Held by the Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance Page 11

  Beth couldn’t believe what was happening. One minute she was listening to the bishop praise her work and the next the chapel ceiling was collapsing in front of her eyes. She waved people away further from the chapel, worried the whole thing would crumble.

  She caught sight of Andrew in the middle of it all, stones falling around him. One hit his shoulder. He fell and she gasped but then he was up once more, continuing to guide people out.

  She lost sight of him again as a mass of screaming bodies ran past her. There was an ear splitting sound as the last of the ceiling fell in an enormous thud. A plume of dust rose up but all Beth could hear was the ringing in her ears.

  Were there still people screaming? She walked forward toward the church, seeing white ghosts emerging, coughing, blood falling from head wounds. “Andrew!” she shouted but even if he answered her ears were ringing too loudly for her to hear it.

  Further in she spotted the bishop laid on his front, a stone on top of his back.

  She shoved it off him, trying and failing to drag his still form across the rubble strewn floor. A hand appeared next to her, taking hold of the bishop by the shoulders.

  She looked. It was Andrew. Blood was flowing freely down his cheek as he pulled the bishop from the chapel.

  “I’m so sorry,” Beth muttered as they reached the courtyard. “It’s all my fault.”

  Andrew didn’t answer. He was already back inside the chapel, helping his men to move stone, reaching down to free the people still trapped. Beth ran to help.

  The next few minutes were a blur of shifting stone and helping one person after another. Only when Andrew was certain that no one was left under the rubble did he finally emerge, sitting on the rushes outside and wiping the blood from his eyes.

  Duff MacLeish emerged from the crowd to stand in front of him, arms folded. “If that was a plot to kill me, it didnae work, did it?”

  Andrew got to his feet, sounding more tired than angry. “If I was plotting to kill you, do you think I’d be in there at the same time?”

  “I’m thinking maybe you got the timing wrong. The bishop wanted to speak to me after the service. Is he in your thrall or was the plan to kill us both?”

  “Och, dinnae talk daft.”

  “You invite me to the blessing and then the roof collapses. I’m supposed to think what? That it’s a coincidence? I was not born yesterday, laddie.”

  “It was her fault,” someone shouted, pointing at Beth. “She said it was finished.”

  “Aye, she did,” another voice added.

  Beth felt all eyes on her. Even Duff turned to glare. “Well, lassie? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Andrew prepared to defend Beth, a plume of dust drifted out from the chapel, falling on the dead and wounded. The injured were being tended to by James but it was obvious some of them would never awaken. Would the bishop? Was there a curse on the MacIntyres? Was God himself trying to kill Andrew?

  As he’d dragged the last of the victims out from under the fallen stone, he thought of Fenella. She had told him he should look up sometime. Was this what she was referring to? Should he have noticed the ceiling was about to collapse?

  “Perhaps your master mason is not as good as she claims,” Duff said, taking a step toward Beth. “People are dead and dying lassie. Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

  Andrew marched over, separating the two of them. “You will calm yourself MacLeish.”

  “Calm myself? I was almost killed.”

  “As were many of my people.”

  Beth looked up at them both, her face pale. “The falsework,” she said. “It was the falsework.”

  “What are you talking about?” Duff asked.

  “The falsework. It was holding up the arches until the mortar set.” She was talking more to herself than to either of them. “It shouldn’t have been taken down yet. Someone must have removed it.”

  “Explain yourself,” Duff said. “Before I take you into my custody.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Andrew said, his voice cold.

  “Are you going to stop me?”

  “I will do what it takes to protect her.”

  “So you want a war over a woman do you?”

  Beth stepped between them, turning to face Duff. “The falsework was holding up the stone until the mortar set. I said it was to stay up, that it wasn’t ready to come down yet but someone took it out. They must have known what would happen.”

  “A likely story. You’re just trying to cover up your incompetence.”

  “I’m telling you someone took it down.”

  “And who would do that?”

  A voice spoke from their left. “I know.”

  The three of them looked that way. One of the kitchen girls was holding up her hand. “I was on my way to feed the chickens just before the bishop arrived.”

  “And?” Duff snapped. “What did you see?”

  “I saw Derek coming out of the church carrying the falsework.”

  “Och, you’re a wee servant. How do you even know what falsework looks like?”

  The girl stood taller, glancing from Duff to Beth, a shy smile on her face. “I’ve been watching her. I want to be a master mason when I grow up.”

  “A kitchen girl becoming a master mason? Now I’ve heard everything.”

  Beth smiled at the girl. “Are you sure you saw him?”

  “He took it behind the chapel and then he came back out without it. I didnae know the mortar hadnae set. I thought Beth had told him to do it.”

  “Well there’s one way to settle this,” Andrew said, setting off through the crowd of people. “Let’s go look.”

  They walked behind the chapel together. Andrew kicked at the piled up rushes by the nave wall, revealing the falsework underneath.

  “Where is my son?” Duff roared, spinning around on the spot. “Derek!”

