Lost in the Mists of Time - Chapter 5

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“Yes, it is, Andrew” I stood there watching the sun setting behind the western hills lighting up the sky and water with the color of molten gold, I felt a hand placed on my shoulder, and felt myself turned around. “Susan, if I don’t do this now, I will never get the courage to do so.” With those words, Andrew pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and I allowed myself to surrender to the embrace and the kiss and returned both with equal passion. ……And now back to the story

I was shocked at what I was doing, I shouldn’t be feeling what I was, and the desire for this man was overwhelming. I struggled with my emotions trying to gain some control. Finally I broke off the kiss, pulling myself away from Andrew’s embrace feeling ashamed of what had happened.

“I am sorry Andrew. This is so sudden. Please forgive me I did not know you had such feelings for me.” I quickly said.

“Nay Lassie, it was me I took advantage of you and I shouldn’t have.” He replied. I could tell by looking at him it wasn’t exactly the truth, he appeared hurt and confused about the situation. “We should be going to Ardsheal while it getting dark so we can get through the town without being noticed.” He quickly added.

We made our way down to Kentallen and wove our way through the village avoiding the main road as much as possible; it was a quaint village, obviously the village made its living from the sea, as the smell of fish lingered in the air. I allowed myself to be lost in thought as I followed Andrew through the village, the turmoil of my emotions was still with me, and left me wondering where this journey was headed and the sooner I found answers and returned to my own time the better. The response to Andrew’s kiss had me worried as I wasn’t truly comfortable with the idea of what it could lead to.

Before I could gain any ground against my quandary, I found myself looking at a massive tower house looming over us. It appeared old, constructed of blocks of a black rock, some five or six stories or more in height, a smattering of slits or windows breaking up the stone façade. With a gable styled roof surrounded by a wall with a few chimneys capping it. While looking up I caught a glimpse of a waning crescent moon. I roughly calculated that I had perhaps three or 4 weeks before the next full moon and the answers for so many questions.

Andrew dismounted handed me the reins of his horse, and made his way up a small flight of stairs to a large wooden door surrounded by a rough stone arch, and hammered at the door. The door was opened and dim light spilled out from it. I could see Andrew talking to a slight figure, gesturing to me and the horses, whoever he had been talking disappeared from the doorway He motioned me to dismount and suddenly two young boys rushed out of the tower leading the horses away.

Upon entering we were in a narrow corridor which led to a fairly large dimly lit room that appeared to have a few other openings leading elsewhere, and a large well in the middle of the room. We were handed a lantern for light and Andrew proceeded to lead me up a narrow stone stairway to the next floor of the tower which was another large room dominated by a large fireplace on one wall in which a large fire was burning and provided the most light and sconces with candles where scattered throughout the room providing more, still the room had areas of shadow and was furnished with mainly beds which a few where occupied and few other odd pieces of furniture.

We continued up the narrow staircase to the next floor which again was dominated by a large fireplace although this one had a twin on the opposite wall with both fireplaces lit, the room was fairly bright and again this light was aided by sconces along the walls a large table sat in the middle of the room with a few chairs around it I could see there were three men sitting around the table a decanter and goblets scattered around the table.

Andrew spoke quickly. “Cousin it is I Andrew.” One of the men answered. “Andrew? Why in the Lord’s name would you come here?” then got up from the table and approached us.
He was a large man built like Andrew. Tall broad shouldered, dark hair appeared to be in his early 30’s and like Andrew handsome. I really needed to figure out why I would think that, obviously, this mind and body I now inhabited definitely had ideas of its own despite what I wanted.

“I have many reasons cousin.” Andrew replied. “One I bring news from France, and amongst other reasons I and my companion must lay low for a while if possible.”

Andrew’s cousin drew closer. “News from France is it?” He asked. “And judging by your companion, have you gotten her and yourself in to bit a trouble?” I bristled at what he obviously was suggesting, and was finding it very hard not to say a word; I hoped Andrew would come to our defense on that insinuation, without me saying a thing.

“No cousin, it isn’t anything like that, and you should be ashamed of thinking that about the Lady Gordon!” Andrew exclaimed. “In fact she saved my life, and in doing so has placed her own in jeopardy. I will concede the fact it is because of me she ended up in this situation, but it is far from the sordid idea you have! Now if you wish to continue this, I hope we can do so as family and I wish for you apologize to Lady Gordon for your poor assumption of our situation.”

Andrew’s cousin turned, looked at me and said. “Lady Gordon, please accept my most humble of apologies I have obviously have made a poor judgement of the situation."

