This is my first attempt of actually posting something I have written, and quite nervous about the reception of it. I would like to thank Maggie Finson, Morpheus, and many other authors for inspiring me. I would like to also thank all the people who kindly offered their services for editing, and proof reading, and words of encouragement. Finally I would like to thank djkauf for editing this for me. I guess I should state that this a work of fiction and similarities to people living or dead is a coincidence, it also has been inspired by Diane Galbaldon’s series of books and all rights to this story are reserved by me.

I can remember it clearly, as if it was yesterday; maybe it was, it is so hard to tell. Honestly I really can’t say anymore, but I do remember my other life, it wasn’t one of the best, but I am sure it was better than some. My name was Ian MacPherson, a soon to be sixty year old man and my tale starts out on a decision to visit Scotland for my sixtieth birthday. I didn’t plan to visit anyone in particular, although I did have cousins living there, but we never had much contact each other than through my parents and theirs and visits when I was much younger. The aunts and uncles I had known were gone, and so are my parents. I am pretty sure they and I would have found a visit by an American cousin rather awkward. So I decided to do the tourist visit, seeing the famous landmarks and such that I had enjoyed so much in years past.

Ironically I found myself on my sixtieth birthday at the battlefield of Culloden, which was fought on April 16 in 1746, only I was here on that date 269 years later. I remembered clearly my first visit here; I was eight and my uncle filled my young head with all the legends of Bonnie Prince Charlie, the ’45 rebellion and the last stand of the Highland Clans. I stood there remembering the past, and looked out over the moor from the location of where the Highlanders formed their line. I swore I could hear the shouts and cries of wounded and dying men, the thundering of cannons, the volley of musket fire, and the mournful wail of bagpipes. Perhaps the veil between future and past was thin that day, maybe it was an over active imagination. Whatever it was, I would have insisted that I had heard it. I had often wondered how history would have changed had Charles Edward Stuart regained the throne, would history have been better? Or would the outcome of world history be worse.

I glanced at my watch and noticed the time and if I wanted to be in Aberdeen by night fall I needed to get moving. It was getting late in afternoon as it was, and I still wasn’t comfortable driving in Scotland so I knew time was of the essence as I would be overly cautious on my drive across the moors.

Well, just to say I didn’t make it to Aberdeen that night would have been an understatement, because this was the time where my previous life and my new life became intertwined for a brief moment. As I dawdled along on the way to Aberdeen, somehow, and I can’t remember how it happened, I soon found myself lost on a small road not the well-traveled A96. Being stubborn, I wasn’t going to turn around; my male ego just wouldn’t allow it. I figured I would find something that would point me in the right direction. As I drove along I found a sign mentioning Inverurie; stopping I glanced at my road map and found I could pick up A96 there and hopefully still find myself in Aberdeen before night fall. I had always believed that somewhere one of my ancestors truly had pissed someone or something off, because my typical luck reared its ugly head, and the car started to sputter, cough and finally die. I was coasting slightly downhill so I pulled over, and cursed every one of my ancestors, not knowing who to blame. I figured I would have better luck finding a farm somewhere between here, where ever here was, and Inverurie, and started hiking down the road in that direction.

As the afternoon started drawing to a close and what my mother used to call the gloaming appeared, I noticed lights off the road in the distance to the right. I hoped I would find a farm there that might have a phone. So I left the road, climbed a stone wall and started across the moor in the direction of the lights. I soon found myself on a dark moor with a thick mist rising. I found myself stumbling across the moor unable to see more than an arm’s length in front of me. Strangely enough I found myself, from what I could see in the thick mist, in what appeared to be a stone circle. I could make out the shadows of standing stones in the mist and with the recumbent stone which was in front of me having a slight glow and emanating a slight humming noise. As I approached the stone, I heard what seemed to be whispering voices coming from somewhere outside the circle in the mist. As I turned toward the sound preparing to challenge the sound, I tripped over something buried in the gorse of the moor and found myself falling toward the recumbent stone. My head struck the stone, and as I felt myself slipping away into darkness I heard the whispering stop.

