Chapter 6

6

I t had been far too long since Gemma had heard from Colin. Really, it had been only a few days, but to go from cheeky looks in the corridor and meeting on the beach at night to absolutely nothing was worrisome.

“Where are yer thoughts this morn?” Muriel asked.

Gemma and Muriel were sitting in the drawing room at the Gordons’ home, tending to their duties. The sheep had been shorn earlier in the spring, but they were still not finished with turning their spoils into thread and fabric for clothing and other household textiles. Muriel was at the spinning wheel, turning the freshly carded wool into nice, workable spools, while Gemma sat at the loom weaving.

“I’m sorry, I dinnae mean tae ignore ye,” Gemma said brightly.

“That’s no answer,” Muriel teased lightly.

“I…” she feigned a cough. “I must be catching ill. ‘Tis the season for summer colds, after all,” she said weakly.

Muriel hummed in acknowledgement, clearly not believing Gemma for a second, but at least she didn’t press her any further. She really had been distracted for the past couple days. That morning alone, she’d had to restart several times on the loom because she wasn’t paying attention and the stitches were too loose. Usually, she was quite skilled at such handicrafts, so to mess up so often was abnormal. It was a good thing her mother was otherwise occupied with candle making outside, for she would certainly scold her daughter for her sloppiness.

“How about ye go take a walk in the fresh air? I’ll keep yer mother occupied,” Muriel offered.

“Thank ye, Muriel. Clearly my mind is far too muddled for this loom,” Gemma said gratefully, rising from her stool and making her way across the room. Just before she was out the door, Muriel called to her once again.

“If ye ever need tae speak tae someone about what’s happenin’ in that head o’ yers, ye ken I’m here. I willnae judge ye,” her maid and friend said softly.

Gemma nodded, a halfhearted smile on her face, and left. Her brothers were all out tending to their trades, and Mrs. Gordon was making a fuss about the candles that she and the cook were making. Their backs were turned as Gemma came out of the house, so she was able to sneak away without being seen.

When she was a good distance away from the house, she let her hair loose from its cap and pins, then broke into a run. It felt so wonderful to have the wind ripple through her dark locks and kiss her skin the way it did, so gentle and unobtrusive. Out there on the cliffs by the sea, she felt free. After running for some time, she became short of breath, so she plopped herself down in a little patch of heather and looked out over the cliffs at the sea. It was a clear day — no clouds, bright, shining sun, and glimmering blue-green waters. No ships dotted the horizon. Not that she expected any, but the sight of a ship would mean the return of her father, which then meant that she was one step closer to further sealing her betrothal to Colin.

She had never been lad-crazy like Violet or some of the other young ladies at the castle. It wasn’t that she didn’t think other lads handsome; certainly she did, she was not blind. But for the longest time, she had felt a particular connection to Colin. Even as children, she sought out his company instead.

Her wishes and musings were granted soon enough, for in the distance, a lone figure caught her eye. The meadows near the cliffs were not remote, but they were not really on the way to anything either, so she wondered who it could be. As the figure came closer, she realized it was Colin, and that he was very deep in thought, as his brow was furrowed and his jaw was clenched.

“Colin!” she cried, jumping up to greet him.

Almost immediately, that tense, thoughtful look melted away, and was replaced with a kind smile.

“Gemma!”

His voice was gentle and warm, but she detected something in it that unsettled her. She could not put her finger on it, but smiled and embraced him nonetheless. Even his touch felt a little more tentative than usual.

“Colin, what’s the matter? Ye seem…different,” she observed. “And a wee bit out of sorts. I havenae heard from ye in days.”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped nervously.

“I…Gemma,” he said, his voice breaking a little.

“Colin…what is wrong? Yer makin’ me nervous,” she said, holding onto his strong arms.

“Gemma, we need tae talk. ‘Tis quite serious.”

All manner of scenarios ran through her mind, none of them good.

“Gemma, I…I am leaving,” he said weakly.

She blinked rapidly in disbelief.

“Leaving? What d’ye mean?”

“I mean…I’m leaving the clan. My father an’ I.”

Gemma would have rather dropped a large rock on her toe than hear Colin say those words and mean them.

“But…why? What…what happened?”

