He opened the whisky and took a gulp straight out of the bottle. It trailed a fiery path down his throat, but he relished the burn. He lay down on the bed in his filthy clothes and dirty boots and drank himself into oblivion.
7
Grace tried as hard as she could to fit into life at Inverleck Castle, reasoning that if she was going to live there, she might as well make the best of it. However, her spirits were low, and were being dragged down even further by the sight of the guards drilling, practicing their marksmanship, and making preparations for some kind of military action.
Crissy noticed her constant state of moroseness and tried her best to cheer her up, even though she could see that it was futile. Every time Grace saw Fergus, her gaze followed him hungrily, and Crissy would often notice her wiping tears from her eyes.
At such moments her heart ached for her. Crissy would not even address Grace by the title ‘Mistress.’ They were more than mistress and maid; they were friends. Now, Crissy watched Fergus striding across the courtyard, towards the area where some of the guards were practicing their swordsmanship, and despite herself, she smiled.
He was certainly a fine figure of a man, she thought, lean and wiry with a handsome, open face, without any of his brother’s puffed-up vanity. She watched the way he mingled with the men; there was no sign of a social barrier between them, even though everyone knew who was in charge. Fergus had an air of wholesomeness about him; there was not an ounce of dishonesty anywhere.
One of the men gave him a playful punch on the shoulder, which started an impromptu sparring session. After a few moments, this became a free-for-all, with all the men joining in and punching each other, wrestling and shouting insults.
Grace came up behind her and put a hand on he,r shoulder as they watched the good-natured mêlée.
“Men!” Crissy said, sighing. “They are a’ big boys. They havenae got the sense they were born wi’!”
Grace said nothing. She could see Fergus among the men. He was pinning another man to the floor and pretending to strangle him. At that moment another guard jumped on his back and pulled him away, whereupon both the guards began to give him a few gentle caresses with their fists.
When he judged that it had gone on for long enough, Fergus stood up, laughing. His men were warmed up and ready to start some serious battle drill, and now he yelled at the top of his voice, “enough, lads!”
There was a collective groan as he said this. Clearly, the guards at Inverleck enjoyed the hard physical training, which kept them at peak fitness.
Presently, Grace saw William amongst the men. She was astonished; her brother had never been the kind of man who enjoyed any type of military activity. He had always done the bare minimum of training needed to keep himself fit, yet here he was, joining in with apparent enthusiasm as the Inverleck guards began their morning routine. This was not like William at all. What had happened?
Crissy had obviously noticed it too. “Is that William?” she asked in amazement. They were standing on a bridge that connected two of the towers on the outer reaches of the castle fortifications and had a clear view of everything that was going on.
“Aye, it is.” Grace was alarmed. Why had her usually peaceable brother decided to begin training with soldiers? Even at their own estate, he had preferred to help their father with estate matters, rather than be involved in the defense of the castle. It was not that he was a coward; far from it, since he had trained for the defense of their home against attacks from the English, and was an expert swordsman.
No, she thought. It was just not in William’s nature to fight when he did not have to, so the very fact that he was down there amongst soldiers was not a good sign.
A dreadful feeling of foreboding came over her. “Something is going on, Crissy,” Grace said to her friend. She was beginning to be very, very afraid. “And it is not good.”
Crissy had to agree with her. “Aye, hen,” she concurred, nodding. “But you must find out more about it before you scare yourself too much.” She took hold of Grace’s hand, and looked into her eyes anxiously. Over the past few days Grace had not been eating well. She was beginning to lose weight, and despite Crissy’s urgings and offerings of her favorite food, she had become lethargic and listless.
Yet now she seemed to be charged with a bolt of new energy. “I must find out what is going on,” she said determinedly.
Grace watched the guards as they stopped wrestling each other and started to practice their swordsmanship. She watched as she saw William and Fergus battling it out against other men.
Fergus was very nimble and quick on his feet, and soon overcame his opponent, while William, severely out of practice, lost his bout to one of the castle guards. He got back on his feet and shook the man’s hand with a wry smile.
“A good thing they were using wooden swords,” Grace remarked. “Or William would have been decapitated!” She said it lightly, but she was absolutely terrified.
They watched for a while longer, till all the duels were finished, and the guards left for other duties. William and Fergus left together, chatting amicably as if they were good friends. Grace did not know whether to be delighted or dismayed; if the two men became friends, it could mean even more complications in her life.
William was her brother, the closest person to her apart from Crissy, and she did not know how she could bear the torture of seeing Fergus with him every day. Still, she consoled herself, William would not be staying forever, but that would be yet another heartache. How could she live with Robert without his love and support? Whatever way she turned, there seemed to be misery and more misery.
* * *
They ate their midday meal with Robert and William, and Grace had to stifle a yawn as she listened to the Laird’s endless ramblings about the bloodlines of his prize horses. Grace was both glad and disappointed that there was no sign of Fergus. He seemed to be keeping his distance, and at least, when he was not there, she did not have to avoid looking at him, which was painful in the extreme.
Robert MacAndrew would always profess his love for his horses, but Grace had hardly ever seen him riding one. She suspected that they were like the woman he wanted to marry; merely breeding stock.
Several times, she caught Crissy giving her a warning glance, and William, who was sitting next to her, had to pinch her arm a few times to keep her from nodding off. As well as that, his constant boasting was becoming extremely annoying, and she was hard put not to tell him to shut his mouth.
Grace endured it for as long as she could, then took the opportunity to speak when Robert speared a piece of beef and put it in his mouth.
“M’Laird,” she said politely, “If I am to become your wife, I expect to do some charitable work in the local community. How do I go about that?”