Chapter 18

It all seemed like a dream. A nightmare, to be more precise. Eleonor stared ahead at the pristine altar at which she was to be slaughtered, where the Duke awaited her. The stained-glass windows cast light upon the ceremony. The church was full, the guests gaily dressed in the most modern of fashions on account of the duke's status. She did not know most of the people, and yet they were here to witness her life changing forever. She saw them as hawks, as complicit as her father in this terrible ritual.

It did not feel as though they were her legs that propelled her, inch by inch, closer and closer to the altar. The hand that her father's arm was locked a little too tightly onto did not feel like her own. She wanted to tear away from him, to scream, to run away. But she knew that it was not an option. This was happening. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she sniffed.

"Those had better be tears of utmost joy," her father hissed through barely moving lips. "Put a smile on your face if you know what is good for you."

Eleonor forced a wooden smile onto her face, even as the emotions in her raged on. She searched, in the crowd, for a friendly face to focus on. She found it in the Duke's daughter, Lily. The young girl was all smiles. In her gay dress and curled, blond tresses, she looked genuinely happy about the marriage. No doubt she had ideas about Eleonor being her new mother. She wished she could be what they all wanted her to be, a dutiful daughter, an obedient wife, a devoted stepmother. But she could not. She knew it within herself that she could not. Not without a piece of her dying with every passing day.

Jane should have been there. Their entire lives, she had supported Eleonor through thick and thin. If she were here, she would be trying to catch Eleonor's eye, to wordlessly reassure her. Eleonor had hoped that Jane had found Ramsay, she had nurtured the thought that Jane would return with Ramsay in tow, and this wedding would fall through.

Alas, there was no hope of that now. Eleonor knew that Jane must have tried her best. Now, Eleonor just wanted to know that she was doing well and living as best as she could as the horrid Commander's wife.

They had reached the altar now. Eleonor stole a look at her husband-to-be and saw that he was looking at her as one would look at something they intended to devour. There was no doubt as to his eagerness to bed her. He was bedecked in ducal finery: an emerald suit lined with diamonds and perhaps. He was portly and heavily perfumed. Recently, she had become sensitive to certain odors and now she did her best not to empty her breakfast onto the floor of the church.

The priest began a litany which Eleonor did not follow. She was thinking about Ramsay and the baby that was growing within her belly. How would she keep her secret from the Duke? What would become of her if she was found out?

Eleonor felt like a piece of meat as the Duke gazed at her. She shrunk where she stood. She wanted to be reduced to some vapor, some formless, invisible thing that could not be caught. She would fly out of the church, past the trees, sail in the clouds, float to where she had first met Ramsay. She would search the entire earth for him, if only to find out what had truly happened.

Her father squeezed her hand and she stared at him sharply. She noticed that everyone in the church as looking at her, and realized that it was time for her to say "I do." She swallowed. With those two words she would seal her fate and shut off all possibility of leaving this church a free woman.

She had to. The entire church was waiting. But the words were stuck in her throat.

"Daughter," her father whispered to her, "this is not the time to be a mute doll. Say the words."

There was a sharp murmur in the crowd. Commander Pierce was at the church's door, Jane in tow. They both looked the worse for wear. He was bruised all over and he looked filthy and exhausted. His clothes clung to his body with sweat. Jane looked like she had been through hardship. Her clothes were distressed and her hair was a mess. She looked like she was under duress. The Commander was holding her quite like one would hold a hostage and not a wife. Eleonor's first instinct was to rush to Jane's aid. She would have done it if her father had not clamped her down with a vice-like grip. "What is the meaning of this, Commander Pierce?" he bellowed.

The commander paid him no mind. "That woman, Eleonor Marsh," he said in his stage voice, loud enough to ring through all the corners of the church, "is not a proper lady and therefore is not fit to marry an Englishman, let alone a duke of such high repute." Jane strained against him, as though to stop him, but he dug his fingers into her wrist, and she yelped in pain.

"And why is that?" the priest asked with his eyebrow raised.

"Because she is a consummate fornicator" - there was a collective gasp from the guests - "with the evidence of her lust growing inside her. And it is no ordinary bastard in her belly," he continued. "No. It is the bastard of a Highland beast!"

* * *

Jane was exhausted. Commander Pierce had stopped only once on the way. Not yet well settled from the ride with Alistair and forced on another ride with a grueling pace, Jane's energy was all but depleted. She had had the presence of mind to rips bits of her dress and throw them on the ground as the journey progressed. She hoped that they would lead Alistair and Ramsay right to her. Commander Pierce had not noticed, for he rode with a singlemindedness that bordered on madness. He had been possessed by his mission, to gain the Duke of Lancaster's favor at any cost.