“My father…” Colin cleared his throat, perhaps in an effort to keep from becoming too emotional. Gemma held his face in her hands and forced him to lock his green eyes onto hers.

“What?” she asked again.

“The laird…isnae happy wi’ him. An’...Christ, I…” he was struggling with his words, something Gemma thought did not bode well.

“Colin, what’s wrong?”

“He’s…arranged for me tae marry another lass.”

Gemma felt absolutely gobsmacked by this news. If Colin did not look and act so serious, she might have thought this was an elaborate joke.

“No! He cannae…how could he do such a thing?!” she cried.

Colin shook his head, reddish curls shaking in the wind.

“He’s already done it,” he said. His eyes became glassy with unshed tears as he spoke. “Gemma, I am so sorry. I…please, believe me when I tell ye I’m just as blindsided by this news as ye are.”

Gemma still didn’t understand any of this abruptness, but the pained look on Colin’s face was enough to break her.

“Please, dinnae go! I need ye here,” she implored, still holding onto his face.

Colin reached up and covered her hands with his own much larger, rougher ones, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I ken. I dinnae want tae leave, but I have no choice.”

“There is always a choice!” she whispered hoarsely, feeling hot tears form in her own eyes.

“Not this time. Gemma…please. Dinnae make this any harder than it has tae be.”

Then she realized he was crying too. The tears flowed down his cheeks, and he could not stop them. She followed suit, her shoulders heaving with effort.

“Colin, I dinnae ken what I’ll do without ye!” she sobbed.

“Ye are a strong, wise woman. Ye will be perfectly well,” he tried to soothe her, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

“The castle willnae be the same without ye. Nothin’ will!”

In one final act of desperation and love, Colin pressed his lips to hers. This kiss was unlike any of the others they’d shared. There was no softness or sweetness in this one. No, this one was full of nostalgia, unfulfilled promises, regret, and the fire of passion. That last bit made it all the more painful and bittersweet.

When they reluctantly broke apart, the both of them were crying — Colin was desperately trying to hold it back, but Gemma was openly weeping.

“I c-cannae lose y-y-ye,” she stuttered through sobs.

“I willnae be lost. Gemma, I will always be here,” he said, pointing at her heart.

“‘Tis a poor substitute for the real thing,” she cried.

“I ken. It pains me as well. I dinnae want tae leave ye. But ken this; I will never stop lovin’ ye, no matter what.”

“My heart is yers,” she whispered, realizing that she could not keep him any longer.

“Goodbye, Gemma. I love ye,” he said, slowly disentangling himself from her arms.

“I love ye too, Colin. I always will,” she said. Her hair whipped around in the wind, some strands sticking to her wet tear-strewn face.

He gave her one last longing look before he squeezed her hand and walked to the direction of the castle.

With that squeeze, Gemma felt as if all color, light, and joy had been sapped out of the world. The wind was now biting rather than pleasant, the sun blistering rather than warm, and the crash of the waves on the cliffs sounded more like terrifying roars than a calming rhythm. When he was out of sight again, she collapsed into the patch of heathers and wept. There was nothing else for her to do.

The world was still grey and dull the next day. This was partly due to the fact that the sky was indeed cloudy, the sun hidden by their thick gray puffs. It was certainly going to rain sometime later that day. Even as she awoke, she could smell it in the air. She laid in her bed for far too long, staring at the wooden beams. She felt no reason to rise and dress. There was a cold, hollow feeling inside her. It wasn’t until Muriel came upstairs and coaxed her that she got up. At breakfast, the food felt and tasted like ash in her mouth, rather than bread and butter.

She and Muriel were due at the castle later. There was a quilting bee to celebrate the impending birth of Jenny’s second baby, but Gemma was in no mood for celebration. However, a promise was a promise, and her mother would scold her for not showing face when asked. So, when it was time, she dragged behind Muriel to the castle. If Muriel noticed her foul mood, she said nothing. That was peculiar; usually Muriel wanted to know everything that went on in Gemma’s mind — sometimes just for gossip, sometimes to help her.

As they made their way down the corridor to the kitchen, where the women would gather for the occasion, they were stopped by none other than Bryce MacNeill.