How long I was unconscious, I can’t say, other than it was daylight when I opened my eyes. As I tried to sit up, a feeling of dizziness started and I found myself collapsing back on to the ground, not wanting to move. I closed my eyes, due to the bright sunlit morning sky. I felt around my head for an injury, from when I hit the stone and I felt a somewhat sticky mess on the right side of my head, but there was something else different. I continued to feel around my head, and it seemed that I had more hair than I should. I had always kept my hair fairly long, but this was longer than usual. If my hair had changed, what else had? I forced my eyes open despite the glare of the sun tilted my head forward, and looked down towards my feet and noticed my chest had a noticeable change. I had grown breasts!

I blinked, making sure I wasn’t seeing things. Yes, they were breasts, but they seemed constrained by a green woolen jacket. I also noticed there was an ornate silver brooch with a large mounted topaz in the center holding something together. Looking beyond my latest additions I could make out the tips of black leather shoes, peeping out of what appeared to be a dress or skirt that seemed to be made up of beige woolen cloth and something made of a white cotton or linen under that. I decided I needed to stand up. Fighting a bit of dizziness and nausea, I was pretty positive I had a slight concussion, but I knew I couldn’t stay out here. For if I passed out again I could possibly die, I knew I needed treatment and I was going to have to find help myself. I gathered my new wardrobe in one hand and forced myself to my knees, the dizziness tried to overwhelm me but I fought it and stood up.

Fighting the dizziness I decided against all reason to discover what other changes had happened; some of which I was afraid to find out judging by what I had already seen. I seemed shorter, but I wasn’t sure, as there was nothing to gage against that I could compare to. My arms and hands, from what I could see, were definitely a lot more slender than I could recall, my legs were covered by the skirt and my feet were incased in the shoes. I put my hand to my chest and felt mounds of flesh that were encased in the jacket. Under the jacket I felt something stiff and realized it was probably a corset and it was uncomfortable and pushing against my breasts forcing them up. I raised the skirt and my legs, which seemed slender, were encased in what appeared to be black stockings made of fine wool and held up by tied garters, around my thighs. I raised it a little higher reached under with my free hand and was shocked to find out my gender change was complete. I was surprised there wasn’t anything like underwear other than the thin cotton gown under the woolen skirt and the stockings. The basic shock of finding out I wasn’t me anymore brought about another bout of dizziness and I felt myself slipping away again. I fought against it and lowered the skirt and took in the rest of my wardrobe, noticing a disheveled red cape with green and blue stripes. It was belted together with a black leather belt just under my new breasts and pinned together with the ornate silver brooch. When I straightened it out it practically covered me like a coat. Lastly tied to the belt was a leather pouch which curiosity, despite the dizziness, bade me to open. Inside was a small sheathed knife which I recognized right away as a sighn dubh which was used for eating and perhaps protection. Also, I saw a sprig of white heather and several gold and silver coins; whoever I was now wasn’t poor.

All in all I looked like I was ready for the Ren Faire. I looked around to get my bearings, and didn’t see the stone wall I remembered or the road. I couldn’t find the farmhouse whose lights took me away from the road, basically figured out from the layout of the stone circle where I entered and headed back in that direction hoping to find my car, answers and help. I staggered across the moor, struggling with the overabundance of clothes; long hair falling into my face, dizziness and the dull throb of a headache. I did find what looked like it was supposed to be the road, but it wasn’t paved any longer and it wasn’t much larger than a cart path. Just then for some reason an old movie phrase popped into my head and I found myself saying out loud “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

This chapter and the others that follow won't really have much TG in them. They mostly will explore how Ian deals with his gender transformation, and why it happened. I hope to keep those that read them entertained, well at least I will try to. So I give you the next chapter. Thanks for all the kind words on the last chapter. I have to give a big thank you to djkauf for the editing.

I looked up the road to my left and saw nothing particular, and to my right I guessed was the direction of Inverurie. I had no idea of how far Inverurie was or if it even existed. I was at a loss; the only thing I was certain of was that things were different than they were earlier. I decided to head up the hill, in the direction of where I had left my car, although I had a feeling the car wouldn’t be there. As I walked up hill, it dawned on me how much energy I had, which could only mean my new self was younger than my old self was.

