Chapter 21

21

I nverness was not always a pleasant place to live. The winters were brutal, and the summers were extremely short, but Aidan and Edina cared nothing for any of that. They rented a small house with two bedrooms, which would suffice for the time being until there were too many more Findlays to fit into it.

Aidan's mother had been sending them a small amount of money from time to time, but Aidan wanted to work for a living. He took a job at the docks unloading the boats and made some good friends despite his upper-class accent and fine manners.

Occasionally, as he hefted a crate onto his shoulder, he laughed inwardly as he realised that he had given up a huge castle with acres and acres of land and the prospect of a Lairdship to become a labourer.

Edina began to set up another school for the children in the area, and wished she had Mairi to help her with all the many small tasks that needed her attention. However, she knew that her days of having a maid were over, and that she would never be married to a rich man with a fine house, but she had never wanted that; everything she needed was within the four walls of the little house. Her life was complete.

She often wrote to her mother, who knew where she was living, but she had no interest in her uncle and his family, and this made her feel wretched, because she owed him so much. However, knowing him and how close he was to Laird Findlay, she knew that her and Aidan's home would soon be known to the Laird. This was something that both of them wanted to avoid at all costs.

"I am so happy," she said one night as they were lying in bed.

It was the best feeling in the world to be lying snuggled up to Aidan, cosy and comfortable under their thick woollen blankets while the wind howled outside and rain battered the windows.

"I feel as if we are in a little fortress," he replied, smiling. "Protected from everything, needing only each other."

"No, needing only one more thing," Edina corrected him sadly. "A child."

Aidan leaned on one elbow to look down at her.

"Edina, if we are not blessed with children, I will still be perfectly content. All I need is you."

Edina could not see much of him in the darkness, but she smiled.

"I want a son," she told him. "I want a boy just like you, with brown eyes and chestnut hair. I want a house full of happy children, and in the fullness of time I want to be a grandmother."

Aidan sighed and lay on his back again.

"Then there is only one thing to do," he told her.

"What is that?" Edina asked curiously.

"This."

He pushed up her nightgown, grabbed both of her hands in one of his, and without any warning, he entered her with one hard thrust. Edina squealed in surprise, then lay back and submitted completely, enjoying the feeling of being completely under Aidan's control. Sometimes they would play the game the other way round, and she would be in charge, but now she was under his command, and it was blissful.

Her climax was gentle this time, but Aidan let out a shout as he came and collapsed on top of Edina. Obviously, his had not been quite so mild. As he came back to earth and recovered his breath, he asked, "Do you know how much I love you, Edina?"

"As much as I love you," she murmured lovingly.

When the knock came to the door the next day, Edina was bathing. Her hair was dripping wet, and she was naked, but she climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in a robe before going to answer it.

"Who is there?" she asked irritably.

"Your mother and father!" her mother's voice answered.

Edina pulled open the door, almost dislodging her robe, and with a delighted cry, she threw her arms around Bettina's neck, then Roy's.

"Oh, I am so glad to see you both!" she cried, beaming at them, then stood aside to let them in.

It was only when she closed the door behind them that she saw the expression on their faces. They both looked heartbroken, and Edina looked from one to the other, puzzled.

"What has happened?"

"Th-the Laird has died," her mother answered.

Tears were streaming down her face, and her father embraced his wife, looking over her shoulder at Edina.

"It was very quick," he told her sadly. "He was out hunting, and the horse he was riding missed his footing while he was galloping. Laird Davie fell and broke his neck and fractured his skull, but he died instantly and did not suffer."

Edina was shocked and sad about Laird Findlay's death, of course, but her first thoughts were for Aidan and the effect it would have on him.

"Do you have any wine?" Edina's mother asked.

"I am sorry, Mother," she replied. "We never keep wine or whisky. I am sure you can understand why. Let me dress and I can get you some ale."

While she was dressing, Edina wondered how she would break the news to Aidan. He would be devastated; first his brother and now his father. How was he going to cope?

I will have to be the strong one now, she thought resolutely. He will need to lean on me and I will support him.

When she was fully clothed, Edina heated some mulled ale and gave a glass to each of her parents.

"How is Lady Eleanor taking it?" she asked them.

"She is crushed, of course," her father replied, "but putting a brave face on things. She is consoling herself with the fact that he did not have a long, lingering death. She says that she would rather lose him this way than watch him suffer."