“Ah, Miss Gordon. Yer lookin’ well taeday, but for that frown,” he said cheerily with an edge of concern. He nodded in greeting to Muriel, who scampered away with a mischievous grin. She’d always thought Bryce to be a fine man, so surely she thought she was giving them some alone time. Truly, it was the last thing Gemma wanted, especially after their awkward conversation when he’d sought her out on laundry day.

“I have had a difficult night,” she replied tersely.

“Oh?” he asked, head cocked. Christ, he really looked like Colin. It only made her heart swell and burst again. Without meaning to, tears began to stream down her face.

“Colin…he left,” she said weakly.

Bryce gasped, his eyebrows shooting up, eyes widening.

“What d’ye mean?”

“Ye dinnae ken?”

He shook his head vigorously.

“Nay. Sometimes my father does not tell me all the business. This is news tae me; what d’ye mean he’s left?”

“He said he an’ his father are leaving the clan. It sounded serious. An’...he said his father…is marryin’ him to another lass,” she explained, her voice quiet. If she spoke any louder, she knew it would break, and she would burst into tears again. Her eyes were already sore and a little puffy from the amount she’d cried yesterday.

“I’m so sorry, Gemma. I really am,” Bryce said, his voice full of tender sympathy. He reached out for a hug, and Gemma welcomed it. Even though it was not Colin’s frame, it still felt good to be held in her time of need, and Bryce was still a good friend.

“I dinnae understand it,” she said wearily.

“I’ll say…Colin has been odd lately,” Bryce said.

“What?” She asked, looking up into Bryce’s bright green eyes.

“Yesterday, at training. He was aggressive. More than I’ve ever seen him. He injured me while we were sparring. Look ‘ere,” he said, pulling back his shirt to reveal a small red gash.

Gemma gasped. What in God’s name was going on?

“He did that tae ye?”

“Aye,” Bryce said grimly. “I dinnae ken what the matter was, but…somethin’ was wrong. Maybe that’s part of why he’s leavin’ the clan.”

“I dinnae think he was capable of such…things. I have tae say, Bryce, I dinnae understand any of this.”

“‘Tis difficult, I ken. It shows his true character. ‘Tis good yer not mixed up wi’ him now. I want ye tae ken…I’d never leave ye, not even if ye asked,” he said, patting the top of her head.

It struck her as an odd gesture and odd choice of words, but…perhaps he was shocked. People acted strangely when faced with new and unexpected circumstances. He could be forgiven for his oddness.

“I appreciate that, Bryce. ‘Tis good tae have friends in time of need.”

Bryce bristled at Gemma’s use of the word “friends.” Hadn’t he made his intentions clear that day he’d sought her out?

“I didnae ken ye were so close,” he prodded while she was still wrapped in his arms. Lord, she was a pretty thing, he thought as he looked down at her.

She nodded.

“Aye, I…have strong feelings for him.” she said.

“How long have ye had such feelings?”

“Nearly two years,” she answered.

The pieces fit together in Bryce’s mind. That matched the timeline of Colin’s behavior. He’d stopped bedding women at the tavern around that time, and had been less inclined to go out in general. Although he already knew the answer, he still wanted to hear Gemma’s perspective.

“Am I…correct in understanding that…he was the lucky lad from whom you expected a betrothal?”

She nodded ruefully, tears sliding down her rosy cheeks once again.

“Oh, Gemma. I’m so sorry,” he said, holding her even closer.

As outwardly sympathetic as he seemed, he was seething inside. The both of them had kept this from him for nearly two years. And his mother had kept her affair secret for…God knows how long. He was tired of being kept in the dark. And as the laird’s son, he had certain privileges and duties. It was only right that he should marry Gemma, the prettiest lass and also a good friend. Now, in her time of need, he would make sure to comfort her in whatever way possible.

“I’ll always be here for ye,” he whispered into her hair that smelled of lilac and fresh soap.

And he would be, especially as her husband. It was all going according to plan.

When Gemma and Muriel returned home that evening, it was drizzling. It had poured rain all mid-morning and well into the afternoon, making the earth soggy and petticoats sopping with mud and water. Gemma was only too glad to take off her shoes as she entered the house.

“Smells like supper soon,” Muriel said, lifting her nose in the air.

