Chapter 14 Castle an Càrn Gorm
The observation room at the top of the tower became Elizabeth's favourite haunt. After staying at Eilein Castle for a few weeks, the dark forest somehow seemed less threatening while the Càrn Gorm Castle looming over the treetops certainly added a fairy-tale-like ambience to her prison. Rendered it both a battlefield and a paradise, in a convoluted way.
Today, she could not even see the castle through the thick fog that lay heavy above Loch Eilein. She had come to appreciate the rugged landscape, the dark forest and the mist that rose from the lake. It had come on so gradually, she had hardly noticed.
Miss MacGregor, the silent one, as she had started to call her in her mind, treated her with cold civility and seemed to prefer as little interaction as possible. She walked about doing her daily chores as Elizabeth was not there. The dogs were better company although they did not talk either, they were certainly a comfort.
Elizabeth had developed a game of sorts, out of sheer boredom. Apart from embroidering elaborate patterns on her finished wardrobe, Elizabeth had not much to occupy her time. There was not one book at Eilein Castle, which probably could be explained by the dampness inside these old walls, but it left her with nothing to do.
The dying of all her clothes to mourning black had been an outlandish request Mrs MacGregor and her daughter had accepted with no objections. Elizabeth wanted to know how far she could go and arranged her curls in a messy birds nest at the top of her head. Miss MacGregor had not even commented which took some of the fun away, she supposed, but it was easier to make a mess with the few hairpins she had left than something more appropriate, which is why she had kept the tangled spectacle for a full week. Adding a little more messiness each day, still; nothing...
A movement caught her eyes through the misty air, someone was paying them a visit. By the look of it, it was Mr and Mrs MacGregor. They visited Moira as often as they could concoct an errand here at Eilein. Their love for their daughter was obvious. Perhaps they could be worked upon to release her? Enticing their parental justice to a wayward and cruelly treated daughter? Elizabeth hurried down the spiral steps and positioned herself in the hall to work on her embroidery. Usually, she would retire somewhere else and let the daughter have some privacy on their visits but not today, Elizabeth thought wryly. She ducked her head in concentration over her work, pretending not to be cognizant of her surroundings as the heavy door to the hall opened up and the visitors let themselves in. She immediately heard Mrs MacGregor greet her daughter but the jovial voice of Mr MacGregor had dropped an octave to a velvety smooth baritone that made her head jerk upwards.
Elizabeth immediately cursed herself for her display of surprise, she would much rather have acted nonchalantly towards the intruder than pay him any attention. Yet, neither her eyes nor her head was inclined to obey her. Laird Eilein had certainly straightened up very nicely in his clean-shaven and immaculate attire, he bore little resemblance to her abductor apart from his blue eyes that were boring into her. The coarse woollen trousers had been replaced with fitted black buckskin breeches, his shirt was snow white and tied with an immaculate brown silk cravat, his coat was black but reflected the bronze and brown in his waistcoat in details on the lapels. She could not help the small smile that erupted at the thought of the stark contrast he portrayed to her gloomy attire and wild hair. He may believe she had gone mad and release her. At least, that was what she hoped.
She would soon learn his sentiments as he came striding purposely in her direction. His eyes had darkened and a deep crevice developed between his brows. He came to a halt two feet from her person and rested one arm on the back of a chair, the other he planted firmly on his hip—his countenance empty of mirth.
"Why have dyed your clothes black? You are not a widow! Are you mourning your betrothed?"
"I am not betrothed."
"I meant before we married, you were flirting with Mr Darcy!"
"Interesting choice of words, Laird Eilein. I would call it something else entirely like abduction, robbing an innocent lady of her freedom, kidnapping although I am hardly a child, I am not yet of age."
Laird Eilein took a step back. It was encouraging that he made the appearance of listening to what she was saying, it tempted her to continue in her vein of thought. "Besides, I was not flirting! Mr Darcy is nothing to me. I was at Pemberley as Miss Darcy's guest."
"I saw you laughing and flirting with him on the lawn, playing your silly games."
