When Fate Dictates (9 page)

“I will be back for you in a few minutes,
wait here,” he ordered, striding off further down the tunnel. A few
moments later, a small torch flickered in the passageway and
Simon’s face came dimly into view. He was strolling toward me,
calmly and confidently. “Come, they are ready for us,” he said,
removing his pistol from his belt. He held out his left hand and I
reached forward and took it nervously.

“Who is waiting Simon and why the
pistol?”

“You don’t need to know just yet. Trust me, I
will tell you all when it is safe,” he paused, a deep frown forming
on his brow. “We cannot be Mr. and Mrs. Brun now. If asked, you are
to say we are Lamont.”

I nodded in agreement, despite not
understanding why we had to change our names yet again, and
followed him out of the tunnel in the hillside. We emerged on the
sandy beach to see a group of men, all with pistols, moving crates
and barrels toward the tunnel. I turned to Simon, my eyes wide with
astonishment. “Simon,” I whispered, “are they smugglers?” He
squeezed my hand in warning.

“Yes, but we can’t talk about it now, be
hushed.” One of the men came toward us holding a package in his
hands. Without a word he passed the package to Simon who took it
and pushed it inside his coat. We walked purposely toward a rowing
boat that was bobbing silently on the water. “Get in,” Simon said,
nodding in acknowledgment to the man already in the boat. The man
nodded back. Without a word spoken Simon joined me in the boat,
stuffing the package carefully into one of the saddlebags.

“Get your head down Corran”, he ordered in a
hushed whisper, pushing me face down into the boat. The silence
erupted almost immediately into chaotic turmoil. There were
gunshots and confused shouting coming from the beach. I lifted my
head and strained my eyes to see what was happening on the beach,
but could only make out dark shapes fighting and running on the
sand. I was too afraid to move or speak.

“It’s the excise men,” Simon shouted, just in
time to see the man in our boat take a bullet straight through his
head. I screamed in terror as Simon grabbed my arm, pulling me out
of sight.

“Keep your head down,” he whispered
dangerously, hoisting himself out of the boat and onto the shore.
With effort he launched the boat, then leaping back into it he
began to row frantically. The boat glided quickly through the
water, moving further and further from shore. I was shivering
violently when eventually Simon stopped rowing. The boat rocked
gently on the river as he took his coat off and wrapped it around
my shoulders. Fumbling, my shaking hands drew the folds of the coat
tightly together.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

I shook my head, lowering my eyes to the body
of the man slumped in the boat. I retched at the sickening sight of
the corpse.

“Turn away,” he said, moving toward the body.
Swallowing hard, he locked his arms around the man’s chest and then
with a grunt of exertion Simon heaved the body over the side of the
boat. It splashed as it fell, and the boat rocked slightly on the
disturbed water. I could not help but watch as the body bobbed
lifelessly on the surface, his shirt bubbled and filled with water
and then slowly he sank out of view.

“What are we going to do Simon?” I asked.

“We will cross the river,” he said simply,
reaching out his arms and pulling me tightly against him. “Don’t
worry lass; the worst is over for tonight.” I lay my head against
his chest and slowly felt myself relax.

Eventually, we reached the far side of the
river and pulled the boat ashore. Dawn was breaking which made rest
an unlikely option, but Simon paused briefly to extract some cheese
and cold bacon from the saddlebags. I looked at his face as he
handed me some cheese; dark shadows circled his eyes, his face
looked drawn and tired and I wondered how much longer we could run.
Shading my eyes against the rising sun, I could see a farm cottage
up ahead. Simon, who had already spotted the cottage, was steering
us toward the shelter of a clump of trees. He dropped the
saddlebags on the ground and rummaged through a pocket of his
trousers; obviously finding what he had been looking for, he
withdrew his hand. “Corran, will you wait here for me?”

“Why Simon, where are you going? Please don’t
leave me?” I pleaded, feeling suddenly panicked at the thought of
being left on my own.

“I will be back, don’t worry lass. Do you see
that wee farmhouse?” I nodded, silently.