“I dinnae ken about ye, but I’d like tae get out of these wet things ‘afore I catch a real cold and die,” Gemma said. Honestly that last part did not sound so bad. She had reached that dull part of grief where nothing mattered. If she went to sleep forever, she’d be happy.

“People dinnae die of colds,” Muriel said sternly, as a way of scolding Gemma for such free talk.

“Perhaps I shall be the first,” Gemma said dryly. “In any case, this is uncomfortable. I’ll go an’ change.”

“D’ye need help?”

Gemma shook her head.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you though, Muriel. Ye ought tae change as well, at least for the sake of comfort.”

With that, Gemma trudged up the stairs, carrying her muddy shoes in one hand. She’d clap them together out of her window to rid them of mud. She sighed as she shut the door behind her, dropped her shoes and sagged against the wall. Today had taken a lot out of her. As sad as she was about Colin’s departure, it would not do to look so forlorn at what was supposed to be a celebration for someone else. Jenny’s baby was due any day, and Gemma could not let her own heartbreak cloud someone else’s joy.

As she unlaced her bodice and began to shed her wet clothes, she thought of Bryce’s odd words to her in the castle — that he’d never leave her like that. How odd, as if he were pitting himself against Colin. They were brothers in arms. Surely that had to mean something. Gemma knew there was a strong, special bond between soldiers. Battle did horrid things to men, but it strengthened their bonds. She’d heard Captain Frazier talk about such things many a time.

As she pulled on a clean nightdress and a dressing gown to go over it, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye, perched on her pillow. How had she not seen it before?

As she braided her long locks into a side braid for the evening, she noticed it was a beautiful seashell — white with a bluish hue, polished to perfection. Tied to the shell were two small pieces of parchment. Gemma’s heart thudded in her ears. Who had been in her house? Clearly, it was a message of some sort…slowly, she picked up the shell and unfurled the first piece of parchment. She gasped as she recognized Colin’s handwriting. It was clearly written in haste, but still, she appreciated it. As her eyes scanned the parchment, tears welled up once more. This was perhaps the most she’d ever cried in her life — would she even have tears to cry after this?

Dearest Gemma, my love,

I am so sorry I had to leave you. Please believe me when I say it was not my wish. The powers that be determined our fate otherwise. But rest assured, I will come back for you. I will find a way; I will make it so. Wild highland horses cannot drag me away from you for too long.

Please stay strong, like the woman I know you are. You are kind, strong, capable, and if anyone can weather the storm, I know it is you.

Do not forget me. I wrote that poem from a place of love, but I now realize it is not the most wonderful thing to read, so I have included a much nicer one here. I had such feelings about that night at the beach, I simply had to write them down. Keep these, with this seashell as remembrances of me. I have taken the liberty of stealing a handkerchief from you — you can tell your mother you lost it. You were not at home earlier, so I wrote this letter in haste and snuck through your window.

I love you so much, my darling. Do not lose hope. We shall be together again.

Much love and tender affection,

Your Colin

Gemma’s eyes blurred as she put down the letter, and turned over the seashell. She picked up the next small piece of parchment which had been enclosed with the letter, and read through it. Her heart warmed at reading it — it was indeed a much sweeter poem, but it did invoke such a deep sense of nostalgia:

Beneath the stars that glisten bright,

Two young lovers met that night,

By the seaside, under cover of dark,

They whispered words that lit a spark.

The moon shone bright on the ocean's tide,

As they walked hand in hand, side by side,

Their hearts beat fast, their pulses raced,

As they gazed upon each other's face.

The salty air filled their lungs with glee,

As they stood together by the sea,

Their love was new, yet felt so right,

As they kissed beneath the starry night.

The waves crashed gently on the shore,

As they promised each other forevermore,

To love and cherish, through thick and thin,

Their journey together was about to begin.

As the night drew to a close,

They parted ways, but their love only grows,

Two young lovers who met at the seaside

Under cover of darkness, in each other's sight.

It was a very accurate description of that night — they had pledged themselves to each other under the moon and stars, next to the waves. With any luck, she would figure out how to recreate such a moment. Yes, she was heartbroken, but she was also indeed strong and capable, like Colin had written. She was going to figure out how to get him back.

She had to, for the sake of her heart.