"Despite the fact that I am a gentleman's daughter, I have no fortune to speak of, a rather indecorous family you might even call a reprehensible connection and I have relations in trade, laird. Neither Mr Darcy nor his mother deemed me any threat to his marital status."
She could do little harm by enumerating her flaws in this gentleman's eyes, she supposed. She felt no scruples, under the circumstances, to denigrate her own family.
"He seemed to take an inordinate delight in your company, Elizabeth. He may not have touched your heart but you have certainly touched his!"
"We were winning, Laird Eilein. A trait I suspect a gentleman would regard above all else in life, romantic sentiments had nothing to do with it. I had proved myself to be an accomplished archer and not too disastrous at Pall Mall. I implore you to believe me when I tell you that Mr Darcy paid me no particular attention outside the games on the lawn. I never tempted him to dance more than once in a ballroom nor did he seek me out in the parlours for conversation. You are wrong, laird Eilein, if you believe Mr Darcy and I were anything more than indifferent acquaintances. If it was his romantic attachment you were after, you had better abducted Miss Bingley, the sister of his most intimate friend Mr Bingley. She has most certainly formed an attachment to him and I believe he has come a long way to reciprocate her feelings."
The sentiment surprised even herself but it was true. Mr Darcy was reserved but she thought she detected a softening in his stance towards Miss Bingley. She might have worn down his defences by her persistent pursuit. She was mostly delighted, she felt no injury herself towards the union. She wished them genuinely happy if a future union was in the making.
"I can see the smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. I abhor deceit, Elizabeth."
"Really!" Elizabeth did nothing to conceal her sarcasm and let it drip from her voice. "Unfathomable!"
The laird of Eilein threw his hands in the air and strode away from her to the comfort of his staff. Mrs MacGregor pursed her lips as he approached which made Elizabeth believe she was fighting an urge to smile.
"Do you see what I was dealing with? She is obstinate, headstrong and whiny!"
"I have never heard her complain," Mrs MacGregor gainsaid her employer most vehemently.
"You did not have to drag her across rocks and mountains, she is scared stiff of heights and I mean that in the most insensible way. By heights, I mean a few yards..."
While the laird was bickering with his employees, Elizabeth saw a chance to slide out the door and hasten down to the rowboat that was pulled halfway up on the stony island edge.
A hard shove did not move the boat an inch but scraped her hands on the coarse wood. Her whole body weight was needed, she braised her thighs against the bow and shoved with all her might. The boat rocked and fell back to its original position when she became aware of being watched. She needed not to turn round to know who it was. After they had travelled across the country, she could sense his presence a mile away. Like she had a particular survival instinct alerting her to danger, likened to the intimate connection between the hunter and its prey.
Elizabeth gave the stubborn boat a last desperate push, just to prove it would not budge, it did not.
"I thank you for launching the boat for me, Elizabeth. You would meet with greater success if you lifted it off the rocks before you pushed. Laird Eilein sided up to her, lifted the boat a few inches and pushed it effortlessly into the water.
"After you, milady." He gestured for her to climb into the boat.
Bewildered, Elizabeth just stared at him. He sighed theatrically.
"I have something for you, up at Càrn Gorm; a delivery."
"A delivery? I am not expecting any deliveries. My wardrobe is finished." She was sure it was a ruse of some kind to lure her into an even more precarious position than the one she was already in. Her sojourn at Eilein suddenly felt less objectionable with the looming unknown in front of her. What was up at Càrn Gorm Castle? A torture chamber? Her marriage bed? Elizabeth felt no inclination to follow his orders which he must have read in her countenance. He grabbed her by the waist and threw her his shoulder. Waded into the shallow water and deposited her on the cross beam she had sat on the way over.
"I have never met a more stubborn lass in my eight and twenty years on this earth," Laird Eilein muttered as he pushed them out on the lake, rippling the surface of the calm waters as he skipped on board. The boat rocked precariously, setting off the loch in rolling waves and Elizabeth's stomach aflutter.
