'Yes, Jeannie: I am your mother and know what desires you will have and should have.It is the Tweedie Passion, Jeannie, and it is within you, waiting to burst out.You will know it when it comes and, God help you, you will not be able to control it.Rather, the Tweedie Passion will control you.It is in your blood, as it is in the blood of every woman and man of your name.Your father now…' Her voice faded away and she avoided my eyes, which was very unusual for Mother.
'What about my father?'I asked.'You only had the one child and that was me.If Father was as lusty as you say surely there would be more?'I knew I was venturing on very dangerous territory.
'There are things it is best you do not know,' Mother said.'I do assure you, Jeannie, that if you have only a fraction of your father's hot blood you will never lack for suitors.'
I smiled although I quite resented the implications.Let it be recorded that at twenty years old I was still intact where it mattered.I had never as much as kissed a man, let alone allowed one to touch me anywhere important.I told my mother so, tartly and with force.
Surprisingly, she did not react by slapping me.Rather she listened with a look on her face that may have been amusement, or perhaps concern; I was not sure which.'Not even Robert?'
'No!'I turned my back to show my anger, thereby facing into the rising wind and cold rain.I was too stubborn to move, however, and endured my self-imposed discomfort.'Robert would never touch me without my permission!'
'I see.'I was sure that I detected some disapproval in Mother's tone although it might have been disappointment.'And have you never tried to touch him… even without permission.'
'Mother!'I spoke without turning around.'You know I would never do such a thing!'
Her laugh was genuine, which surprised me.'Not yet, perhaps, Jeannie, but the time will come when you will feel like doing nothing else.'
I snorted.I knew better than that.I had been around the boys and men of the Lethan Valley and knew what they were like.I could not imagine myself ever wanting to touch any of them in certain places until such time as I was legally married and had to perform my duty.Oh, they were decent enough lads, hard-working, hard-riding, some quiet, others noisy.They treated me like my mother's daughter, and some made sheep's eyes at me.But there were none that captivated me in that particular way.Indeed, there were none that captivated me at all.Although Robert and I were fast friends and engaged, I never had any physical leanings toward him.I was sure that when the time came, I would be adequate in that way, for I had all the necessary equipment and I am sure I had the shape a man liked.A wife had to accept her husband's desires, although Robert had never pushed himself toward me either.Perhaps after we were married, we would change; perhaps marriage would awaken some so-far-hidden craving.
I realised that I had been telling such things to Mother and she had been listening, nodding at all the right places.'You will know it when it comes,' she said.'You have not met the right man yet,' she said.
'I have met Robert,' I insisted.I was facing her.When had I turned around?I could not remember having turned around; what sort of power did that woman have to make me open my heart to her and face her.
'I know you have,' Mother sounded infinitely sad.'Perhaps if he was the older brother, he may be a bolder man.'She raised her head to the sky and lifted a finger to quieten me.'Listen.'
I heard it at the same time; the drumbeat of horses' hooves, echoing off the surrounding hills as they came hard-riding up the valley.
'That is not your father,' Mother said softly.'He will be coming over the hill pass with the cattle.Those are riding men.'
Chapter Two
LETHAN VALLEY
SEPTEMBER 1585
For a moment I could not react.I was twenty years old and although we had lived with the constant possibility of danger, I had never experienced it first-hand.I had been too young to remember the excitement of the days when Queen Mary had been in power and armies had marched and countermarched across the country, and as I have said, the Lethan is a bit too far north to be raided by the predatory riding families and any Veitch raid had merely reived a few cattle or burned the odd cot-house.
Yet here they were now, reivers were loose in our valley and all its men were deep in the hills.All that was left were the women, children, and old men.
'Get the spears.'Mother was surprisingly calm.Raising her voice, she shouted out: 'Riders coming up the valley!Spears and bows!Take your places!'
We all knew what to do.Father and Mother had drilled us in case of just such an emergency, so we grabbed what weapons the men had left us and ran to our stations.I know I should have felt frightened.Instead, I found it all rather exciting really.Life could be so dull stuck up there at the head of the valley counting cattle and tending crops.It was good to have something different happen.
'Shall I light the beacon?'I had always wanted to put flame to the great beacon fire that sat in its iron cage on the roof of the tower.The purpose was to send out a message to our neighbours that there were raiders, so they could prepare and send men to help.
'Wait,' Mother said.'Wait until we are certain.The reivers, if they are reivers, must have passed Whitecleuch to reach us, yet the Fergusons have not fired a warning.'
I bit off my disappointment, peered down the valley and waited as the hoof beats came closer.
I heard the hail.'Tweedie!Are you in?'The voice came from outside the walls, loud, powerful, and a stranger.'Adam Tweedie of the Lethan!'
'I am Elizabeth Tweedie of the Lethan!'my mother replied, equally as loud.'Name yourself and state what you want in our lands!'
'I am the Yorling!'the claim was simple and direct.'I want your gear and insight.'
'Oh, sweet Mary Mother.'Although Scotland had been officially Protestant for decades, mother still clung to the Roman Catholicism with which she had been raised.I saw her cross herself.'It is a ghost, risen from the dead.'
I stared into the dark, hoping to see this ghost yet glad of the high barmekin walls around us.'Who is the Yorling?'I asked stupidly.
