“You’re no’ to die, MacKinnion. Do you hear me?” She pinched his arm, furious because he was frightening her so. “Do you? You’re my husband. And I…I need you!” The words were torn from her, and she sobbed. “I love you, Jamie. You canna die! You canna!”
Much later, still sobbing, she fell asleep.
Dawn found her in a chair by the bed, watching Jamie. The heat of him had awakened her, and she’d spent the rest of the night bathing him with spring water. He was a little cooler.
“You’re no’ to pity him, you know.”
Sheena gasped. She turned to see Lydia standing at the foot of the bed, having entered silently.
The old woman was wearing just her sleeping shift and a woolen cloak over her shoulders. She looked terrible, her eyes darkly ringed, her hair unkempt. Aunt Lydia, who was always so fastidious.
She didn’t look at Sheena as she repeated, “You’re no’ to pity him. He doesna deserve it.”
Sheena frowned, bewildered. “But I dinna pity him.”
“Good. He did it himself, you see.”
“Did what?”
“Killed himself, of course.”
“Who did?” Sheena cried, suddenly alarmed.
“My father!” Lydia said, pointing a damning finger at Jamie.
“What is wrong?” Sheena asked sharply. “Do you no’ know your nephew?”
“Nephew? I have no nephew. My brother has no sons. Father would skelp him if he did, for Robbie’s too young.” Then Lydia frowned, uncertain suddenly. “But Father canna skelp him. He’s dead now. Is Father no’ dead?”
My God! “And how old are you, Lydia?”
“Eight,” the old woman replied, her eyes still riveted on Jamie.
Sheena gripped the sides of her chair. This wasn’t possible. And yet…hadn’t Jamie told her that Lydia had not been quite right since she was a child and had seen Niall Fergusson kill her parents? But that was not at all what Lydia was saying.
“You saw your father die, Lydia?” Sheena asked her, gently and very carefully. “Do you remember it?”
“How could I forget?” Lydia answered. “But he shouldna have done it. And The Fergusson shouldna have come. He was a fool to think he could have her.”
“Your mother?”
A single teardrop trickled down Lydia’s cheek. She didn’t appear to be hearing Sheena, and she looked so desolate. Sheena didn’t have the heart to press her. Yet Lydia continued talking without prompting.
“He was a handsome man, The Fergusson, with that dark red hair and eyes so bright blue. My Uncle Donald was so furious when he took The Fergusson away. He didna hurt him, did he? The Fergusson’s only fault was loving her.”
Didn’t Lydia know that her Uncle Donald had killed Niall Fergusson all those years ago—killed him brutally? It was becoming clear that Sheena’s grandfather Niall had loved Lydia’s mother and had come here to meet her—a lovers’ tryst? But Jamie had said Niall killed both his grandparents. How had that clandestine meeting turned into murder?
Lydia seemed to hear her thoughts. “My mother told me she was leaving. I wish she hadna, then I wouldna have followed her. But she didna want me to worry. She said she would send for me soon. They were going to France, she said. He had a family, too, that he was leaving. They couldna stay in Scotland after that.
“I cried, but she wouldna change her mind. I didna want her to go. I knew Father would be angry—and he was. He stopped them in the courtyard. ’Twas late. There was a bright moon, and I could see them from where I hid. They stood there arguing. Father was so angry—yet different. He didn’t seem…right, and…he…he…”
Lydia closed her eyes, awash with tears. She hugged herself, rocking, whimpering, seeing again what she had seen so long ago. Sheena visualized it, the husband confronting his wife and her lover, the rage and pain that must have consumed him if he’d loved her. Had he loved her? Or was she just a possession he wasn’t willing to part with? Was it only pride?
It was better not to let Lydia tell any more of it. She was so distraught, there was no telling what reliving it would do to her.
Sheena put her arm around the older woman. “Lydia, come, let me take you back to your room.”
“But I canna go. I must wait here. Mother will be coming back, now he’s found them. I must tell her no’ to worry. Father loves her. He will forgive her.”
