Gillian felt ashamed and inferior, and couldn't understand why. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong, yet she couldn't help feeling as though she had.
Shaken from their meeting, her only thought to get to her husband and tell him what had happened, she returned the horse to the stable and, despite the soreness in her leg, ran all the way to Ramsey's castle, hoping she would find Brodick there.
Proster met her and gave her the news. "Your husband's gone, milady," he explained. "They've all gone."
"They? Who?"she asked.
"The lairds," he answered. "Iain Maitland and my laird, Ramsey, and Laird Buchanan."
"Iain was here?"
"Aye, he was here just a bit after dawn this morning."
"Where did my husband go?"
"With Ramsey and Iain."
"Yes," she said, trying to control her frustration. "But exactly where did they go?"
He seemed surprised she hadn't been informed. "To the crest to join their soldiers. Surely you knew the call to arms went out days ago," he added.
"No, I didn't know," she admitted.
"The lairds have gathered their fighting men and by now they should have all assembled."
"At the crest."
"Yes," he said with a nod.
"And where is this crest?"
"A good ride to the south," he told her.
"Then they won't be back until late, will they?"
"Late? Milady, they won't be back for a long while."
She still didn't understand. Proster, seeing her confusion, hastened to explain. "They're going to England, and surely you know their purpose."
"I know they plan to go to England eventually, but you're mistaken in your belief that they're leaving now. If you'll excuse me, I'll go back to the cottage and await my husband's return."
"You'll have a long wait, then," Proster said. "He isn't coming back, and tomorrow you'll be leaving."
"Where will I be going?"
"Home," he answered. "I heard your husband give orders. There will be Buchanan soldiers coming for you tomorrow to escort you to your new home. Graeme and Lochlan are in charge of seeing to your safety until then."
Gillian's head was spinning, and her stomach felt as though it had been tied in knots. "And who are Graeme and Lochlan?"
"Graeme's a MacPherson," the young soldier told her proudly. "And Lochlan is a Sinclair. They're equal in their duties and their standing. We're all equal now, our laird has declared it so, and he says that we may keep our clan's name and still live in harmony as one."
"I see," she whispered.
"Are you feeling unwell, milady? You've gone pale."
Ignoring his question, she cried out, "Proster, you couldn't have heard correctly. When they go to England, they're taking me with them. I was promised… he wouldn't break his word to me. He knows… They all know that if the English see them, my uncle will die. No, you have to be mistaken. Brodick's going to come back for me."
Her distress alarmed the soldier, and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to lie to her, to tell her, yes, he must have been wrong, but he knew that eventually she'd have to accept the truth, and so he braced himself for her reaction, prayed she wouldn't faint on him, and then blurted out, "As God is my witness, I heard them correctly. Everyone knows… but you," he stammered. "They are going to England, and you are being taken to the
Buchanan holding. Your husband was concerned about your injury, and he wanted you to have one day's rest before riding such a distance. It was very thoughtful of him, wasn't it, milady?"
She didn't answer him. She turned and started to walk away, then stopped. "Thank you, Proster, for explaining."
"Milady, if you still don't believe me, talk to Graeme and Lochlan. They'll confirm what I've just told you."
"I don't need to talk to them. I believe you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go back to the cottage."
"With your permission, I'll walk with you," he offered. "You don't look well," he added. "Is your leg paining you?"
"No, it isn't," she answered. Her voice was flat.
She didn't say another word until they'd returned to the cottage. Proster had just bowed to her and turned to leave when she called him back. "Do you know where Kevin and Annie Drummond live?"
"All the soldiers know the Drummonds. When someone gets hurt, he goes to her for help. If he doesn't die on the way, she heals him. Most times, anyway," he added. "Why do you ask?"
"I was just curious," she lied. "In a little while, I would like to return to my sister's home. Would you please accompany me?"
Honored that the Buchanan's woman would choose him to escort her, he squared his shoulders. "I would be happy to ride with you, but didn't you just come from your sister's?"
"Yes, but I forgot to give her the presents I brought from England, and she's most anxious to have them. When I'm ready to leave, I'll send for you."
"As you wish," he said.
She closed the door softly, walked to the bed, and sat down, and then buried her face in her hands and wept.
Chapter Thirty-Five
She moved with an urgency born out of desperation. Tearing the Buchanan plaid from her body, she threw it on the bed and reached for her English gown. She had already packed a small bag, filled it with the necessities she would need on her journey.
Bridgid interrupted her. Gillian heard her call out, opened the door a crack, and told her friend she wasn't feeling well. She tried to shut the door then, but Bridgid wouldn't let her. She pushed it open and rushed inside.
"If you're ill, I'll help you. Why are you dressed in those clothes? Your husband won't like it. You should be wearing the Buchanan colors."
With her back to her friend Gillian tossed her brush into the bag and then tied it closed. When she turned around, Bridgid saw her face and knew something was terribly wrong. "What is it?" she demanded. "Tell me and I'll help you any way that I can."
"I'm leaving."
"Yes, I just heard, but not until tomorrow. Your husband's soldiers won't be here until then. Is that what's upsetting you? Don't you want to go to your new home?" she asked, trying desperately to understand.
"I'm going home to England."
"What? You cannot be serious…"
"And I'm never wearing the Buchanan plaid again. Never," she cried out. "Brodick betrayed me, and I will never, ever forgive him." The truth of it overwhelmed her, and she sat down on the bed before her legs gave out. "He gave me his word that he and Iain and Ramsey would wait…"
Bridgid sat beside her. "They've all gone to England."
"Yes," she answered. "Proster told me this morning that they had left. Brodick promised me that he would take me with him. I made him give me his word before I would tell him the names of the barons who helped Gideon take Alec Maitland."
"What was their reason for taking the laird's son?"
"They didn't mean to take him. They thought they'd kidnapped Ramsey's brother."
Bridgid's mind was racing with questions. "Start at the beginning and tell me what happened. Then maybe I can figure out a way to help you."
"You can't help me," she whispered. "Oh, God, I don't know how I'll be able to protect my uncle now. I'm so scared and I…" Her voice broke on a sob.
Bridgid patted her arm and pleaded with her to explain.
And so Gillian told her everything, beginning with the night her father was murdered. By the time she was finished, she realized how hopeless her situation was.
"If you don't return to England with the box or your sister, how will you save your uncle?" Bridgid asked.
"It doesn't matter now. As soon as the lairds attack, Alford will order Morgan's death."
"What makes you think your uncle is still alive? You told me that Baron Alford has never kept his word."