“I am going to see if they will sell me a
horse. We will have an easier time of it with one. There is no
danger in where I am going, but I can’t take you with me. It will
raise suspicion with you dressed as a man. Don’t worry, I shouldn’t
be long.”

I could smell the thick homely scent of a
peat fire coming from the cottage and felt a stab of painful
longing for my home in the glen. Spurred by trauma and fear, I felt
tears well in my tired eyes and bit my lip to hold back their flow.
He drew me into the circle of his arms and held me tightly to his
chest.

“Come now lass, I won’t leave you long. Be
brave wee Corran and I will be back before you know it.” His words
were smooth and soft, and I felt the strength of his embrace,
drawing comfort from his words. He gently released me, pulling the
folds of his coat tighter around me. Lightly, kissing my cheek, he
turned and headed off toward the cottage.

True to his word, it was not too long before
he was riding triumphantly toward me, a broad smile filling his
face. Returning his smile, I hurriedly picked up the saddlebags and
threw them up to him.

******

We rode double through the day, and as the
miles passed I relaxed against him. I paid vague attention to our
surroundings as we rode through several small villages. Clumps of
stone houses with thatch roofs, where people and animals lived
cheek to jowl; through woodlands, fields and rough paths, stopping
only occasionally to allow the horse to rest.

Night fell with the promise of rain, the sky
heavy and black. We stopped at a clearing in some woodland, by the
edge of a small running stream.

“This should be safe enough,” he said, moving
to tether and feed the horse that I had decided earlier should be
named Percy – much to Simon’s annoyance.

“It’s a horse lass, and one we shall have to
work hard. You don’t want to be getting too fond of it,” he had
said. Nonetheless, I had named him and despite Simon’s warning, had
already grown too fond of the creature. I collected some kindling
and Simon quickly sparked a warming fire. Rummaging through the
saddlebags, I found the remains of the bacon and cheese and I
shared it between us. We ate huddled in front of the fire,
sheltered by the canopy of trees above and warmed by the heat of
whisky and flames from the fire. It was dark under the trees, the
only light coming from the fire. I watched Simon as he sat on a
rock, knees bent and hands dangling between his legs. Although
still drawn and tired, his dark eyes shone in the light of the
fire.

“Come here.” His voice was light and playful
as he reached across toward me. I moved over to him, and he
gathered me in his arms, setting me gently on his knee.

“I meant what I said about the horse,” he
whispered, his breath warm against my cheek.

“It’s only a name Simon. We can’t expect the
poor creature to work for us and never bother to give it a
name.”

“I hear you, but it will break your heart if
you get too fond of it.”

“I can’t help but love the creature
Simon.”

“I know,” he said, “I told you before, you
love too easily.”

“Do you think me weak for it?” I asked.

“No, not weak, just inexperienced,” he
paused, looking down into my face, his eyes shadowed with unease.
“But I love you for it,” he said laying a gentle kiss upon my
forehead.

“I need you Simon,” I whispered, eventually,
turning to lay my cheek against him. The rough warmth of his
stubble rubbed against my face.

“I know,” he whispered, softly brushing his
lips against my cheek.

“I love you Simon.”

“But is it really love you feel, Corran? You
are so young and have seen such a little of life. How can you know
the difference between love and lust?”

“But Simon, I really do love you,” I
protested.

“And I you, but you know nothing of me.” I
pulled away from his embrace, and shot him a confused look.

“How can I not know you, Simon? We have lived
together night and day for weeks.”

“Aye that we have, but you have seen only
what you want to see of me. I am a soldier by training, a man who
killed for a living and now that I have no choice I will gamble,
lie and steal to survive. You are young and naive and cannot begin
to understand the kind of character that makes me.” His eyes met
mine, dark and intense with restrained desire. “Do you know what
the life of a soldier makes you into? Do you have any idea of the
dangers in my future?”

I wanted to reply, to tell him that it did
not matter, that I loved him no matter what he had done and would
always love him no matter what he went on to do but he put his
finger to my lips to silence me.