At that moment, the door opened and Aidan entered. He was filthy and stank of fish, but usually Edina had his bath ready for him, and they would sit and chat about the happenings of the day before eating. Now his face lit up.

"Auntie Bettie! Uncle Roy!" He smiled widely as he saw them, then said: "I'm sorry I cannot hug you, but I'm not very clean."

At that moment, he noticed the expression on their faces and frowned. He glanced at Edina, then asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Aidan," Edina said softly, "your father is dead. It was a hunting accident, quick and painless. I am so sorry."

Aidan could say nothing, because he felt nothing. Edina stepped forward and put her arms around him, but for once, he could not return the embrace. His father was dead, but he could not take it in. He was not capable of speech, sensation, or movement. He was frozen with shock.

Edina guided him to a chair and helped him sit down, then went to pour him some ale, but when she put the cup in his hand, he merely cradled it without lifting it to his lips. He looked as if he were in a trance.

"Aidan, your mother is coping, but she would be better if she could see you," Bettina said gently. "You are all she has left now, and she needs you."

That was when it hit Aidan like a punch in the stomach. His father was dead, no longer walking the earth, and he would never see him again. The pain, not physical but emotional, almost shattered him as the reality hit him then invaded his consciousness. They had said goodbye on the worst of terms, and the Laird had likely still been resentful and angry with his son when he began his search for Aidan.

"I will never forgive myself," he said huskily.

"For what?"

Edina was puzzled, and she knelt down beside his chair to look into his face, hating the sadness she saw there.

"The last time we spoke, we argued bitterly," Aidan replied. "I forgave him, but I have no idea if he ever forgave me."

"He did," Roy told him. "He and your mother had a long talk, and she made him see that Fenella was not the right woman for you, and you would have both been desperately unhappy. He arranged another match for Fenella, and she seems to be very content, so you see, things worked out better for all concerned, and you have absolutely nothing to blame yourself for. Laird Davie was not angry with you—in fact he wanted to come and see you, so please do not torture yourself for no reason, Aidan. Your father loved you."

Aidan took a sip of his ale, then a thought occurred to him.

"Did he say anything about my taking over the Lairdship?" he asked.

"He has written everything down in his will, Aidan," Roy replied. "He did not confide in me, he has left all that to his lawyer."

Aidan sighed and put his face in his hands. All he could think about now was how to get home to his mother, and how distraught she must be; what a terrible son he was.

Edina's heart was breaking for him. She knew how much his father had meant to him, and she put her arms around him and embraced him tenderly. The Laird had also been a good friend to her, of course, but he did not mean as much to her as her own father, who was sitting looking at her at this moment. It would break her heart to lose him or her mother, she thought.

Edina withheld her own tears with an effort and became brisk.

"If we are leaving tomorrow, we must be ready," she announced.

She gently eased Aidan out of his chair and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Come," she said. "Time to bathe."

She had to hold Aidan that night while he wept, but after they had shared a few happy memories, he was able to fall asleep in her arms.

They left early the next morning, and Aidan knew that by the time they arrived at the castle, his father's funeral would already have taken place. Even in winter, there was only so long a body could be preserved, and the carriage would take at least five days to cover the fifty miles to Achnabreck.

The journey seemed endless, but when they arrived at last in the late afternoon, Lady Findlay was the first to greet them. She ran out of the castle and threw herself into her son's arms, and they embraced wordlessly for a while before she looked into Aidan's face and smiled through her tears.

"I am so glad to see you, Aidan," she whispered, then held out her hand to Edina.

"How are you, Mother?" he asked, looking down into her dear face.

She seemed to have aged since he had last seen her, but perhaps he was looking at the ravages of grief.

"I am coping, my darling," she replied, with a valiant attempt to smile. "These things take time, so I am told."

Edina noticed that lady Findlay was dressed in unrelieved black, and cursed herself for having no black clothes at all.

"I am so sorry, Milady." Edina hugged Lady Findlay. "Please let me know if there is anything I can do."

"I will, of course, Edina."

Then she looked from one of them to the other and back again.

"Are you two man and wife now?" she asked hopefully.

Edina nodded, wiping away tears of her own.

"Yes, Lady Eleanor," she replied. "We are."

"I am so glad," Lady Findlay said. "Welcome to the family, Lady Findlay."

Aidan's heart skipped a beat.

"The Lairdship is mine?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes, my darling," his mother replied. "But we will talk about all that later. Come and eat."

