison to her arduous labour with the twins. It was mid -December.

‘I can’t believe he came so quickly,’ Isabella said to Lizzie, gazing down at the wrinkled and protesting little face cocooned in her arms.’

‘I’m glad he did, Mistress Isabella. Climbing all these stairs is getting too much for my old legs. He’s not very big but he has a fine pair o’ lungs on him.’

‘I do hope the milk will come so that I can feed him,’ Isabella said anxiously.

‘It will, but ye need to eat more. Since Master Henry died ye havena eaten enough to keep a mouse. The Master is worried about ye. He’s coming up to see ye and look over his wee grandson, when ye’ve had a sleep.’

‘I hope he will not be disappointed because he has black hair.’

‘Och, babies rarely keep their hair. Who can tell what colour he will be.’

‘He reminds me of my brother,’ Isabella mused, ‘though even he does not have hair as dark as this.’ She smoothed her baby’s head with a gentle finger.

‘He has your eyes,’ Lizzie said. ‘and the same thick dark lashes lying on his innocent wee cheeks. Henry and Zander would have been proud o’ him if they’d lived to see him.’

‘Don’t say that, Lizzie,’ Isabella gasped. ‘Zander is not dead.’

‘He might as well be dead. Nobody kens where to find him. He could have fallen off the edge o’ the world even though Father Oliver says ’tis round. He could be drowned in that great sea I’ve heard the Master talk about.’ Isabella didn’t reply. Lizzie’s ramblings depressed her and she closed her eyes to hide the tears which welled unexpectedly. In her own heart she had hoped Zander would return, however far he journeyed in foreign lands. She had not considered he might be dead.’

Sir William Douglas viewed his tiny grandson with satisfaction.

‘At last we have this wee fellow to carry on the name o’ the Douglas Clan,’ he said. ‘He looks like your brother, but so long as makes a good leader the colour of his hair willna matter. We much give him a name and ask the old priest to baptise him as soon as ye’re out of bed again. Shall we name him Henry?’

‘I considered that but Nettie’s name is really Henrietta.’

Nell came in bringing a cup of mead for her and a jug of ale for Sir William.

‘Lizzie says ye must drink this and it will make the milk come,’ she announced, handing the cup carefully to Isabella. ‘If ’tis names ye’re choosing Lizzie already calls him Alex. She says he reminds her of a baby called Alexander the way he guzzles and he’ll grow into a big healthy man.’

‘I expect she means Zander,’ Sir William said when Nell had gone. ‘Lizzie helped look after him when his mother died. He was a boy before I knew of him.’ He frowned. ‘Zander was the last person Henry called for before he died. Perhaps he would have liked his son to be called Alexander. They were always good friends. Shall we name him William Alexander?’

‘William Alexander Jamie?’ Isabella prompted.

‘Jamie for your brother? Of course my dear.’

The baby was christened as Sir William had suggested but Lizzie persisted in calling him “Wee Alex” so he became Alex to everyone except his grandfather.

He was an active toddler by the time he was eighteen months old. Nell and Isabella had their hands full trying to keep him out of mischief, as well as caring for Mamie and Nettie. Lizzie was getting old and her joints had stiffened during the winter. She often dwelt in the past and she frequently shook her grey head and muttered, ‘He reminds me o’ Zander when he was a boy. Aye looking for food, or up to mischief he was.’ Isabella kept her head bowed and hoped her cheeks did not flush. Had the old woman guessed Zander was his father? In her heart she knew Lizzie guessed many truths about the Douglas clan, but even she couldn’t know how much Isabella longed for the feel of Zander’s arms around her, or how her body throbbed with yearning for him. The loss of Henry had left a different kind of loneliness in her life and it was the reason she was delighted when Father Oliver made another unexpected visit during the early summer. This time he brought with him another priest, an earnest young man with a serious expression.

Although William Douglas feared for his soul and insisted all members of his household must attend Church each Sabbath he was not pleased by the arrival of the two priests, especially when he saw how warmly Isabella welcomed them both.

‘I brought Father Barron to introduce him to your grandchildren, and their mother, Sir William,’ Father Oliver said, with a twinkle in his blue eyes, for he recognized Sir William’s wary manner.

‘Why should my grandchildren need to meet a priest?’ Sir William demanded. ‘They are too young and too innocent to need one yet.’

‘That may be so but I fear I may be too old to introduce Father Barron to them and to your daughter-in-law when they are in need of a tutor. I can guarantee that Father Barron will make an excellent teacher.’

‘Not if he teaches them the same nonsense you taught my son,’ Sir William retorted harshly.

‘The last time we met Henry said he would like me to recommend a tutor for the children. I taught Alexander and Anna the same as Henry. Each young mind absorbs different things.’

‘Humph!’ Sir William growled. ‘I don’t believe you.. You had too much influence on Henry with your religion, education and medicine.’

‘Surely it was one of your own ancestors who rescued Isabella’s grandmother and found refuge for her in a convent. I understand he paid for her to be taught there?’

‘I never heard of any ancestor of mine doing such things!’

‘It is what Henry told me. I believe Isabella, had related the story to him. Apparently the Douglas Clan
revelled in reiving and pillaging, even amongst their fellow Scots?’

