As he strolled through the house, he came to her room and found a scarf that she occasionally wore. He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. It was heavy with her scent. It brought forth a myriad of feelings, and he wasn’t ready to let her go entirely. He stuffed it in his pocket. While he wouldn’t be able to bring her with him, he could at least bring a part of her.
He smiled as he thought about her clumsy attempts to clean the house, but how quick she had been with the distillery. He had no doubt that she would find happiness in her life. Why her father wanted to waste her talents by marrying some useless man he would never understand. Hamish Glennrock may have been the Laird’s advisor, but it seemed wrong for him to want to dim the flame of his daughter, to diminish her essence. Wherever she ended up, Ian hoped that she would be allowed to flourish, and that the people around her would appreciate her.
The same was true for Rory as well. He was a good lad, albeit too trusting for this kind of world. He should have turned away from Ian as soon as Ian revealed the true nature of his illegal enterprise, but Rory had stayed, taking pity on him. Rory had it in him to be not only a great blacksmith, but a great man as well.
Before he left, Ian fetched some parchment and a quill. He wrote two letters, one for Rory, and one for Lucy. Words could not fully describe the depth of his feelings and he knew that what was written on the page would not do justice to all he wanted to share with them, but he hoped that it would be enough for them. He sealed the letters in envelopes and left them on the counter, alongside two pouches, ready for Rory and Lucy to find when they returned. He knew that Lucy would be angry, and Rory would be disappointed. He hoped they would understand why he needed to do this. They were still young, still with their whole lives ahead of them, and he wanted to make sure their lives were filled with promise and opportunity. After this, Lucy could go wherever she wanted, free of suspicion, and Rory could prove himself the finest blacksmith in the Highlands.
As for Ian, well, he would face the consequences of his actions and bear the weight of responsibility. He would take yet more pain upon his shoulders because he knew he had the strength to endure it. Lucy was right when she said that everyone ultimately had a choice, and this was the choice he was making.
He fetched some food from the kitchen to fill his stomach on his journey and then, just as he was about to leave, he heard a mew from behind him. Ginger jumped up onto the table and looked at him with wide eyes. Ginger mewed again, a plaintive sound. The tail was upright, and Ginger prowled around the table insistently. Ian frowned at the cat, and then muttered under his breath.
“Alright, I will feed ye before I gae,” he said, and filled a bowl with some meat. Ginger jumped down and feasted on the meal, devouring it almost instantly. Ginger then looked up at Ian again and slunk between his legs. Ian allowed himself a chuckle. “Aye, I suppose I will even miss ye as well,” he sank down and petted Ginger between the ears. A purring sound filled the kitchen. Ian sighed. “I suppose if I cannse say goodbye tae them properly, I will sae goodbye tae ye. Take care of this place. It hae been good tae me over the years. I hope it will be good for ye as well,” Ian said.
Then, he rose and he strode outside. Ginger followed him all the way to the doorstep and then stayed there, staring at Ian. Ginger mewed loudly, as if to plead with him to stay. Ian stared at the cat for a long while, before hanging his head, resolved to his choice. He lumbered to the cart and sat upon the driving ledge, taking the reins of his horse. He gave a lingering look at the forge and then turned his head, taking a deep breath. He needed to let it all behind him, for there was nothing left for him here. He geed the horse and it went trotting away. Ian held the reins tightly as a tear trickled down his cheek. He silently prayed for forgiveness, not only from Lucy and Rory, but from his father as well.
He knew he was doing the right thing because it hurt in his heart and his bones. The wagon trundled along the road and the horizon swept before him. His features were haggard, and he swallowed his pain and his pride.
19
Lucy and Rory staggered away from the fair, both with dazed looks on their faces.
“I think my head is spinning,” Rory said.
“It’s more than yer head. Ye are still dancing,” Lucy giggled as her gaze darted to his feet, which were bouncing along the ground. “Are ye missing yer lass already?”
“Well, ah, I would nae say she was my lass exactly…” Rory stammered.
“But I think ye would like her tae be,” Lucy teased.
Rory blushed and looked over his shoulder. “I suppose if I see her again…”
“Oh, I am sure ye will. I dinnae think ye can avoid what is meant for ye,” Lucy smirked, thinking about how she and Ian had encountered each other.