I stopped for a moment and placed my hand where I remembered feeling the stickiness, earlier and didn’t feel anything moist just matted hair, I guess my head wound had stopped bleeding and it wasn’t tender, so I figured there wasn’t a fracture. I pulled my hand away, glanced at it, and verified there wasn’t fresh blood, just what appeared to be flakes of dried blood. I reached the point along the slope of the hill where I felt the car should have been. As I figured, there wasn’t any trace of it, or of it having been moved. I was really beginning to feel I had fallen down the rabbit hole. I had no clue as to where I was, or who I was supposed to be. My head was throbbing and I was getting nauseous again. I was sure I needed help soon. I waited for the nausea to recede, and continued with trudging up the hill, I was getting warm from the exertion, and I was sure the layers of wool weren’t helping either. I didn’t know how far I had walked, it was becoming a blur. The headaches and the bouts of dizziness caused it to be a struggle just to remain on my feet.

As I continued to walk, I came across what I would have called a driveway. I stopped and looked up it, I could see an L shaped house in the distance. Since I had nothing else to lose, I started up the cobblestone road toward the house. When I was about half way suddenly there was a clatter coming up from behind me. I quickly looked and saw a horse and carriage bearing down on me. I tried to move out of the way as quickly as possible, but tripped over my skirts and lost my balance falling along the side of the road. It was too much, I felt the dizziness come on and I let it take me into darkness.
I vaguely recall the first sensations I felt after that fall, but I remember hearing voices. They were followed by the sound of a closing door and then flashes of light as I tried to wake up. My eyes closed as the darkness slowly passed from my mind and I drifted back fully into consciousness. I was lying on a bed when I awoke. That I wasn’t wearing my clothes soon became apparent to me as I lay among the bedclothes. I looked under the covers, and saw I wasn’t naked but was wearing a cotton nightgown, but who put it on me, and where was I?

I sat up in the bed and looked about the room. It wasn’t a small room but then it wasn’t overly large either. The bed was what I would call a four poster with a small canopy which covered the head of the bed and draped down to either side. There were two windows on the wall beyond the foot of the bed; where I could see the bright light of the day, and what looked like a vanity and mirror with a padded stool between the windows. Along the wall to my left was an armoire flanking a fireplace and mantle. Above the mantle there was a painting of some pastoral scene and a chest of drawers against the wall beyond that. The other wall had a desk and chair. The rest of the room was furnished by two tall backed chairs flanking a small table in front of the fireplace. Lastly, there was a door to my right in the wall where the head of the bed rested.

As I took in the room I heard, the rattle of the doorknob turning and a young woman entered the room. She was dressed similarly to what I had been wearing earlier but much plainer and without the large cape. She entered the room as if not to disturb me. She looked quite startled to see me awake and sitting up, and quickly made an exit. I guessed she was off to find someone. Which made me think, what was I going to say? I couldn’t very well say “Hello, my name is Ian and I am from America.” I am sure I would be declared quite insane. I know I could say I don’t know or remember who I am that wouldn’t be far from truth. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I was going to have to lie about things. Who I was, where I am from and why I was in the middle of nowhere. I hoped that I wouldn’t get caught in the lie, but I was worried about my accent as well. I heard footsteps coming closer from somewhere outside the door. Soon a middle aged woman entered the room. She appeared to be of average height, brown hair showing signs of grey. It was tightly pulled up making it look like rather short curled hair with a long white kerchief pinned to her hair. Her clothes were similar to what I had been wearing but appeared be much finer. She had no jacket, but a white blouse with an open neck under her dress. She wore a scarf that was draped around her shoulders, pinned together at her chest over the open neck of the blouse.

“So you are awake, you had us quite worried,” she said, looking at me. “Are you feeling well then?” Gathering my courage, I replied “Yes, I am feeling quite well, and I must thank you for taking care of me.” Now I know that I had really fallen down the rabbit hole, because as soon as the words left my mouth, I realized, it had come out in a soft lilting Highland accent! “Well then.” She said. “I suppose introductions are in order. I am Lady Jean Moir, sister of Lord Erskine, in whose house you are a guest.” “This is Moira,” gesturing to the young woman who had entered earlier. “She will be acting as your maid during your stay. She is quite capable, I assure you, and you are?” I thought quickly, before replying “I am Susan Gordon, my Ladyship.” I used my mother’s maiden name; it was the only that came to mind quickly. “Well then, Lady Gordon, it is a pleasure, now I will leave you with Moira. She will help you dress and show you to the main hall, where my brother Thomas and my husband are waiting.” She then turned and left the room, without me getting the chance to explain I wasn’t “Lady Gordon.” I had a funny feeling my lie just got bigger.

