"But how can it be ye?" she asked, mystified. "I had thought tha' ye were dead!"
"No' dead," the man said. "Banished, aye, but no' dead. Settle down here by the fire; I have a chill in me tha' willnae allow me rest. Let me get a good look at ye. We have much tae speak on."
The man focused his hazy eyes on Isla's face, and then he reached out to take her hands. Iain stood back, watching, as the man smiled once more.
He wondered then what the man had to say. What could be so important that Aiden had called Isla across the dangerous lands alone to meet him here?
Iain settled next to the fire as the old man requested, waiting patiently to hear what the man would tell them. He dared to hope it would be happy news, though some niggling suspicion told him it would not be.
Chapter Nineteen
Isla could not believe her eyes. Aiden, her childhood tutor, sat shivering in front of her, smiling as though she had not believed him dead since her eighth year.
"Father told me tha' ye had passed on," she breathed out. "Years an' years ago. I remember cryin' about it tae my sisters... But what happened tae ye? How did ye get here?"
"Questions come later, lass," Aiden told her. "Jus' listen now. The story I have tae tell ye should answer everythin' tha' ye can think tae ask me. Helen, hand me another sip o' that flask, will ye? I have much speakin' tae do, and me old throat isnae used to such tasks these days."
Her former tutor reached out for the flask and took a hefty swallow, smacking his lips.
"Lass, what I'm about tae tell ye now will shock ye, but I'll ask ye not tae speak until I'm finished with everythin'," he said. "I've lived at the Robertson keep for nearly all o' me life up until I was forcefully banished and threatened with death. When ye were born, Isla, I knew tha' ye would grow up tae be a fine an' intelligent lass. Think on what I'm about tae tell ye hard."
Aiden took another sip of the flask; she was beginning to think that it was whisky and not water. The smell wafted up and hit her nose hard.
"I know that ye were led tae believe that Duncan Robertson is yer father," Aiden said. "But tha' cannae be farther from the truth... Yer father's name was Bryant Robertson, Duncan's elder brother. Laird Bryant Robertson was a just an' fair Laird, beloved by all o' his clan an' his wife, Sophia, was a kind woman with the loveliest blue eyes. Ye look like the picture o' her, truly... But I stray from the topic. I had been called tae the castle, instructed tae stay there until the birth of the Laird's child; you, Isla. The night tha' ye were born was a rough one an' a long one as well. It had been a complicated birth an' we thought for a moment tha' we would lose ye, but ye pulled through. The Laird asked me tae stay longer, and I happily obliged. I had gotten up that night, late it was. I couldnae sleep and thought per'aps a walk round the halls would tire me."
Isla felt a flurry of questions burning in her mind. She tried her best to hold them back, to dam the flood of inquiries that were willing their way out. She could no longer prevent them from rushing out and opened her mouth to speak.
“What did—”
But Ian placed a comforting hand on hers, and she quieted. Her hands that had been previously trembling stilled, and she allowed the old man to go on.
"I was just passin' the hall tae the Laird's room when I thought tha' I heard somethin' strange," Aiden continued. "A garglin' sort o' sound an' what sounded like a high scream. I noticed tha' none of the guards were in the halls, but at tha' time thought nothin' about it. I thought per'aps that the Laird and his wife might need help wi' his new child and so I approached the door. Tae my surprise, it was already open. It looked like it had been flung open, in fact... What I saw in tha' room will stay with me forever. Sophia in the corner, holdin' her newborn baby girl, and Duncan hunched over the still form o' his brother, who lay dead. Duncan Robertson killed his own brother for the Lairdship."
Isla opened her mouth to exclaim her shock, but the old man held up a trembling, wrinkled hand.
"No questions yet," he said. "Jus' listen. I havenae the breath tae be interrupted every few seconds, lass. I'm old an' weak, an' the disease has already ravaged me until even speakin' becomes difficult. The pain in me stomach travels all the way up ‘til it suck the breath right out o' me. No' only tha', but me memory fades in an' out as it likes. Have mercy on an ol' man, and please sit silent for but a moment. Can ye do tha' for me?"
She sighed, nodding, though she desperately wanted to speak. Aiden already looked exhausted, his breath too short and yet heavy all at once. He smiled, the expression weak but relieved, and after he caught his breath, he continued.
"Now Duncan's wife, Mary, had also had another baby recently, though it was no' as well-known as Sophia's pregnancy," the old man said. "Duncan was disliked by much o' the clan, and no' many paid him much heed. He'd already had one healthy baby girl and then another nearly a week before ye were born, Isla. Duncan stood, releasing his brother's throat, and snatched ye from yer mother, who was out o' her mind wi' grief. He told me tha' if I ever told anyone wha' I saw tha' I would be the next one he buried in the dirt. I was tae say tha' ye had died at birth and tae affirm tha' ye were Duncan's new twin girl."
Aiden shook his head sorrowfully. He looked near tears, and so Isla reached out a hand to him, patting his leg reassuringly. Hearing the man's voice break in pain had twisted Isla's own heart; she could not bear to see him so upset.
"The Laird's death was covered up easily," he said. "I was the clan's trusted an' respected healer; I was believed immediately when I declared his death natural. Sophia did not speak a word to anyone, and the entire clan accounted her grief to the loss o' both her husband an' her child on the same night. She couldnae stomach the grief and the humiliation of what had occurred; the poor woman was found dead by her own hand the following mornin'. Duncan was next in line for the Lairdship an' he took over with a smile on his face. He had everythin' he had ever wanted, though only a few months later, his wife was taken by sickness. I stayed there tutoring ye, Isla, for nearly nine years, as ye know."
“But how can this be?”Isla asked, cutting in. “How could no one have told me until now? Aiden, I cannae believe this…” She had not been able to stand staying silent any longer. The shock of what she was hearing had boiled up and out of her, escaping in a stream.
"I see ye still cannae stand tae be silent when asked," the old man chuckled. "But ye must believe it, lass. Every word I speak is the truth. No one could speak a word about what had happened; yer uncle expressly forbid it. On yer eighth year, I went tae Laird Duncan and demanded ye be told the truth. I couldnae stand knowin' tha' ye would never know of yer mother and father, tha' their memory would be lost tae the lies. I was also feelin' the guilt of my own actions, my own part in Duncan's scheme. The Laird raged at me, as I suspected he might, but he told me tae leave before he lost control o' himself. I was banished an' if I ever showed my face at the castle gates again, I would be slaughtered."
Her former tutor shook his head at the brutality of the thought, and Isla found that she had been holding her breath for some time. She let it out in a sigh, looking up at Iain, who looked completely stricken for her.
"So here I came an' here I've stayed until I got the mind tae go back fer one more trip," Aiden said. "I wrote what I could in the letter, already beginnin' tae feel the workin's o' the sickness I didnae know I yet had, an' I made me way back tae Robertson Castle. I was lucky enough tae catch the clan healer foragin' in the woods and convinced her tae slip this tae ye. I began tae fall ill not too long after; Helen here has been tendin' tae me ever since. Bein' a healer myself, I know tha' I have no' much longer left in life. I'm glad tha' I was able tae see ye all grown up and tha' I was able tae tell ye what I know. Isla, my dear, I cannae tell ye how sorry I am."
Isla could not find words, though she desperately wanted to speak. She turned to Iain, who had held his tongue throughout the entire exchange. He shook his head wonderingly at her.
"Both of our fathers were killed by the same man," he breathed. "I cannae believe it, the murderous scum."
His eyes were wide on Isla's face, and then she saw the anger melt into his expression.