Rory was smiling giddily, having just received a promise that he couldn’t wait to fulfill. Lucy, meanwhile, was eager to see Ian again. She was bemused that he had missed out on the rest of the fair. He had promised to come and find her again, yet he must have gotten lost in his work, as was his habit. She hoped that she might be able to dance with him long into the night, to a rhythm that only the two of them could hear. Lucy teased Rory while they walked along, and their laughter filled the air. He blushed, but she could see the stirrings of a man within him and in an odd way, she felt proud. The day had passed without incident and Lucy began to see what her life could be like, how free it could be without needing to glance over her shoulder and be afraid that she would be discovered. It gave her hope that she might even be able to stay with Ian. If she continued to only go outside when it was busy, losing herself in the crowds… it would be a life of restriction and discipline, but she thought it was worth it if she could be with Ian.
They entered the shop and she called out to him. Worry immediately entered her heart when there was no response. Her gaze fell to the basement hatch. It was open. She rushed down and was stunned to see that the distillery was gone. The basement was empty, with only the faint scent of whiskey lingering in the air. Other than that, there was no sign that a distillery had existed at all. Lucy’s mouth hung open, and her mind was filled with terrible thoughts. Had those vile men returned and accosted Ian while he was alone, taking him and the distillery? If so, what had they done to him? How were they going to raise the alarm with the guards? She could not go to them, and Rory could hardly say that an illegal distillery had been stolen.
Lucy raced back upstairs and called out to Rory in a trembling voice.
“I think Ian hae been taken,” she whimpered.
Rory was standing beside the counter with Ginger in his arms. He turned to face Lucy and wore a somber look on his face. “I don’t think he hae been taken,” he said, and then looked meaningfully at two letters that had been left on the counter, along with two pouches. Lucy moved towards him. One of them was addressed to Rory, and one to her. Rory took one of the pouches and opened it, gasping when he saw a large amount of coins shining inside it. He then opened the other and finely made jewels peeked out. Lucy had known the distillery had been profitable, but she hadn’t realized it was this successful.
Then, she took the letter addressed to her, stared at the snaking lines of her name. Dread clutched her heart at the contents, for she knew it couldn’t be anything good. She dared not unfold the parchment because she did not want to bring the words into reality. Once again, she found herself trying to push back against the outside world, wishing to live in her perfect bubble of a fantasy, even though the words had already been written, even though Ian had already done whatever he had chosen to do.
While she stood there, frozen by fear, Rory unfolded his letter and read it, muttering softly under his breath as his eyes danced around the words. His brow furrowed, and there was a dazed look in his eyes.
“He… he said he’s left. He’s gone tae start a new life somewhere else, somewhere he can cause nae trouble. He left the forge tae me, hoping that I will continue his Da’s legacy. I… I cannae believe it.”
“Nae,” Lucy sobbed. “Nae, he could nae leave! He would nae leave without saying goodbye!” she sobbed, but then realized that he had indeed said goodbye, in his own way. His kiss had been his farewell, only she had not known it at the time. A lump formed in her throat and nausea swelled in her gut, as though she had been kicked by a horse. Her face paled, and her eyes were lined with sorrow. She felt as though she was going to throw up, and retreated to her room, sinking onto the narrow bed and holding the letter in her hands. Rory came to find her, but she called out to him that she wanted to be alone.
But that wasn’t true. She didn’t want to be alone, she wanted to be with Ian. Yet, he had made it impossible. He had betrayed her, and she hated him for it, but she still loved him as well. This love ran deep within her, and she could not easily rip it away. She cried, tears falling down her cheeks, along her lips, dripping down onto her hands. Her breathing was heavy and shuddering. She clamped her eyes shut, wishing that if she willed it enough then the world would go away, but it would not.
She was holding the only thing Ian had left her, and in time she worked up the courage to read it. As she did, she heard it in his deep, rolling voice.
Lucy,
I know that you must be angry with me. I’m sorry. Being with you made me think of the future. I wanted a life with you, a life that I had given up on a long time ago, but it is impossible. I have pushed the boundaries of the law and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes for the distillery. I cannot let you and Rory pay for my crimes. You deserve to live free of your father’s shadow, free of suspicion. You should return to the keep. Take the jewelry I left in the pouch and present it as evidence to the Laird. Say that you found me in a tavern boasting about my success, and that you managed to sneak in and steal it from me. Tell them whatever you must for them to believe you. If Lady Boyd was willing to help you lie once, then she might be willing to do so again. Rory will lie for you too. Blame it all on me. You should be able to live a happy and safe life. I will be branded as a thief because it is only right. I should suffer consequences for breaking the law. If they find me, then I shall accept my fate, knowing that at least I got to spend some time with you.