Her tranquil surroundings were so deceiving. She felt Laird Eilein's eyes on her during the short trip across the lake. She deliberately averted her gaze and tilted her head to the side, pretending to be enthralled by something too fascinating to pay him any mind while trying to forget that another attempt of escape had been thwarted in the bud. It was enough to push a less stubborn person into the depths of despair.
They reached the mainland where Laird Eilein exited the boat and pulled it ashore before hauling out Elizabeth. A few yards away, a mount was tethered to a tree. Elizabeth could have sworn it was the same one he had used for her abduction at Pemberley but there might be many black stallions, looking much the same. She wondered at how he could have gotten it here if it was the same one?
Laird Eilein was his usual silent self and without further ado, lifted her onto his horse before mounting himself behind her and rode off in a sedate canter. Elizabeth paid attention to small details in the landscape like a crooked tree or a rock that might come in handy at a later date. She had not needed to because the ride was over in the course of a few minutes.
Before them, a handsome castle with a neat and tidy gravelled courtyard stood proudly against the Caledonian forest, the lake created a glittering backdrop of a harmonious home. The light grey castle's three wings formed a horseshoe shape that created a cosy courtyard shielded from the elements. The double oak doors were emblazed with arms in a shield. Row upon row of narrow windows acquired light for the rooms within.
In addition to the castle, she spotted a barn, the stables, a smithy, the carpenter's shop and several poultry houses.
A groom came running to Laird Eilein's aid and he threw him the rains before Elizabeth was hauled down from the horse. She valiantly tried to conceal the trembling of her legs but she doubted she could fool the laird who knew she was not comfortable on a horse's back.
"You forgot Mrs MacGregor," Elizabeth pointed out. She was stuck on the island like Elizabeth until the laird saw it fit to collect her.
"Mrs MacGregor is visiting her daughter; she was not supposed to come back here with me."
"I guess she is at your disposal to do as you see fit."
"What are you implying?"
"Merely that she cannot get back without the boat unless she is uncommonly warm-blooded and an accomplished swimmer."
"It is not necessary, there is another boat on the island."
"In the shed?"
"Yes."
Elizabeth felt exhilarated having learnt such useful information. She tried not to appear too eager and accepted Laird Eilein's arm when he offered it. She had no illusions an escape was possible at the moment; she would abide her time to a more convenient moment.
The laird of Eilein led her inside to a smallish foyer with a grand staircase, the Pomona green walls gave the house an uplifting feel. They did not ascend the stairs but turned right into a long, salmon-red gallery with arched ceilings where Laird Eilein's ancestors' countenances from centuries passed graced the walls.
With her attention fixed to the wall, she stumbled when Laird Eilein halted their progress before a large chest Elizabeth recognised. It was her chest, the chest she had taken with her on the trip north to Pemberley.
She stood awestricken and stared at the familiar engravings on the lid. EB with vines circling her initials. Her hand involuntarily flew to her mouth as she gasped. How could her chest have arrived at Càrn Gorm, hundreds of miles north? Did the Darcy family know where she was at? Could Mr Darcy be in on the scheme to abduct her or was it, Mrs Darcy? Her mind reeled with different scenarios, one more outlandish than the other...
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He opened the lid for her as she seemed frozen in time. She sank to her knees and picked up a book on top and cradled it to her chest. A plethora of emotions wafted across her upturned countenance. Her eyes turned heavenwards in gratitude. Had he known it meant so much to her, he might have given it to her sooner.
She bowed her head to conceal the tears her eyes could no longer contain. It moved him and made his next move so much harder to perform but there was no other way. He gave her a few minutes more to compose herself before he spoke.
"Thank you," she whispered. Adding more shame to his proposal.
"I have a proposition for you, Elizabeth."
She looked at him then, with eyes full of hope he would soon extinguish.
"Your possessions should all be there or rather everything you brought with you to Pemberley. Your wardrobe, jewellery, books and any personal paraphernalia is there. It is yours if you agree to a full marriage in truth. No more attempts to escape or it will all be revoked without warning."