‘Of course they did. We were known for our prowess with the sword,’ Sir William said proudly. ‘We had courage. My ancestors were never afraid to fight.’

‘I understand one of your ancestors was James Douglas. He was with a party who were reiving and slaying on Maxwell territory when he came upon a woman in childbirth. He recognised her as Isabella Maxwell, the woman he had wanted for his bride. Her father refused his offer and forced her to marry a distant Maxwell cousin.’

‘I believe there was some dispute,’ Sir William mused.

‘The two clans had become sworn enemies, but James Douglas was filled with compassion at the woman’s plight and he had loved her once. As was the custom then his fellow reivers would have slain her, but he showed compassion. He lifted her onto his horse and led her many miles to the nearest convent to seek aid for her. It was too late for the young mother, but the nuns were able to save her baby. Every year, until his death fourteen years later, James Douglas returned around the same date. He gave money to the convent for the care and education of the child. The nuns named her Mary. That child grew to be a woman and eventually became the wife of John Ellwood, and mother of Isabella, Henry’s wife, your own daughter-in-law. Even you must agree God, or fate if you insist, has brought you a fine reward for your ancestor’s good faith and generosity. Isabella has benefitted from the knowledge which her mother gleaned in the convent. I believe Isabella will do the same to her children, your grandchildren, if you allow Father Barron to help her.’

‘I don’t believe this - this fable!’ Sir William shouted angrily. He turned to Isabella. ‘Can it be true?’

‘It is the story my mother told us,’ Isabella said simply. ‘Her own mother had been forced into marriage with a distant cousin, instead of being allowed to marry James Douglas, the man she loved. It was the story told to her by the nuns. She barely knew her benefactor but my mother has a firm belief that no member of the Douglas clan would harm her, or her family. She was living at the convent when she met my father. He was wounded and taken to there to be nursed by the nuns.’

‘And you believed I would show mercy because I was a Douglas? Is that why you came?’

‘Oh no, I did not share our mother’s blind faith in the goodness of all members of the Douglas clan. I came to offer my life in exchange for my brother’s because I was afraid you would not wait to hear his story. Even if you listened, I thought you might not believe, Jamie.’

‘You’re probably right. We were impressed by his courage and his pride though. He didn’t plead for mercy,’ Sir William mused.

‘If your ancestor believed in the value of education surely you must share his wisdom?’ Father Oliver persisted. Sir William was deep in thought.

‘There were stories…’ He looked at Father Oliver. ‘No doubt you think the joining of our two families is divine intervention,’ he said mockingly, ‘but Henry’s marriage was at my command. On his deathbed he confirmed I had given him the best of wives with Isabella. Isn’t that right?’

‘Yes,’ Isabella whispered, remembering Henry’s dying moments. She turned to Father Oliver. ‘Even the bravest of soldiers could not have shown more courage when it mattered most. I would like my children to be taught as you taught Henry.’

‘Very well,’ Sir William sighed. ‘You may send your priest to live at Moyenstane Tower and educate my grandchildren, but not yet. They are still too young.’

‘Thank you,’ Isabella murmured, then turned to Father Oliver, her grey eyes bright with gratitude. He bowed his head in acknowledgement. Whatever his faults Sir William would not go back on his word.

***

The harvest had been gathered in but the September sun still shone. Isabella was restless. She dreaded the long dark days of winter again, and the many winters which were to be her future. She had gathered all the fruits she could find, picking the wild raspberries which grew on the stony banks beyond the high courtyard walls, or searching for the juicy blackberries, or the small dark sloes. The children helped pick up nuts which fell from the hazel bushes.

‘It is going to be another fine day,’ she said. ‘Nell, I think we will take the baskets and the children, and search for berries in the Long Glen. I would like to see the valley again, and the clear water in the wee burn. We shall take bread and cheese and apples. Will you tell Duncan?’

‘Oh yes, and shall I get some goats’ milk for the children, Mistress?’ Nell asked, her eyes shining. ‘She loved to wander in the countryside, as she had been allowed to do as a child, before Snodd began to notice she was growing into a woman and her grandmother kept her close to their cottage.

‘Will you pack extra food for me please, Isabella?’ Sir William said, coming into the kitchen in time to hear her plans. ‘I shall join you.’

‘You’re coming too?’ Isabella was surprised but the children enjoyed their grandfather’s company when he made time to play games, or tell them stories. ‘Shall we still need Duncan?’

‘My presence will keep Snodd and his ilk at a distance, but the boy may come too if he has finished his work. The day has a holiday feel. We should all enjoy it. Winter will be here all too soon. I will take my horse. My wee fellow and the twins can ride when their legs get tired. How is Nell getting on riding the old pony?

‘She’s very nervous. He’s as quiet as a lamb but Nell is afraid of falling off.’ She smiled. ‘I must have been very young when I learned to ride because I can’t remember being afraid of the horses, or any of the animals at Braidlands.’

Nell and Duncan were delighted when they came to the Long Glen and discovered the crystal clear water of the burn flowing over the pebbles.

‘It is fed from a spring further up the hillside,’ Sir William told them. It will do you no harm if you drink it. When the flagons are empty we will wash them out and fill them with the fresh water to take back.’