When they had gotten to the chapel, he had dismounted and dragged her off the horse, creating a scene outside. Thankfully, most of the guests were already inside. She had dug her feet in the ground and resisted his pulling with all her might. Alas, she was no match for him, as he dragged her in the direction of the entrance anyway.

The few people around had protested. "How dare you treat a lady in that manner, sir?" one of the guests, a thin man in a dark clothes said. He walked up to Commander Pierce. "I see you are a soldier. What sort of a soldier drags a woman? Unhand her at once!"

Commander Pierce growled at him. "Get out or I shall empty your belly on the cobblestone," he had threatened, and the man had stepped away as if scalded. The Commander had then dragged Jane inside the church and made his damning announcement.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Duke of Lancaster had inquired, anger flashing in his eyes. Commander Pierce had walked towards the altar, dragging Jane along.

"Your Grace-," Jane started quickly, unsure of what to say but desperate to say something, anything, that might save the situation and her sister. ""

"Jane!"

Jane's head whipped around to see Alistair and Ramsay standing at the entrance of the church. The guests gasped at the sight of the menacing Highlander warriors.

"Alistair!" Jane exclaimed and made to run to him but the Commander held her hand even more tightly.

"Let her go!" Alistair said, taking a step forward.

"If you want her, Scottish scum," Commander Pierce said, "come and get her."

Alistair took another step forward. "Stop!" Jane exclaimed. "He means to kill you!"

Ramsay sighted Eleonor, her face still white from shock, her hand in the grip of an older man that Ramsay assumed was her father. "Eleonor!" he exclaimed and advanced towards the altar.

When she saw him, life returned to her. She broke free of her father's grip and ran to him. They met in the middle and fell into an embrace. Eleonor clung to him and sobbed against his neck. Ramsay held on to her and whispered apologies and promises into her hair.

The guests were in shock, not sure whether to flee the savage Scots or to stay put and watch the drama play out.

Andrew Marsh and the Duke of Lancaster were furious.

"Let go of my bride!" the Duke commanded Ramsay.

"Eleonor!" her father called, his face red with rage, "Return to this altar immediately!"

Eleonor ignored him. "Why did you leave me?" she asked, with tears in her voice. "I waited for you. Night and day, I waited."

"I didnae leave ye, me love," Ramsay said. "I was kidnapped by the Commander. 'Twas Jane and Alistair that found me, rotting in a prison cell, pining fer ye. I would never leave you!"

"Oh, I knew you would not!" Eleonor exclaimed. "I knew it in my heart and in my soul!" She embraced him, and he held on to her as though his life depended upon it. Still in Ramsay's embrace, she turned to Jane, her face the very picture of happiness. "I can never thank ye enough, Jane! Thank you for finding him. Thank you, thank you!"

"What do you have to do with all this?" Jane's father asked her.

"As you can see, Eleonor's beloved did not abandon her. He was captured by Commander Pierce, so he could not take responsibility for the blessing that he and Eleonor have created together. I helped my sister find out the truth and reunite her with the father of her child. I was captured by the Scots, yes, but that led me to the man whom I sought by pure fluke. However, the Commander here kidnapped me, beat me, and brought me here to reveal what he knew would ruin Eleonor, only to obtain the Dukes favor!"

"A man cannot kidnap his wife, that is absurd!" her father said.

"I am not his wife!" Jane declared. "I was captured by the Highlanders before I ever reached him! Or did he forget to mention that to you?"

"You two girls are an embarrassment. You are wantons, just like your mother!" Marsh bellowed, changing the subject, spittle flying out of his mouth.

Jane's forehead furrowed in confusion. "What do you speak of, Father?"

"Like you two, that woman chose to follow the wishes of her heart and her passion instead of doing her duty to me. She dishonored the family name. Dragged it through the mud and set it on fire," her father said, vibrating with rage.

"What are you implying, Father?" Jane asked.

Their father barked a short, hard laugh that was utterly devoid of mirth. "Your mother never loved me. She loved my brother, Howard. She married me only because I was the firstborn and her family made her."

This revelation hit Jane and Eleonor hard. Looks of confusion appeared on their faces.

"And then you killed your mother in childbirth!" He pointed at Jane. Then he turned to his oldest daughter. "She brings nothing but trouble. She is nothing but a constant reminder of your mother's infidelity and she has the green eyes to show it!"

"Mother's infidelity?" Jane mustered the strength to say. "'Green eyes?"

"Yes," her father said. "You have the same eyes as your father." He turned to Eleonor. "The sister whom you defend so valiantly is only partly so. Her true father is your Uncle Howard. I should have left her to die with him."

Jane's eyes widened in disbelief. "Uncle… Uncle Howard was my father?" Thoughts and memories overwhelmed her. Of having his eyes. Of his tenderness and his special treatment of her. He had been more of a father to her than the man she had called father for eighteen years. Now it was all clear. Everything she had known was a lie. Had Uncle Howard known? Had he been as much in the dark as she? She doubted it. He must have known, for he had treated her like a daughter. She was dizzy, but she knew that she had to get as much information about this situation as possible.