From what I could tell the man seemed to be truly apologetic, and maybe there is something about Andrew I needed to learn, for him to come to such a conclusion. To keep things peaceful, I replied. “I accept your apology Sir Stewart. This strange set of circumstances has created a simple misunderstanding.” I hoped that would suffice.

He simply nodded in my direction. Then led us both into the hall, and then pulled an additional chair that was arranged against the wall to the table and motioned for us to sit. “Introductions are in order, as you have probably surmised I am Andrew’s cousin Charles Stewart head of the Stewarts of Ardsheal and tacksman to Dugald Stewart Chief of Clan Appin, the other gentlemen here are my subalterns and my brothers Iain (John).” Another tall dark haired, clean shaven man stood from the table and nodded in my direction, “and Ailean (Alan).” The third man stood, he too was tall and dark but I could see his face was scarred by pox marks giving him an almost spotted appearance, not that that hindered the apparent handsomeness that seemed to run in the Appin men if anything it made him unique amongst his brothers.

I attempted what I hoped was an acceptable curtsey, and managed so without falling on my face and said “Good Sirs, I am Susan Gordon of Aberdeen. It is a pleasure to meet you gentlemen.” Then sat in the nearest chair figuring it Andrew’s place to explain why we were here. Andrew’s cousins sat down in their chairs while Andrew remained standing.

Charles immediately asked. “Andrew, you said there was news from France, but why you? The last we heard you had taken a commission in one of Louis’ Scottish regiments, and your father Seamus (James) what of him?”

Andrew seemed hesitant to respond, but said. “Father contracted an illness while we were on campaign for Louis at Dettingen in ’43. I got leave to escort him back to Paris and would rejoin the regiment there as we were due for rotation to guard Versailles. Alas, Father died on the way home, and as you know Mother died the year previously. As there was not much more for me to do, I arranged his burial next to Mother, sold off our rooms and their property I did not wish to keep and waited for my regiment to return to Versailles.” He answered then continued. “While waiting there I became acquainted with William Murray the Marquis of Tullabardine. When he found out I was of the Stewarts of Appin, he informed me that our cousin King James had named our cousin Charles the Prince Regent, for Louis had formed an army at Dunkirk for him to invade England in January of this year.”

Andrew reached for a goblet and decanter that was on the table and poured a drink of something, took a sip and continued. “So upon hearing this I resigned my commission and offered myself into service of the Prince, and made my way to Dunkirk. It was for naught though; a severe storm developed and destroyed the ships that were to take us across so we returned to Paris.”

“Pardon me Sir Charles would it be an imposition for a spot of tea?” I asked not wanting to get involved with uisge beatha that was available and a repeat of the last time I drank some.

“My apologies Lady Gordon, it is seldom that we have a lady’s company at this hour.” He got up and made his way to the staircase we came up and shouted down the stairwell “Jean some tea!” and returned to his seat.

“So Andrew, Louis has decided to help the King then?” He asked

“Not really cousin not as I see it at least.” Andrew replied. “I think Louis is looking for a diversion aimed at focusing England elsewhere. Truthfully one French victory in this war they have going and Louis will forget all about the Stuarts. This Louis does not bear much love towards them, unlike his father.”

At this a young woman appeared at the top of the stairs, who I assumed was Jean, with a tray a small pot and a tea cup. She placed the tray on the table and then retreated back down the stairwell. I reached over and poured a small amount of tea into the cup taking a small sip of the warm drink.

“I see.” Said Charles “So how is it that you are here now Andrew?” He asked.

Andrew took another swallow of his whisky and continued his story. “Upon returning to Paris I settled in with most of the Stuart supporters at Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye which sits outside Paris. Having resigned my commission I had little choice other than to find myself in company with William Murray and others. As the King was in residence in Rome, we had little to do. The Prince came and went followed about by his tutor Sheridan and other sycophants, often returning to Rome to his father.”

Taking another swallow he continued. “Our little band of supporters with not much else to do, decided we should plan to try and make any attempt if another should arise successful. We began to reach out to those in Louis’ service but many declined citing the ’15 and the ‘19 as failures saying this one would be no different. While I could agree with their sentiments, I still saw a glimmer of possible success. So we came to the conclusion someone would have to return to Scotland and eventually England to find support for the cause. I volunteered as I yearned to come home.”

I was so enraptured by Andrew’s story, my tea had grown cold I didn’t bother refilling my cup as I was sure what was in the pot was also cold by now. I stifled a yawn, and was starting to feel tired and the heat from the fireplaces was making me quite sleepy. I was bound and determined that I would last this out as long as it took. Stifled another yawn and tried to look attentive.