  “He took Beth out to look at the battlements,” Andrew said. “Just before the service began.”

  Of course, he thought. Derek didn’t want her to see what he’d done. He knew if she went inside she’d spot the missing falsework at once. “Where is he?”

  “Here,” a voice said from the portcullis. Andrew looked over to see Gillis holding Derek by the scruff of the neck. “Caught him trying to run off. I wondered why he was sprinting like the hounds of hell were after him. What’s happened here?”

  “Why dinnae you speak up and tell us all?” Duff asked. “What have you done, laddie?”

  “I did it for you, father.”

  “What?” Duff roared. “Are you saying it’s true. You brought down that ceiling? You almost killed me? Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I didnae know you were going to be here. If you’d told me you were coming, I could have warned you.”

  “I am Duff MacLeish, laird of my clan. I do not need to tell you anything. Why did you do it? Your answer better be good.”

  “I thought if Andrew was dead there’d be no reason for me to stay here. I could come home and we could rule the highlands together as father and son.”

  “You set the mercenaries on him at the loch, didn’t you?”

  A slow nod.

  “Did you burn Pluscarden too?”

  Another nod. “My man Rufus but I was paying him.”

  Duff turned away in disgust, looking at Andrew with his hand outstretched. “I owe you an apology. I sent a snake into your midst without even knowing it. Will you shake my hand?”

  Andrew took it, feeling the eyes of everyone on him.

  “You can execute him yourself or I’ll take him back and deal with him for this atrocity. Name whatever you wish and it shall be done.”

  Andrew looked at Beth, seeing the sparkle in her eyes. He knew at once what to do. “What your son did, he did for the right reasons. He wanted the clans united as do I. If you would grant me one wish it is that we put aside our feuds and come together to fend off the English.”

&nb
sp; “Done.”

  “Please forgive me, father,” Derek wailed, tears running down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

  “Save your blather for the executioner. You have burned, you have killed, you have destroyed. Tears will not save you.”

  There was a groan from the ground and the bishop sat up slowly, shaking his head. “I have a suggestion,” he said, getting to his feet. “If you would hear it, MacLeish. You have founded an abbey at Melrose, have you not?”

  “Aye,” Duff replied.

  “Derek, do you wish to repent of your sins?”

  “I do,” Derek shouted from the portcullis, throwing himself onto his knees, his hands clasped together in the air. “Forgive me, I beg you. I don’t want to go to hell.”

  The bishop nodded before turning back to Duff. “Let him be the first novice to enter the monastery grounds. There your son will learn the true meaning of repentance and humility.”

  “Will you accept that?” Duff asked Andrew. “I leave the decision up to you for it is you who has been most aggrieved by his actions.”

  Andrew turned to Beth, seeing the slightest nod of her head. “I agree,” he said.

  “Oh, thank you,” Derek called out, crawling through the mud on his knees. “You are kind and just, my laird.”

  “Get up out of the mud,” Duff said. “And stand over there until I am ready to leave. Say not another word or the monastery may have a novice entering with no tongue to sing their blessed psalms.”

  He turned his back on his son, facing Andrew and Beth as they stood together. “I will take him back to my castle and to the monastery thereafter. I will send a dozen of my laborers here as a gesture toward your forgiveness. Use them to help rebuild your chapel.”

  “I thank you for your generosity,” Andrew replied. “Now I must tend to the wounded.”

  “Of course. We will talk of our union soon. I have a daughter coming of age that I would have you marry. That will cement the bonds between us.”

  Andrew shook his head. “That will not be possible but Gillis is next in line to the lairdship. Perhaps you might introduce him to your lassie.”

  Duff nodded, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Beth. “I think I understand. You have given your heart to another. In the usual course of events I would mock such sentimentality in a laird but these are not usual times. The union of our clans will hold despite your rejection of my offer. Farewell, MacIntyre. Until we meet again.”

  He walked away, grabbing hold of Derek as he went and shoving him over to their waiting horses. Andrew turned to Beth. “You said you would stay until the chapel was complete. Will you keep that oath?”

  “I will,” she nodded. “Now go help them. We can talk later.”

  He left her in conversation with the bishop as he began moving through the crowd. James had already taken charge of the walking wounded. They had gathered by the infirmary. Other MacIntyres were tending to the more seriously injured.

  He gathered his men to him. “Bring me stretchers of canvas and get as many as you can into the infirmary. We will have need of much water from the well and as many cloths as you can find.”

  “Aye,” they said as one, moving away and getting to work at once. Andrew looked around him. Beth was still talking to the bishop. He caught a snippet of their conversation, her explaining the advantages of stone vaulting over wood and the reasons why falsework was so important.

  Duff and Derek had ridden away. He found himself thinking about everything that had happened since the fire at Pluscarden. Should he have spotted that Derek was responsible? Would his father have known? He shook his head. It was not the time for introspection. That could take place once the wounded were tended to.