"What dae ye mean by yer last statement?" Alistair asked Andrew Marsh. "Ye should have left her tae die with him?"

"I answer to no Scottish beasts," Andrew Marsh responded.

"Answer me then," Jane said. "What did you mean by it?"

Andrew Marsh smiled a sad smile.

"Your mother thought me a saint. That was her second, and most fatal mistake," he said, "the first being your conception. When I looked at you at birth, I knew what she had done. I realized that the fire between her and my brother, which I had thought had ebbed after our marriage was still there, and it had consumed them both. As she lay dying, she asked me to forgive her and Howard, and to raise you as my own." He sighed. "I did as she asked, but I could never forgive Howard for what he had done. He had to die. So I waited. For almost two decades, I waited patiently.

"The war was the perfect cover for my plan as Howard was a soldier. I sent assassins to kill him during the battle and made it seem like he was felled by the enemy. And then the two of you had to ruin everything and I had to find quick solutions to all the problems you created."

A look passed between Jane and Alistair.

"Murderer!" Jane exclaimed, her voice raw with pain. Her entire life, she had been despised by Andrew Marsh for a wrong that she was in no way responsible for. She had been told that her mother had been a woman about whom nothing was particularly extraordinary: she loved her husband, she loved Eleonor. She ran the home efficiently. Full stop. She had never known about her passionate side, the side that drove her to do things that were forbidden by custom and convention. Now that she was in love with Alistair, Jane understood her completely. And now, Jane thought about how different it would been if Uncle Howard - her father - had still been alive. She knew in her heart of hearts that he would have called her his own. He would not have been critical of her relationship with Alistair. He would have understood her and supported her.

He would have been a loving father. Andrew Marsh had taken that away from her. A fresh wave of anger washed over her.

"Marsh!" the Duke said finally, taking center stage. "You knew?"

"Your Grace," their father said, a slight tremor in his voice betraying him. "Your Grace, I-"

"He knew!" Eleonor spat.

"I have had enough of this circus!" he exclaimed. "I am not interested in family scuffles. This is most undignified. The Marsh family has embarrassed the Kingdom of England with their display here today. I have no desire to wade into the matter." He turned to the man who would have been his father-in-law had things turned out differently. "You however, sir, almost tricked me into marrying an impure woman and that I will not forgive you."

Mr. Marsh shook his head. "I could never attempt to trick Your Grace–"

Commander Pierce decided that was his moment to grab what he had come for and stepped forward.

"I shall kill her defiler for you, Your Grace," he declared lustily.

"Don't!" Jane said, trying to restrain him.

The Commander turned to her. "Try to stop me, and I will kill you too," he threatened.

"Let her go," Alistair said. "If you as much as harm one hair on her head, it will be the end of you."

The Commander chuckled. "Do not make promises you cannot keep, vermin. I will kill this whore faster than the eyes can blink." Commander Pierce declared. "And afterwards I will kill you and have your head mounted on a spike in front of my castle so all can see the fate of Scottish bastards who go against the English."

He looked to the Duke, as if seeking validation or approval, but the man's countenance was impassive. Commander Pierce turned back to Alistair. "I shall enjoy it enormously."

"We will not have bloodshed in the house of God," the priest said, his tone severe. "Enough of this! I have heard enough disrespect in this holy place. Take whatever grievances you have outside."

He turned to the Duke. "Your Grace, please."

"You shall do as the priest says," the Duke said. "Immediately."

Alistair nodded and stepped toward the door and thus the Commander.

"Come any closer and I will kill her," Commander Pierce said.

"Did you not hear my order?" the Duke asked, his voice raised.

"Yes, Your Grace," Commander Pierce said, cowed. "I shall-"

"I challenge ye tae a duel, Commander," Alistair said. This caused a stirring among the congregants. "Right now. Outside."

"Are savages even allowed to do that? Challenge honorable Englishmen to duels?" the Commander asked. Alistair ignored the comment and turned to Andrew Marsh. "I am fighting for Jane's and her sister's honor. If I win, you shall let both Jane and Eleonor marry whom they wish."

Andrew Marsh was silent.

"Marsh!" the Duke prompted.

"I agree," Andrew Marsh said finally.

Alistair then turned to the Duke, to confirm what His Grace had said earlier. "I trust that ye are a man of honor and will keep yer word from afore, thus respecting the outcome of the duel. If I win, ye will abandon any pretense to Eleonor's hand."

The man nodded. "That is agreed. As I said, I shall not entangle myself in this family's business."

"Very well," Alistair said. "Then we shall step outside, and the duel shall begin."