Surviving Scotland Read Online Free PDF

heard the horses. The Jacobites have been pressurin’ yer uncle ta allow them to set up a garrison. But he’s a loyal Covenanter. That’s likely why ye hid. Ye tho’ we were after ye. When I saw ye, ye didn’t recognize me. But we didn’t have time ta talk much because we were ambushed by a band o’ Jacobites. Ye ran away, but I caught up with ye and brought ye here, but afore we reached the castle, it rained. I tried ta keep ye warm, but I failed. Forgive me, Elle? ‘Twas because o’ me that ye were taken ill.”
    His brogue was broken with emotion. His moss green eyes were tormented. After searching my gaze for a moment, he closed his eyes, clenching his jaw with a self-recriminating expression. When he glanced back at me, I nodded. Yet I didn’t see how it was his fault. Since I was already in the glen, I would have gotten wet had he been there or not. In truth, he saved me.
    “It wasn’t your fault, Ioan. Thar’s nothing to forgive,” I spoke gently, holding his gaze.
    Ioan nodded at me and then exchanged a glance with Morag. The expressions they wore told me I was missing something. Curiousity burned in my chest, but I kept silent.
    “I’ll leave ye be now, lass. I’m thankful ye are soon ta be well.” Ioan nodded and strode from the room with graceful steps. The plaid he wore accented his broad back, and his dark hair was tied behind his head with a strap of leather.
    “Some things never change,” Morag whispered.
    I glanced at her and blushed, seeing that she was watching my intense study of Ioan’s backside.
    “Enough talkin’ fer now. I’ll be bringin’ ye up some broth in a bit. ‘Til then sleep, lass. Sleep.”
    With only the rustling of her homespun dress moving as she rose, she walked out the door, leaving me with my scattered and lost thoughts.

Chapter Three

    A man walked in with purpose-filled strides, interrupting Morag and my conversation over the broth she had brought. He was dressed much like Ioan had been earlier. I carefully averted my eyes from his bare knees and waited for him to speak.
    “Niece, I’m thankful ye’re mendin’, but ye need ta ken that I’ll no longer tolerate yer runnin’ off. Ye are my only kin an’ I plan on keepin’ ye alive! No more, understand?”
    Apparently, this was my uncle. I studied him for a moment. His eyes were weary and dark, and the creases around his face were deep and added a shadowed effect to his otherwise bearded face. He was shorter than Ioan and much stouter.
    “Yes, Uncle.”
    His eyes narrowed after I spoke.
    “What’s the meanin’ o’ this? Now ye’re English, eh? Oh for the love o’ the…” He paused and glanced to Morag, letting his words trail off unfinished.
    Her withering glare gave me a shiver. I glanced back to my uncle and nodded once.
    “Forgive me, I’ll do my best to amend my speech.”
    My uncle gave me a disbelieving glance, but nodded his approval. He waited by the door, switching his weight from one foot to another. After a moment he came closer to my bed.
    “Lass, I love ye, ‘tis true. Ye near gave me a death fright. Donna do that again ta me.” His brown eyes were tender as his rough hand covered mine. With a heavy sigh he glanced up as if in prayer, then focused once more on my face.
    “Aye,” I answered, the brogue coming surprisingly easy.
    My uncle’s face broke into an indulgent grin and he patted my head with his large hand before leaving, closing the door firmly behind him.
    “Ye’ll get used ta him. His yell is worse than anythin’ else. He loves ye lass, but ye do love ta escape beyond the walls o’ the keep. Careful no’ ta promise that which ye canna keep.” Morag kept her eyes on the broth as she stirred it.
    The silence was broken by the cracking and popping of the fire as I thought over her words.
    “I’ll leave ye ta this then.” With a pat on my blanketed knee, she left.
    ****
    The days passed quickly, and soon I was allowed to leave my room. My strength returned with