“Lady Gordon, will you need to attend to personal matters before dressing?” Moira asked. I wasn’t sure what she was asking, and then it dawned on me. I realized I did have an urgent need. I just nodded to her and she reached under the bed and pulled out a ceramic pot. “I will wait out in the hall my Lady” she quickly left and closed the door behind her. I looked at the pot. How was this going to work I wondered. I won’t give details, suffice it to say. I figured it out. Moira came back in a few moments later, stoked the fire and placed a few things into the coals. She pulled a dress out of the armoire, and a few things out of the chest of drawers. I just stood watching what she was doing. “Lady Moir had a couple of dresses altered for you, my Lady. The measurements were taken from what you had been wearing.” “She had dresses altered?” I asked. “How long was I in bed Moira?” She, brought over another cotton gown, though slightly fuller from the hips down, and lifted it over my head and helped me get it settled. “I think it was three. No, it has been four days my Lady.” I thought to myself then the date would be maybe April 21st. “Then the date is the 21st of April then?” I asked. She then fitted me with something like a vest but, it laced up the back. “That’s right Lady Gordon, How tight do you wish your stays my lady?” She asked. I was a bit perplexed on how to answer. “Whatever you think best, Moira.” was the best answer I could come up with. She started pulling at the laces near the bottom working upward, I could soon feel the stays of the garment pressing against my rib cage. She gave two strong tugs at the top I could feel her tie the laces together. “There, that should be fine, just loose enough for you to be comfortable.” I thought she had to be joking I could barely breathe. “Here is your petticoat, Lady Gordon." She stated. It was of white linen, I stepped into it and it was pulled up to my waist and tied off. “Now before we put your dress on you, let me fix your hair.” Then she asked. “Now then, how do you usually wear your hair Lady Gordon?”

Sitting me down on the vanity bench with my back towards the vanity, she awaited my answer. “I usually, just wear it loose around my shoulders.” I said. Which wasn’t far from the truth, with the exception I never let it get that long. “That will never do Lady Gordon.” She said firmly. She began to brush it out. As she was brushing my hair, I started to think of how to find out what year it was, I was certain it wasn’t the 21st century. I did learn one thing though; having your hair brushed is a wonderful feeling. She then she went over to the fireplace, and pulled out a small rod with a wooden handle from the coals, and returned with it, then proceeded to wrap strands of hair around it. Soon all I could smell was scorched hair. She returned the rod to the fireplace, waited a few moments and repeated the process. She stood in front of me looking at my head. Then she started arranging it on the top of my head, She started pinning it here and there. I looked up at her from my seated position and she seemed pleased. She then reached in to the vanity drawer, pulled something out and stated lacing something through my hair. “Now it is time for your dress, Lady Gordon.” She brought over this pale blue silk dress. No, it was a gown, or at least what I thought a gown was, and I had to step into it, put my arms into the sleeves, then Moira pulled it over my shoulders, and buttoned up the back. I looked down and all I could see was the tops my breasts; I felt naked. Moira turned me around to face the mirror on the vanity, and all I could do was gasp at what I saw.

Staring back at me was a young woman with an oval face with flawless features. Her hair was a very dark brown, almost black. It was pulled back and a mass of curls where beads had been woven through could be seen at the back of the head and reached downward towards the nape of an elegant neck. Her blue-grey eyes were, looking out from under soft arched eyebrows. The pale red lips were full, but not plump. Her skin was fair, but had been touched enough by the sun not to be pale. The pale blue silk gown was low necked, that showed off the tops of creamy breasts that hinted at the fullness that was hidden. Then tapered into a narrow waist, and then flared out over her hips and down to the floor. I was pretty, I don’t know if I would be called beautiful, but the young woman I saw was attractive. Then Moira said. “You are very beautiful, Lady Gordon.” All I could see was the young woman in the mirror blushing deeply. Then for some reason I turned and hugged her and said. “Thank you.” She was quite shocked at the hug, and returned it hesitantly. She quickly broke the embrace, and quickly went to the armoire. “Now here are your slippers. She got down on her knees and helped me into these silk slippers, which reminded me more of very short thick socks.

“Lord Erskine and Lord and Lady Moir will be waiting; allow me to show you to the main hall, my Lady.” She said it so curtly; I wondered what I had done wrong. We wound our way through a narrow corridor, then down a very old stone staircase which was actually part of the wall. This ended in a room that had two sets of massive doors set opposite of each other. She opened the one set of doors curtsied and announced “Lady Gordon, your Lordship.” Then she stepped aside for me to enter, and closed the doors behind me.