Andrew continued his story. “I was given a purse of 2oo Louis d’or by Lord Murray for expenses, it seemed an excessive amount and I protested his generosity, he justified it by saying I probably would need it all should trouble arise. So I made my way to Nantes, and found a ship bound for Dundee with a cargo of salt, and booked passage saying I was a Scottish student returning to St. Andrew’s to continue my studies, having found the continent rather tedious.”

Looking into his goblet as if pondering the merit of pouring more into it he continued. “The voyage went unhindered for the most part we did see an English frigate on the horizon once, but it seemed to ignore us. The winds were favorable and the ship anchored off Dundee awaiting the tide to turn within four days. That night a small boat approached us calling up to the ship a line was tossed over the side and soon an older man appeared climbing over the bulwark and made his way to the captain. It seemed I had booked passage on vessel that was involved in smuggling as well as legitimate cargo.”

“What was exchanged I have no idea, it was obviously small and easily concealed, as the man made his way back to his boat he spotted me and bluntly asked if I wanted to avoid entanglements in Dundee, stating soldiers seemed to be taking an interest into those arriving by ship and if so come with him. I took up his offer and gathered my few meager things and climbed over the side and down into his boat his man rowed us ashore a few miles south of Dundee.”

“He welcomed me into his house, which was just above the shore, shared a dram, and upon finding out he was a supporter, gave him the news and asked him to spread the word carefully. He in turn warned me of the increased activity of soldiers on the main roads and ports and to be on guard as it appeared they were looking for someone. He then offered me a horse that he would sell to speed me on my way.”

The empty goblet obviously didn’t appeal to him and he poured more of the whisky into the goblet, and took a swallow. He seemed to mull over his thoughts and continued. “I then made my way up the coast, avoiding most towns avoiding the roads by crossing fields and traveling through woods stopping by known supporters suggested by Murray and the others of our little band. Giving them, letters of introduction and availing myself of their hospitality. I eventually found myself with the Erskines of Pittodrie. While there became acquainted with Lady Gordon.”

By this time I had nodded off a couple of times, awaking with a start each time hopefully no one noticed, if they did they were at least polite about it. Andrew continued on about our journey to Ardsheal including our run it with soldiers and made a big production about me saving him with a well-placed pistol shot, and his concern that it might put my head in a noose. I was just to sleepy to care about following the conversation.

Charles announced “Well cousin an interesting story indeed. However it is getting late and we will decide what to do on the morrow. Andrew you can share Iain’s room as it has an extra bed. Lady Gordon can have the guest room.”

He went over to the stairwell called for the young woman Jean. When she appeared he spoke at some length to her and then motioned to me saying. “Follow Jean she will take you to your room. Sleep well Lady Gordon.” Then seemed to dismiss me from anything further.
.
Our little gathering dispersed from the hall. Jean led me across the hall to another stairwell on the right that went up while the men went to the stairwell we came up and followed it upwards. Jean led me up the narrow stairwell into a narrow hallway, which lead to wooden door which opened to a medium sized room consisting of small bed and chest, with a small table with a candle on it and a chair, a lit fireplace finished off the room, which she stoked then taking a small piece of kindling from near the fireplace lit the candle then left closing the door behind her. I just removed my cloak fell into the bed which smelled like fresh straw and into a deep sleep.

Charles Stewart of Ardsheal was a real person and was a true Jacobite, Ailean (Alan) Stewart was too and would be immortalized in literature by Robert Louis Stevenson and Sir Walter Scott as Alan Breck Stewart. Breck is actually anglicized from the Gaelic word Breac which means “spotted” as it seems his face bore scars from a bout of smallpox. So I am unsure if he was as handsome as Michael Caine, David McCallum, or Armand Assante who all played him in film or on TV. Ailean and Charles were both in fosterage (traditional Scottish highland way to strengthen clan ties) to the same man James of the Glen whether they were actually blood kin I don’t know. I made them so just so I could put him in my story.

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Comments

Wow!

Ask and you shall receive. Thank you Fiona. Another enjoyable episode, thank you.
I hope your muse doesn’t desert you now we are starting to relax lockdown?
Stay safe
Tom

You are most welcome

Fiona K's picture

Thank you Tom for asking, and I am glad that it didn't disappoint you.
Stay safe and Take Care

Fiona

"The things that make me different are the things that make me." - A.A. Milne
"Nothing happens until the pain of remaing the same, outweighs the pain of change." - Arthur Burt

LOVE

Historical fiction.. I am still trying to make sense of all that happened.
"To the victor, the power to re write history" ?"?:"?

alissa