“I will tell you what is to come,” he paused,
swallowing a large mouthful of whisky. “In that saddlebag I have
the deeds and key to a house in York. They were meant for the
captain of a French ship smuggling cargo into Dundee. I
double-crossed the smugglers by informing the excise men when and
where the drop would happen, hopeful that the disturbance would
give us enough time to get out of the city. The French ship raised
anchor and drifted out of sight of the shore. The captain didn’t
know what his payment was, or who would deliver it. He more than
likely assumes it lost to the government by now. That leaves me
free to take on this captain’s name and his property and no one
will ever be any the wiser. I intend to live as a man of business
in York and if you want, we can pass you off to society as my
sister. As such you can have the chance of a good marriage and a
good life.” I stared at him in surprise, stung by his words.

“So you don’t want me as a wife?” I asked
bluntly getting off his knee. He ran his hands roughly through his
hair in frustration shaking his head as he did so.

“I didn’t say that.”

I shot him an accusing look.

“I think you just did,” I said, clenching my
fists by my side and resisting the urge to slap him. Anticipating
my thoughts he moved swiftly toward me. Taking my hands firmly and
grasping them in his own, he held me tightly. His dark smoldering
eyes met mine as I struggled fiercely to free my hands.

“A life with me will be one built on danger,
gambles, lies and deceit. I am a murderer and a gambler. You don’t
have to settle for that,” he said, holding my gaze.

Anger swirled and churned inside me like the
lava of a volcano. I swung my leg toward him, hoping to connect my
foot with his shin but he moved backwards, holding me at arm’s
length and my foot missed.

“Who in the bloody hell do you think you
are?” I demanded, flinging my leg at him in another unsuccessful
attempt to kick him. “Let go of me, you brute. How can you still
think me a child?” I questioned, “I am a grown woman and will make
my own decisions about who I do and don’t love in life. There is no
need for you to marry me off to some wealthy man of society or any
other man for that matter. And as for York, I don’t need you to
babysit me. If you have kept me with you through some sense of duty
over what your people did to my village then God damn you, Simon. I
don’t need your pity or your help.” Still struggling to free myself
from the firm grasp of his hands, my voice grew louder and more
hysterical; my temper rose and boiled inside me as I burned with
rage. “I am not a needy child Simon, do you hear me? I know my own
mind and I don’t need you to tell me what that is,” I gasped in
stunned surprise as he pulled me closer to him, then letting go of
me, he took my face firmly between his hands, tilting it up to
his.

“Christ woman, why do you have to make this
so difficult?” he exclaimed, his breath fast and irregular. His
eyes burned with unveiled passion. I met their look as he bent
slowly toward me and pressed his lips hard against mine. I relaxed
against him as he drew me toward him. Instinctively, I arched
against him; a choked moan of pleasure escaped me as his tongue
traced the line where my lips met. They parted to allow him in, his
tongue searching for mine as he made me finally, and exquisitely,
his.

“I love you Corran,” he sighed as we lay
together afterwards by the warmth of the fire.

“I love you too Simon,” I replied, gently
brushing the curls of his hair from his face. He took my hand and
turned it palm upwards, lifting it to his lips he slowly kissed
each finger. I nestled against him, sighing with deep content. He
reached for his coat and threw it over us for warmth.

“You are a terrible tease.”

“I am not,” I protested.

“Oh yes you are wee Corran. I have gone half
mad with the need for you these past weeks.”

“And you don’t think I have not wanted you
all this time?” I asked.

“I knew full well you wanted me Corran. A man
would have had to be blind not to have,” he said raising his
eyebrows.

“Then why did you pay me no heed for so
long?”

“I didn’t want to ruin you for the sake of my
weakness. It would have been wrong for me to take you Corran,” he
said pausing to reach for the flask and taking a small sip of the
liquid. “But I can’t say you made it easy for me.”

I sat up, wiping my tangled hair from my
face. “I thought you didn’t want me. I believed you were looking
for a way to rid yourself of the burden of me.”

He threw his head back and laughed hard and
loud. “Eee dear, how little you know. I have longed to have you
since the first time I saw you,” he said, grabbing for my arm and
pulling me back toward him.