“Welcome to Pittodrie House, Lady Gordon” said an older gentleman, dressed completely in tartan, from his coat and vest to his knee length pants. They were all were done in a red and green tartan. He was approaching me from the middle of the room. When he finally reached me, he put out his hand as if he wanted to shake hands. I put out my hand and he took it gently and surprised me by kissing the back of it. He then gently steered me, placing my arm around his as he guided me into the room. “I am Lord Thomas Erskine, and my sister you have met. Standing behind her is her husband, Lord John Moir.” As we approached the middle of the room and then I noticed there were two other men. They were sitting in high backed chairs, facing the fireplace at the far end of it, and engaged deeply in conversation. Lord Erskine said a bit loudly “I must make apologies, Lady Gordon. These two unmannered men are my son William and his guest.” As soon as they heard the loud voice, both men stood up. One man, who was dressed very similar to Lord Erskine and looked like him, but younger, I guessed was William. The other man was younger than William but dressed in a tartan jacket and vest, but instead of knee length pants he was wearing, what I knew was called a Féileadh Má²r (Great Kilt). It was also red and green but the pattern of the tartan was different than that of the Erskine’s. “Allow me to apologize for our rudeness” said the one who I thought was William. “I am William Erskine, and this is my dear friend, Sir Andrew Stewart.” Sir Stewart approached he too offered his hand which I took. He then kissed mine, and William did the same. “It is a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.” I said.

“Would you like a sherry before we dine?” asked Lord Erskine. “I would indeed.” I replied. Lord Erskine rang a bell and a manservant entered. “A sherry for Lady Gordon, Angus.” “Yes, my Lord.” Angus said with a bow and then left. “While we wait for that, how is it that my carriage almost ran you down, Lady Gordon?” How was I going to get around this question? I wondered. I am not sure if anything will be believable “Well, here goes nothing.” I said to myself. “It is rather embarrassing, Lord Erskine. You have been so gracious, with your hospitality. I suppose an explanation is in order.” “I really hope I don’t sound that formal all the time.” I thought to myself. Just then, Angus the manservant walked in and came over to me with a tray holding a small delicate glass filled with an amber colored liquid. I took the offered glass. “Thank you, Angus” “He bowed and left. I took a small sip, giving me time to think.

“The fact is I tired of life in Aberdeen, and left my father’s house, because I wanted to see something other than our gardens. My parents were talking marriage; I didn’t want to move from one house to another just to stare out different windows. So, I took a horse, and stole away in the middle of the night. I don’t know how long I had been riding, and I am not much of a horsewoman, so I was getting rather sore and tired, when something startled the horse and it starting bolting across the moor. I couldn’t get it to stop.” I took another sip of the sherry.” “I fell off the horse and my head struck a stone. The next thing I remember was waking on the moor not knowing where I was. I couldn’t see the horse, and started walking. I eventually found your house.” “Well it was partially true, even if it was a bit anachronistic.” I said to myself, hoping it would work. There was only silence, the old joke about only hearing crickets seemed appropriate. However, the crackling of the flames in the fireplace acted as a substitute.

Then all of a sudden, I heard. “Well, that is some tale Lady Gordon, but truthfully, I am shocked at that kind of behavior, from a proper young woman. After all, you are to obey your parents until you are married. I am not sure what to make of your rashness.” Said Lady Moir, rather haughtily. “Your parents will be looking for you, so we must send word to them, so you can be returned home.” Trying to look chastised, I nodded. “Yes, Lady Moir, I understand completely.” Well, out of the frying pan and into the fire, luck was never a strong suit. I happened to glanced over at Sir Stewart, and saw to my amazement, he looked intrigued. Lord Erskine looked at me sternly and said. “It is getting too late in the day to send a message now, but one will be sent first thing in the morning, I will leave it to you to write a letter, Lady Gordon, but I do expect to see one on the morrow.” “Yes, Lord Erskine.” I said, while silently cursing to myself, not coming up with something better. I walked over to a window and stared out it, and saw this beautiful formal garden. “Might I be excused for a while, and walk through your garden? I need time to ponder what to write to my parents” Well actually I needed time to figure out what to do as “my parents” wouldn’t be found. “Yes, yes, that’s fine.” Said Lord Erskine, grumpily.

