The Posy Ring Episode 93

Mateo answered his cousin: “I have nothing to offer her. It would be folly. And she dare not disobey her father.” “But she has no feelings for man. This Darroch.”

“How could she, when she’s met him only a few times? Love may grow. Few of her status ever marry for love. Few of ours either, Paco.

“It’s a dream some of us have. Few ever attain anything but the cold shadow of it. I’ve heard nothing bad about him.” “Nothing good, either, I’ll be bound.” “Well, he’s considerably older and he has children from his first wife.

“But he has men and cattle and horses in plenty and a fine house. As big as Achadh nam Blàth. Bigger.

“It will be a good match. She’ll be comfortable there. And who could not love her?”

Francisco was silent for a moment or two. Then he repeated: “But she loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.

“When I was painting the portrait of her, whenever she was sitting and you came into the room, I saw her eyes light up for you. I know I saw it, because I tried to catch it with my brush. And I think perhaps I did.

Envious

this

“If I’m honest, Mateo, I was envious. I half wished that she would look at me like that. But she never did. Look at the portrait and you’ll see that she has eyes only for you!”

“Don’t! Don’t torment me.”

“You gave her the poesy you?”

“How do you know? She wears no ring.” “She wears it next to her heart, on a golden chain. I’ve seen the chain and guessed what it held. I see everything.

“It’s what I do. I use my eyes and paint what I see and what I feel. Oh, Mateo, can you do nothing? Will she not tell her father how she feels?”

“I don’t think she can. And I can’t betray her trust. If I did, her good name would be gone for ever. And we would still be banished. Or slain. We’re still the enemy, even here.”

“Have we not won some respect?” “Our position is equivocal at best. No. It’s ring, other didn’t better to let things take their course. go, as we came, with McAllister.

“And soon it will be as though we had never been here, and life will resume its old pattern for them, as it should. It’s the best I can do for her now.”

***

Heartbreak is not instantaneous. It takes time, like a lingering malaise. Mateo thought he might die of the pain of it, but he didn’t.

He worked hard by day and was glad of the oblivion of sleep, but as soon as he woke up, he was instantly swamped with more pain.

He and Lilias managed one more meeting before the day of their planned departure, slipping out of the house independently, very late one night.

She was quieter than usual but when they made love on the heather bed in the old round tower she clung to him in sudden desperation.

“I shall die,” she said simply.

How can I live without you?”

“Don’t say that.” He was helpless face of her love.

“It’s the truth. I can’t do have to tell my father.”

“You mustn’t. If I thought it would do any good I would have told him myself. Asked him for your hand. But I have nothing to offer you. Nothing that would suffice for the laird’s daughter.

“I don’t much care what happens to me, but you would be shamed in the eyes of your people.”

An omen

“I shall without

We’ll in die. you. the

I’ll

It was a warm night. The dim twilight of midsummer hung over the island. It would never quite get dark.

The air was soft and sweet. They heard the sudden sharp piping of an oystercatcher, passing overhead, seeking its mate perhaps.

“Bride’s bird,” she said. “That’s St Bride’s bird. Perhaps it’s an omen.”

But of what, she didn’t say.

They rose, dressed, climbed stone steps and walked along below the Dun.

She kilted up her skirts and paddled out into the water a little way.

Her hair was loose, the heavy red length of it, and when she bent down and lifted down the the shore water in her cupped hands, he saw that the droplets glowed and shone with their own inner light as they fell. He caught his breath.

“Is this magic?”

She laughed, close to tears.

“No. It’s no magic. Or only in the way that all beautiful things are magical. It’s usual, on fine summer nights like this one. Our fishermen speak of it often.” “How can I leave this place?” “Don’t go!”

“How can I stay somebody else?”

They walked back to the house, but separated before they reached the door. He let her go first, heard her greet the man who was on watch in friendly fashion.

“The night is so fine that I thought would walk along the shore!” she said.

She went inside by a private stair that led up to her and Ishbel’s chamber, high up in the tower.

Inscription

He lurked outside for a while and then went round by a circuitous route, and in by another door, where Francisco was waiting for him.

“Come and see,” he what I have done!”

In the room they had shared for so many months, the portrait of Lilias was propped up against the wall. The little crusie lamp was burning.

By its uncertain light, Mateo saw that Francisco had inscribed, across the background to the portrait, the words Un temps viendra. A time will come.

“My work,” he said. “I thought it a inscription.”

“What will they say when they see it?” “I doubt if they’ll even notice it. Not McNeill, anyway. He doesn’t have his letters, does he? It will mean nothing to him.

“But

“Come it may mean something

More on Monday. when you’re said. marrying to and see fitting

Lilias.”

The Posy Ring, first in the series The Annals of Flowerfield, is written by Catherine Czerkawska and published by Saraband. It is priced at £8.99.

I

I can’t betray her trust. If I did, her good name would be gone for ever. And we would still be banished. Or slain