Her eyes widened and she did not seem to breathe at all. She sat back on her haunches, about to faint if he did not get some colour back into her cheeks. It would soon be rectified, he gathered by what he was about to suggest. It was extortion of the worst kind, far worse than anything he had ever imagined himself uttering and it was of his own doing. Elizabeth was an innocent in this debacle but he had duties to perform, responsibilities to honour.
If he had the same affliction as his aunt, he might not have much time left until it was too late. He grieved for the unjust claims he would make of Elizabeth but he had no choice.
"When you provide me with an heir, I shall invite your family to Càrn Gorm."
He could tell when the shock had run its course and indignation and rage replaced it. Her pale countenance took on a decidedly crimson hue and her lush lips thinned into a grim line, her beautiful hazel eyes darkened further until they looked black with loathing.
"That is extortion, laird Eilein."
"Yes!" he saw no reason to prevaricate, it was true.
"May I remind you that I have only sisters amongst the five siblings?"
"It matters not to me, Elizabeth, the Castle could go to a daughter as much as a son."
The silence stretched uncomfortably between them. He wondered if she was ever going to reply and felt the need to fill the void.
"I need heirs, I promise I will not importune you from the moment it is confirmed that you have conceived and the child has been born. I will leave you alone once our second child is born, regardless of their sex."
Not a word escaped Elizabeth's lips.
"If it is any consolation, I would not have asked this of you if there had been any other way out of this quagmire of mine. I need heirs and we are married..."
His words trailed out, he felt utterly spent having performed the most difficult speech in his life. Little did he know, that there was worse to come...
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Laird Eilein must be the cruellest man she had ever encountered, his evilness had no bounds. Shoving her most priced possessions under her nose only to rip them away. Elizabeth was speechless, there were no words in her vocabulary that for such an occasion as this.
Her tears dried up, she straightened her back, rose from the floor and tossed the volume of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night on the top of her clothes. Slamming the chest shut she turned on her heel and marched out of the gallery.
"George!" Someone was coming down the staircase, calling for someone called George. To her surprise, Laird Eilein answered.
"Not now!"
So this was the lady she had heard about, the one who had raised the ogre behind her. Elizabeth's curiosity got the better of her and she glanced up at the descending female. Years of training allowed her to keep her countenance neutral.
Lady Annabel's hair was in more disarray than her own tresses. Her attire was in a fashion that had passed decades ago, were hanging on a much too slight a frame but it was the countenance that gave her away. It was small details really but Elizabeth noticed the signs of a mind that were addled. Her mouth gaped slightly, like in constant surprise, her eyes were wide in bewilderment and she moved in a rigid, jerky sort of way. Elizabeth almost forgot her errand, almost...
The laird of Eilein hastened up the stairs taking two steps at the time to aid his aunt while Elizabeth turned abruptly and proceeded out the door.
"George, who was that lady? I do not like strangers."
"Please, aunt. I will escort you back to your room. I will be with you shortly but..."
"No! You cannot tell me what to do."
"Yes, I can! We are going back to your room and I will read to you."
"No!"
"MacGregor!"
Elizabeth heard Laird Eilein calling for his grieve just as the door shut behind her. She did hear the oath flowing through the door who was soon ripped open. Elizabeth kept on walking, down the hill from Càrn Gorm until she reached the shore of lake Eilein. She stepped into the boat and let Laird Eilein push them into the lake, sparing him not a glance. As soon as the boat scraped along the rocks at the bottom, she jumped out of the boat, landing with her feet in the freezing water. She hardly notices through her anger infused pique and stomped off towards the entrance to her home.
"I will give you some time to consider!" he called after her but she showed no sign of hearing him.
She does not acknowledge Mrs MacGregor nor her daughter as she walks past them to her chamber. She enters her room and locks the door behind her.
Exhausted she collapses on her bed, believing tears and despair will overcome her but neither happens. Inside her, a void, barren emptiness takes over her heart and soul. She will not succumb, he shall not win, even if it took her a lifetime.