Page 18 of Stolen by the Rival Scot (Tartan Trails of Love #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

O nce Edward had left, Caitlin moved around the room and began gathering the necessary items. She was at the dressing table, checking for the things they were going to need, when she turned to Evelyn.

“Are ye nae going tae go down fer breakfast ‘afore we begin tae get ye ready, me lady?”

Evelyn was feeling a little hungry. At the same time, she was also nervous.

“I dinnae ken if I can eat, Caitlin.”

The maid’s eyes widened. “Och, ye have tae eat something. Ye have the entire day ‘afore the feast. Ye’ll be half starved if ye dinnae tak’ anything.”

Of course, she was right. Evelyn nodded. “Perhaps a little something then.”

“Good.” The lass nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “Then I will go and fetch yer breakfast. While I’m there, I will get the maids tae bring hot water fer yer bath.”

Caitlin swept from the room like a woman on a mission, leaving Evelyn still sitting in bed, thinking about the day ahead. The castle was already housing more people than it had in years. All the time and effort and preparations she had made came down to that day, that celebration. It was somewhat overwhelming to think that she and Edward would be paraded in front of all those who had arrived.

That is what this day is all about. They are here tae celebrate yer union.

But not everyone was there. The people she wanted the most were not there. Alistair would not look on with pride in his eyes as the child he had raised was given to another. Another whose task it would be to look after her now.

Also missing were the people who had brought her into this world. Her mother and father. For the most part, over her life, memories of them had come and gone like a whisper, swirling in and out of her awareness. She struggled to remember their faces and the sound of their voices had left her long before that. What she would never forget was the journey that had brought her to the very castle where she now lived. That, and the fateful night that had changed her life forever.

On their way to visit Uncle Alistair, they had travelled over several days from their home. On the first day, Evelyn had been full of excitement, jumping from one seat in the carriage to the other, a curious child, riddled with questions her mother and father tried to answer. Being so young, for she was not yet five years old, such a journey was a huge adventure.

That night they had stayed at a tavern. With her wide eyes filled with wonder, she had taken it all in. The smells of ale and food that had made her tummy rumble. The raucous laughter of huge men sitting by the fire, their pints of ale spilling onto the stone floor as they relayed stories to each other. Old, wizened women huddled in the corner, their mouths moving, but no voices to be heard.

The bed had been hard, and the room simple. Although it was nothing like her bedchamber at home, she had hardly cared. Nor had sleep come easily, for the excitement had kept her awake far past her usual bedtime. All the stories in the world had not helped.

On the second day, still eager to soak it all in, Evelyn had sat by the window, watching so much of the wide world she had never seen. Again, they stayed overnight at a tavern, but Evelyn could not keep her eyes open nearly as long that night.

By the third day, she had grown weary.

“How long, Papa?” she had asked, over and over again.

Her father, a patient man with a soft smile and gentle presence, had soothed her curiosity, even though he never gave her a straight answer. Dusk eventually fell, but the carriage continued going. Evelyn’s sleepy head had rested on her mother’s knee; her tiny legs tucked up to her stomach as she lay on the soft seat.

Soon, it got dark outside.

“Are ye sure it is wise tae continue, Finley?” her mother had whispered. “Surely, we should stop at another tavern. We’ll be better rested tae meet yer braither on the morrow.”

“There isnae long tae go, me love,” her father replied. “In less than an hour, we will arrive at Alistair’s castle. It mak’s nae sense tae stop now.”

Evelyn, who had eventually dropped off to sleep, was woken suddenly by a high-pitched shriek that flew from her mother’s mouth.

“Finley!” she screamed. “Finley!”

“It’s all right, Mary,” her father had cried. But his voice betrayed his fear.

The carriage screamed to a sudden halt, and only then, still half asleep, did Evelyn hear men’s bellowing voices outside.

“Stop the carriage. Stop the carriage now.”

“They are going tae rob us, Finley.”

Her mother now shook with terror, and Evelyn herself whimpered in fear.

Her father swept her up in his arms and lowered himself to the floor of the carriage. Shoving Evelyn under the seat, he stared at her intently, the fear dancing in his eyes.

“Stay under there, Evelyn. Dae ye hear me? Dinnae move until I come fer ye. Dae ye hear me?”

Evelyn nodded frantically; her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

“Papa?” she whispered.

Pushing his fingers to his lips, he widened his eyes. “Be silent now. Like a little mouse.”

And then, he stood, and all she could see were his boots. His boots were shiny, the fiery torches of the carriage reflecting off the polish. Evelyn heard the men bellowing, and then the door to the carriage was yanked open.

She had spent years trying to forget what had happened after that. The sounds, the cries of her parents, the utter fear she felt as she listened to them being hurt.

She eventually fell asleep, exhausted from all the crying, but had then been awoken by voices outside. The carriage had bowed and swayed and then, Evelyn, unable to stop the sound from leaving her throat, had squealed at the sight of the muddy boots that clomped in front of her eyes.

The bandits were long gone. Having expected his brother and family to arrive the night before, Uncle Alistair had sent his men out looking for them. They had eventually found them, her mother dead, her father’s breathing so shallow that they initially mistook him for dead, and Evelyn still hiding.

It took some effort for them to get her from under the seat, for such was her fear, Evelyn had screamed and screamed. Once they pulled her free, the men had wrapped her in blankets, picked her father up, jumped on their horses, and thundered away.

When they had reached the castle, her father was still alive, and with the help of the healers things had looked okay for a short while. But the very day he had opened his eyes again and spoken to his brother, asking him to care for his little girl, had been his very last.

It had taken another year before Evelyn was able to speak again and it had been many years later when she had discovered the fate her parents had met. They had been murdered for the coin in their purse and a few items of clothing.

Uncle Alistair had been careful with his words, but he had made it clear that he who would look after her from thereon in. And look after her, he did. With kindness, and love. Even though she was never his, he treated her like his own daughter.

And now, none o’ them are here tae see how me life has turned out.

An overwhelming sadness had taken over her as she had remembered what had happened all those years ago. A memory she had kept suppressed for so very long. It was the strangest feeling. A heavy, morbid feeling that she had not allowed herself to feel for what felt like an age.

And ye decide that today is the day tae remember it.

Mirthlessly, she laughed at herself.

Truly, Evelyn, ye dinnae mak’ life easy.

Sometime later, Caitlin returned with a tray laden with food. Evelyn had pushed her sadness aside by then, for if anything, she knew both her parents and Alistair would want this to be a joyous day. Consoling herself, she knew they were there in spirit, even if they couldn’t be with her in person. They would always be with her. They always had been.

“Now,” Caitlin began, setting the tray down on the bed in front of her. “After yer breakfast, we’ll get the bath organized. The maids are on their way with the water.”