She went to bed early that night, but sleep did not come quickly, despite two cups of valerian tea, and Robina was more exhausted when she got up than she had been before she went to sleep. She was thinking how fast her life had changed after receiving that letter from Lockie. She was not resentful, she only hoped Alex was a good man, and she was determined to show him that she demanded his respect.
She never loved Lockie but she hoped he was happier now.
Laird Lockie Campbell did not aim to get into a cozy partnership with a pleasant, biddable young lady. Lorna, his new wife, was a beautiful woman; she had fair hair and dark, gray eyes, but he did not care that much. He could have a mistress of course, whenever he wanted. The fact that she was very thin did not worry him either, since she was extremely wealthy. And that is what mattered to him.
Her father was the owner of two estates both larger than his, and since Lorna was his older daughter and he had no sons, she stood to inherit both of them. That meant that whoever marries her would inherit two large estates when her father died. He would have three estates counting his, and he would be among the most powerful men in Scotland. Consequently, leaving Robina was an easy choice.
Lockie and Lorna had a frequent, if uninspiring, love life, and although her first intimate experience had been painful (as it was for every woman), Lockie was sure she was satisfied. He was treating her well most of the time and they were having fun together. He did not love her, as he did not believe in love, but he liked her.
Lockie was not the kindest husband, but he was not very aggressive either. He did object to her having too many friends around her all the time though.
“They laugh at me whenever they see me, and it makes me uncomfortable. I love you and I want you to be mine, not to have to share you with a group of young ladies,” Lockie told Lorna playfully.
“I see.” She smiled. “So if I did away with all my friends then you would be happy?”
“Not all of them,” he replied, laughing. “I would like you to be happy too.”
“Very well, Lockie,” she went on. “So which of my friends should I banish? The pretty ones or the ones who cause all the trouble?”
“They are all pretty and they all cause trouble!” he cried, laughing.
Lorna leaned across the table and gazed at him with narrowed eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “You will have a very sad wife, Lockie. I have a better idea, Husband. You choose.”
“They are your friends,” he laughed. “You must do it!”
“No.” She reached up a hand to touch his cheek. “I will ask them to behave themselves and stay out of your way. I do agree with you that they behave like children sometimes. But this is your property. Why do you not bring a few of yours around too? Do not tell me you have none, because I know you have.”
“I do.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. “And I will, because I know my wife will make them welcome.”
“I was worried that you might want to banish all my ladies completely!” Lorna teased him.
Lockie threw back his head and laughed heartily at that. “My Lorna would not be the same without her whole gaggle of wild ladies around her!”
He was winning her over with his humorous character and was being more polite than he would naturally be while waiting for her to get with child. He was looking very much forward to it. That would seal their union and would make him the rightful heir once and for all. And of course, if the child was a boy, it would be the beginning of his legacy as he had imagined it.
His new wife had provided him with great wealth, but she would have to do her duty and provide him with a son too. If not, he would find another way to get what he wanted.
3
First Meeting
Alex had not slept well either. He too had tried valerian tea, but having found it ineffective, had resorted to whisky. He was beyond exhausted, but worried about meeting his prospective bride. Eventually he fell into a troubled sleep, but was haunted by a recurring nightmare, one which had troubled him since he got back from the battlefield.
He was running towards the English forces, and all his fear had gone. It had been overwhelmed by hatred and the lust for blood that comes over men in the heat of the battle. He was seeing the very worst that men could do to each other: beheading, disemboweling, and stabbing. Their horses, maddened with fright, were rearing and screaming, treading and stamping on wounded and dead men on the ground, which was covered in a red slick of blood. The smell of it was everywhere, metallic and nauseating, and some of it was his own, flowing from a deep sword-cut in his thigh.
Nevertheless, he went on and raised his spear to thrust it through the chest of an English soldier who stood looking at him for a moment, stunned, before toppling over, his eyes open and fixed on Alex.
Alex would never forget that look, or that face. It was the first man he had ever killed.
The chain of events became unclear, because he was suddenly at home.
He walked into the bedroom and saw Ellen in bed with another man, and they were making love. He could not see her lover’s face, but in the way of dreams, he both knew and did not know his name. Alex pulled the man off his wife and dragged him from the bed, then pummeled into him with all the force of his fists. With all his considerable weight behind them, the blows were devastating, and eventually the man fell, groaning, onto the floor and lay there, motionless and unconscious.
A few moments later his chest stopped moving and they realized he was dead, then Ellen went to kneel down beside him. “You have killed him,” she whispered in horror, then looked up at him. “I hate you!” she hissed. “And I curse you to a lifetime of misery.” Her face was a mask of disgust and fury as she stood up, her dark brown eyes looking like holes in her face as she stared at him with so much malice in her eyes that he backed away from her. She followed him, however, until his back made contact with the bedroom door, then she came and pressed her body against his, still holding his gaze.
“I am dead,” she told him, “but for as long as you live I will haunt your dreams, because you took the love of my life away from me.”
Alex stared down at the man on the floor, whose flesh had melted away until there was only a skeleton left. He looked up at Ellen, but she had gone.