"No," Aidan said firmly. "Where is Father?"

"With Lewis," Lady Findlay replied, and fresh tears began to course down her cheeks.

"As they should be," Aidan whispered.

There was some comfort in knowing that his father and brother were resting together, he thought. It was fanciful, since they were both dead, yet it gave Aidan some solace to think of it.

They went inside and settled themselves in Aidan's bedchamber. It seemed strange to Edina that she was here and not in her own room.

"We will have to wash the dust off ourselves," Edina remarked, looking down at her creased and dirty clothing.

"No. Lie with me for a while."

Aidan climbed onto his bed, held out his arms, and Edina nestled herself into them. They lay in silence for a while.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked at last.

"About the first time I kissed you," he replied, laughing softly. "When I asked you to marry me. You were the first woman I ever loved, and you will be the last."

"I am so glad to hear it," Edina whispered. "I could not bear the thought of sharing you with anyone else, Aidan. I love you and I know your father would be proud of you."

He smiled sadly and nuzzled her neck.

The funeral had been small and intimate, because Aidan had not been able to arrive in time, but now a memorial service had been arranged so that the whole Findlay family was able to pay its respects to a man they had all loved and respected.

The castle chapel was not big enough to hold all the staff of the castle, villagers and family who wanted to attend, yet Lady Findlay and Aidan were glad of this, since it showed how well-regarded the Laird had been. In the end, they held the ceremony in the village church, which was not much bigger. It was, indeed, so crowded that there was a small queue outside.

Aidan had been expected to make a speech, so he and Edina had laboured over it for hours, helped by some input from Edina's mother and father, and Lady Eleanor. It was not a very long speech and did not express everything Aidan wanted to say, but he felt it had delivered how he felt without going into too much detail.

When he stood in front of the packed congregation, Aidan felt terrified, but he reminded himself that as the Laird, everyone now looked up to and depended on him. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and swallowed down more tears. He would not turn into a child in front of everyone. He began to speak.

"First of all," he said, with what he hoped was an authoritative ring in his voice, "my name is not Lewis Findlay, but Aidan Findlay. My beloved brother died almost three years ago. However, my family had personal reasons for keeping it from you, but now I can tell you the truth."

There was a collective gasp of shock from around the church, but Aidan was not to be deterred.

He went on, "I know how shocked many of you will be at this news, but rest assured it was not an easy decision for us."

Later, Aidan would find out that many people had already suspected the truth.

"Words cannot begin to express my love for my father," he began. "He was the best father a boy ever had, and the best man I ever knew. He taught my brother and me all there was to know about being a man, and when my wife"—he indicated Edina—"lived with us while we were children, he showed us how to treat the fairer sex. He was supportive of everything we did, and when we lost our playmate, he comforted my brother and me so that we did not feel her loss quite so keenly. He guided us through the journey into manhood and disciplined us when we needed it, which was quite often, since teenage boys are not the most obedient of people."

There was a ripple of laughter as he said this, and he smiled.

"My mother will tell you that he was a wonderful, considerate husband too, but like any family, even a loving one, we have had our squabbles. No doubt we will continue to do so, but we will still love each other.

I hope you will agree with me that my father was a wonderful Laird, but like any human being, he made mistakes, as we all do. Still, I hope you all remember him with as much fondness and love as I do. I know that I will have to try hard to be as good a Laird as he was, but I will do my best. Now, please, let us say a prayer in his honour."

Reverend McPhee, the minister, offered up a short prayer, and they all filed out of the church, but their ordeal was not quite over.

Outside they all had to endure both congratulations and commiserations on Aidan and Edina's marriage and the death of the Laird, but afterwards they went to visit the tiny graveyard where Lewis and his father lay.

Lady Findlay was disconsolate as she stood by her husband's grave, looking at the headstone and thinking of the husband she had loved so much. As if reading her mind, Aidan put his arms around her, and they stood in reverent silence for a while.

"You were a good man, Davie," Lady Findlay said. "But your journey has ended. Aidan and Edina's has just begun, and we must all move on. Goodbye, my darling."

She bent down and kissed his headstone, then laid a bunch of wildflowers on it, before doing the same to her son's.

"Goodbye, my dear Lewis," she whispered as she placed more flowers on the grave.

Aidan took Edina's hand and squeezed it. He felt his spirits lift; he had said farewell. The future belonged to Edina and him.