“But Lady Margaret ought not be moved,” the maid said.
“I’ll not allow her to endanger me another day,” he said. “Nay, not another hour.”
“But laird,” the maid said in a hushed voice, “I fear she may not survive a journey.”
“That would save me a good deal of trouble and expense,” he said before slamming the door behind him.
A short time later, Margaret had the odd sensation of looking down at herself from a great distance. There she was, Lady Margaret Douglas, sister-in-law to the queen, leaving Drumlanrig Castle in the midst of a howling storm in the back of an open horse cart that smelled of hay. Her sole guard was Old Thomas, the stable master.
Her mind drifted back to the day she arrived at the castle as a young bride, full of hope and dreams and accompanied by two dozen warriors and several carts that carried her trunks.
How far she and her mighty family had fallen. Not that it mattered.
She slept in fits and starts, waking when the cart hit a bump that jostled her head against the bare boards of the cart. The wind and rain slashed at her face, but the cold seemed to come from deep inside her.
Margaret had no notion how much time passed, whether it was days or hours, when she awoke to find Old Thomas peering down at her with a worried expression on his wrinkled face.
“Ye must hold on, lass,” he said. “Blackadder Castle isn’t much farther. You’ll see Lady Alison soon.”
Alison.Margaret smiled at the thought of her sister, but she could not muster the strength to speak.
“Your sister will nurse ye back to health,” he said as he tucked the rough, wet blanket around her. “You’ll be safe at Blackadder Castle under her husband’s protection.”
Safe from what? The worst had already happened. She had lost another babe.
The next time she awoke, it was to the painful tingling of warmth creeping into her hands and feet.
“Blankets! And more peat on the brazier, now! God have mercy, she’s so cold.”
She heard her sister Alison giving instructions and people scurrying about the room.
“Her gown is bloody,” Alison said. “Why did ye travel with her in this condition?”
The voices faded, and Margaret’s mind drifted again until her sister squeezed her hand.
“May William burn in everlasting hell,” Alison said. “I wish I could send him there myself.”
When Margaret felt Alison’s tears falling on her hand, she forced her eyes open.
“She’s awake, praise God!” Alison cried out.
“I lost the babe,” she told her sister, her voice coming out in a whispered croak. “I wanted it so much.”
All she had ever wanted werethe ordinary things most women had. A home, a husband, children. Children most of all.
“I’m so sorry, sweetling,” Alison said.
“I’m glad I made it here to you,” Margaret said. “I didn’t want to die alone.”
“You’renotgoing to die,” Alison said. “Ye must fight, Margaret.”
It would be a relief to let go and join her lost babes.
“I know what it is like to despair, to feel so beaten down ye lose hope.” Alison brushed Margaret’s hair back from her forehead as their mother used to. “One day, everything will be better. I promise.”
How could it? She would never have the life she wanted. And she was so very tired…
“Don’t let that whining, selfish, cowardly, poor excuse for a man take you from us,” Alison pleaded. “You mustn’t let him defeat you.”
