The Laird shared a confused look with the captain. “I must say, this is a strange thing tae say. I hae never come across many criminals who try tae make themselves innocent of one crime, only tae confess guilt tae another.”
“That’s because I dinnae want tae be a criminal, sir. I thought there was nae way out. I found myself indebted tae Murdoch, and he wanted me tae work with him. But I dinnae want that life. I dinnae want tae be like him. Murdoch sent me here tae steal from ye, but I ruined his plan because I want tae hold ontae what little honor I hae left. If my Da ever learns that I hae returned then I want him tae at least know I did the right thing. I would rather be held as a prisoner than live freely as an outlaw, and I wish tae surrender myself tae yer judgment,” he bowed his head deeply and waited for the Laird to respond.
20
The following morning, Anne awoke in tears. The whole thing had seemed like a horrible dream. She wiped tears from her eyes and turned away from the damp pillow, wishing that things had had a better outcome. Finlay was going to be punished for his crimes, destined to live a life of crime because he had chosen to save her from a situation in which she should never have found herself. She could do nothing to save him. She could not even promise herself to him, because what kind of life would they even lead? She would never be able to take care of a home that was built on a foundation of lies, and neither did she want to raise Rory among criminals.
But what was left for her?
Her heart ached with love, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to marry for convenience. At this present moment, she didn’t want to marry at all. There was another problem, however. After using all her money to pay off Finlay’s debt, she had nothing left for herself. She couldn’t afford to remain in this tavern or continue feeding herself and Rory. She had already sold her dress, she wasn’t willing to sell the necklace. She had that, and Rory hadthe dagger. They needed at least one nice thing to themselves, and she could not yield the last of her mother’s possessions. This grand scheme of coming to the gathering to win riches had proven to be a mistake, and it was a mistake she might well take a lifetime to recover from.
She didn’t even have enough money to get her and Rory home. Things were so pitiful that returning to Tarbert village was beyond their means. She hung her head and wore a desolate expression. How had she managed to let things get this bad? She ran her hands through her hair and pushed it away from her face, but it didn’t help clear her mind. She looked to the ceiling and then moved to the window, knowing that she wasn’t going to accomplish anything by staying in this room. Outside there were so many people milling around, none of them with the same worries as her. They were all walking around the market without a care in the world. Gold coins shifted among hands, flowing like a river, but they never found their way to her. Was she always going to be standing at a window, watching other people live their lives while she and Rory were forced to go without? She wished that there was a limit on the amount of tragedy people could suffer. There should have been a balance to the world, yet it seemed the scales were continually weighted out of her favor. The misery piled on top of itself, becoming larger and more dominating until it was a mountain that loomed in her mind and defined her very existence.
There was no escaping it, and the future did not hold any kind of promise.
Rory was downstairs. She saw him playing cards with a stranger. She did not think to disturb him, feeling that he might as well get some enjoyment out of life while he was here. With her situation, it would be difficult to dissuade him from joining anarmy somewhere and marching into battle. He would be proud of himself for supporting her, but it would end the same way the story always ended for soldiers, with an early grave and a weeping woman kneeling beside it, lamenting the years that had been sacrificed.
She ghosted out of the door and glided through the market, looking at all the things she would never be able to afford, and all the women she would never become.
The fresh air helped fight against her despair, however. She had always managed to think of a plan before, and she was certain that this time would be no exception. She just needed a flash of inspiration. Her first mistake had been falling in love with Finlay. Love was a weakness she had taken advantage of before, but now she was the one who had fallen prey to it. She passed stalls with fine dresses and jewelry. She even passed the merchant to whom she had sold her mother’s dress. It was hanging there. Nobody had bought it yet, but her pockets were empty. To her, it was the most beautiful, precious thing in the world, yet other people walked past it like it was just another dress.
She moved on as well, her stomach growling with hunger.
Anne came to a stall containing fruit and vegetables. The man tending the stall was preoccupied with another customer. It would have been so easy for Anne to pilfer a pear and slip away before anyone noticed. She needed it more than anyone else here after all, and was it really a crime if it was done out of necessity? It wasn’t as though there was a shortage of pears. The farmer could grow more. It was like stealing a drop of rain really. Anne’s fingers were already stretching out towards the pear when the farmer turned to her.
“Can I help ye?” he asked.
Breath shuddered out of Anne’s lungs. He smiled at her. There was no accusation in his eyes at all. He might not have believed that a lass like Anne was capable of something as heinous as stealing. She smiled.
“I was just looking,” she drew back her hand.
“Well, ye will nae find any finer fruits or vegetables in the entire market,” he boasted. He placed two gnarled hands on the stall, and he stood with hunched shoulders. Here was a man who worked day in and day out, tilling the soil from dawn until dusk, his shoulders weighed down by the burdens. A life of crime hadn’t done her many favors, but an honest life didn’t seem to do him any good either.
“I’m sure that’s true, but I’m running a wee bit short on coin at the moment. I’ll hae tae come back later,” she said and began to turn away.
“Wait,” the farmer said. He reached down and picked up a pear. He tossed it to Anne. She caught it, clasping it in her fingers. “Take one sae that ye know I’m nae lying.”
“I’m sure ye are nae,” Anne said and went to put the pear back.
“Take it,” the farmer said again, this time more insistently. He raised his eyebrows and gave Anne a sympathetic look. She smiled, feeling a little embarrassed. She nodded at the act of kindness and then felt even guiltier for contemplating stealing from him. She believed she ought to return his kindness with some of her own.
“Thank ye. Dinnae ye hae anyone helping ye here?”
The man shook his head. “It’s just me on my farm,” he replied, and clearly tried to seem upbeat about it, but there was no hiding the sadness from his voice. She wondered what had happened to his family.
“Would ye like some help?” she asked.
He considered it for a moment and then nodded. He welcomed Anne into the stall and introduced himself as Brandon. Soon enough, she proved her worth. As it turned out, more people were inclined to come to the stall when they were greeted by a pretty lass than an old, gnarled farmer, and all the customers enjoyed the patter Anne provided. Her wit was quick and she left them laughing.
“Ye remind me of someone I once knew,” the farmer said, arching his eyebrows as he counted out the coin. “I think I hae done more business taeday than I hae done for the entire year! Where are ye and yer brother heading? I hae half a mind tae take ye on. If this continues ye will pay for yerself in nae time,” he spoke with a smile. Anne wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
She started conjuring a lie in her mind, but just as her lips parted and she was about to give life to the words, she hesitated. Was there any point in lying to this man? There was no sense in being ashamed at admitting she had nothing. If she had learned one thing from her ordeal with Finlay it was that it was better to tell the truth, for lying only made things more complicated. She sighed before she spoke, flicking a lock of hair away from her face.
“I’m nae sure, Brandon. At the moment, I cannae afford passage home. I dinnae know for how long I can rely on the passage of strangers. I came here with grand dreams,” she cast her gaze over the market, “but I trusted the wrong person. I took pityon them. Used what I had tae save them from a dangerous situation.”
“Ye must hae cared about them deeply if ye used what little ye hae tae save them.”
Anne pursed her lips and nodded. “Aye, I suppose I did. I could nae let him pay his debts with his life, though, nae that it did much good anyway. The truth is I hae nae done many good turns in my life. I hae been taking care of my brother ever since my parents died, and the only means I hae been able tae find hae been through stealing. I know it cannae continue, though. I want tae dae better I just…I dinnae know how.”