  As he headed over to the infirmary to assist, he couldn’t help feeling a great joy. He knew it was selfish in the midst of so much destruction but it was there nonetheless. She had said she would stay until the chapel was completed. He had dreaded the end of the service for he knew that was when she planned to bid him farewell and return to her own time.

  The collapse of the vault was awful but it also meant a stay of execution. He could snatch a precious few more weeks with her. It would never be enough. He wanted a lifetime but he could not have it. She had insisted on returning to her mother no matter how much he pleaded that she might change her mind.

  If he could not have a lifetime with her, a few weeks would have to do. He would just have to make the most of the time they had left and then survive on the memories afterward.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was long after dark when Beth finally stopped work for the night. As the sun had set, she had lit candles around the chapel, allowing her enough light to continue removing the fallen stone with the help of the laborers.

  “How bad is it?” Rory asked.

  “Not as bad as I first thought. “We can reuse many of these stones. I think perhaps a guard this time though to ensure the falsework is not interfered with.”

  “I doubt that will happen again now Derek is gone.”

  “Nevertheless just to be sure.”

  An hour later the wind began to grow. One by one the candles were snuffed out and eventually relighting them became pointless. Beth called a halt until dawn the next day.

  She watched the laborers heading out of the castle to their villages. They all looked exhausted. She was not surprised. Her limbs ached as she made her way to the castle keep.

  She had missed dinner, not wanting to waste any time in shoring up what was left of the roof. A few of the slate tiles had fallen but most had remained in place on the timber framework. It was only the vaulting itself that had collapsed.

  She made a rough calculation of how long it would take to repair. They might have a working chapel in a month though the plastering would have to wait until the following year. The important thing was getting enough lime mortar and she would need to ask Andrew if he could afford it alongside all his other expenses.

  She had already increased his building costs many times over with the work she had set in place. She was starting to realize that the job of master mason wasn’t just about the work, it required some financial acumen and tact as well in explaining why costs kept going up.

  She entered the keep, closing the door behind her to keep the draft out and the heat in. The fire would have died down in the great hall but the warmth remained in the stones for many hours afterwards, heating the corridors and staircases until late into the night as long as doors were opened as little as possible.

  She passed the hall, hearing the sound of snoring coming from within. Up the flight of stairs she went, heading for her room. She opened the door and walked into it, surprised to find Andrew sitting on the chair by the window, looking out into the courtyard.

  “You frightened the life out of me,” she said as she closed the door behind her. “I thought etiquette meant you couldn’t be alone in the same room as an unmarried woman at night.”

  “I care not for etiquette this evening,” he replied. “I thought I was going to lose you today.”

  “In the collapse, you mean? You made sure I was safely out.”

  “Nay, I mean I thought you were going back to your own time.”

  “Oh.”

  She crossed the room to the ewer of water, splashing a handful onto her face, wiping away the dust and grime of her work.

  “What’s she like?” Beth asked as she turned back to face Andrew. “Duff’s daughter?”

  “She will be happy enough with Gillis. I have seen them courting before now though I would never tell Duff that.”

  “Is that your only reason for turning down his proposal?”

  “There is another reason.”

  “Which is?”

  “We should not talk of that.”

  She frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because you wish to return to your own time and it would only complicate things for us both to discuss it now.”

  “You came to my bedchamber. What did you want to discuss? The wea
ther?”

  “I wanted to discuss marrying you.”

  Beth almost fell over. “What? You know I can’t.”

  “Why not? I love you. You love me. You have done so much for me and my people. You have begun a castle that will last for generations. Why not stay and see the work done?”

  “Because I have to go home.” She saw how hurt he looked. “I don’t want to go but I have to find my mom. She needs taking care of. She’s…she’s ill.”

  “You didnae say.”

  “She’s dying, all right? She hasn’t got a lot of time left and I can’t leave her on her own. I’m all she’s got in the world. Oh, why am I even trying to explain? You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I nursed my own mother through her illness. I watched her die slowly and painfully. Dinnae tell me I wouldn’t understand.”

  “Then you understand why I must go.”

  His eyes flamed. “Aye, of course I do. That disnae make it any easier to take. I love you, Beth. I want you to stay.”

  “And I can’t. I’m sorry, I truly am.”

  “I know that.” He looked aggrieved but the look softened as he stood up. “I know that,” he said again, his voice quieter.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, crossing the floor to him. “I wish I could stay. Truly I do. I want for nothing more than to marry you and make this castle my home but I must go back to my mom.”

  He nodded slowly, his hands slipping into hers. “Then you should go to her.”

  “I will miss you. More than anything in the world, I will miss you.”

  “I will miss you too.” He leaned forward, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “More than you could possibly know.”

  His hand slid around the back of her neck, drawing her toward him. He dipped his head and then they were kissing.

  Beth felt a surge of heat coursing through her body as they embraced.

  He pushed her back until she was crushed against the tapestry behind her. He continued to kiss her, his arms holding her in place, as if he never wanted to let go.