I left the room, not quite as gracefully as I entered. Angus the manservant was outside the door. “Angus, which way is it to the garden?” I asked. “This way, my Lady.” Opening the set of doors opposite of me he led the way into a short corridor, then through, a smaller door on the right then through an arch that lead to the outside and the garden. “Shall I let you know when the meal is being served my Lady?” “Yes, please, Angus. Thank you.” He gave me a strange look, then turned and headed off into the house. I noticed the day was bright and cool, I needed something to cover myself with but I wasn’t going back inside, I would have to bear it. I started walking the gravel path, which wove through the many varieties of flowers, and bushes. I knew I was going to have to disappear in the middle of the night; I wasn’t sure where to go. I felt lost, I wanted to be myself again, not this young woman whose story I didn’t know. This emotional turmoil was just too much. I soon found myself gently sobbing in a quiet corner of the garden. How long I let my emotions flow from me I don’t know, but I knew I felt better for it. There was a rustle in the bushes ahead of me “Hello?” I said. Suddenly this old haggard looking woman came out of the bushes. She stared at me as if seeing something or someone behind me. In a harsh raspy voice, she said. “You’re the one the Old Ones sent. I sensed it. I see their mark on you. You have far to go before their task will be done.” “Who are the Old Ones?” I asked. “To know the Old Ones is to find the stones of the ancients on the night when the moon is full, only then will they tell you what you need to know.” I thought I heard footsteps on the gravel path. I turned and didn’t see anyone. When I turned back to talk to the old woman, she was gone. The footsteps on the gravel path got closer. I turned, and it was Sir Stewart, with this sly smile on his face. “I have one question, Lady Gordon. Do you wish to go back to Aberdeen?” “Why do you ask, Sir Stewart?” “Because, if you don’t I will take you away from here tonight."

*A couple of things about this chapter. Lord Thomas Erskine of Pittodrie and his son William did exist. Lord and Lady Moir did as well and she actually was Thomas’ sister. Andrew Stewart is fictional and my creation. Pittodrie House still exists, but now it is a hotel. However, the Erskines of Pittodrie lived there for nearly 300 years.

Well my muse fought me on this from word one to the last. I think it could have been better. Thanks to Maggie Finson for helping me, I tried Maggie, I hope I got the right idea. Again thanks again to all those that take the time to read my attempts of entertainment and your comments, they really make my day. And of course a big thank you to djkauf for editing.

“Take me away from here? Why would you offer to do so?” I asked.

“Well, I do have reasons, one of which is that it is a shame to see such a bonnie lass as yourself trapped into a life that I think she doesn’t want. Besides I was leaving on the morrow anyways; leaving earlier isn’t an inconvenience, and the thought of an attractive woman such as you traveling with me would make the journey a lot less unpleasant.”

I looked at him “This offer does solve my problem about leaving; but why does he see me as attractive?” I thought to myself. “May I have time to think about this, can I give you an answer after we dine?”

“Of course” He replied. “May I escort you back to the house, Lady Gordon?”

“Please it is getting cold, and I didn’t bring anything to cover me.” He took my arm into his and walked rather close to me through the garden back to the house. I could not figure for the life of me why, it felt so……. nice.

I wish I could say the dinner was nice, but the reception at dinner by Lord Erskine and his sister was subdued. While polite conversation was made, it did appear I had made a faux pas with my story earlier. The meal was excellent, many dishes of venison, fowl, root vegetables and one of my all-time favorites cock a leekie soup.

The bright spot of the dinner was that it seemed that both William and Sir Stewart were in some form of contest to see who could engage me in conversation the longest. I really couldn’t say much because of what I did know, and there was so much that I didn’t know. I did enjoy the banter back and forth between these two men, who obviously had a good friendship. The two of them were so different. William was dark haired, showing signs of grey and his hair was long and worn loose. With these intense dark eyes, a long face with a nose that appeared that had been broken at one time, but with a strong chin and jaw, and a somewhat small mouth, he appeared to be no more than his mid-thirties.

Sir Andrew Stewart though was almost the exact opposite, a long, straight nose, blue eyes that were full of mischief, broad cheekbones, solid jaw with a wide mouth, and thick long light brown hair that that was tied at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t have been any older than 25 at the most.

After we finished eating, wine was served to each of us. Upon completion of the glass of wine Lady Moir stood up, after which all the gentlemen followed suit, I guessed I needed to as well, Lord Erskine opened the door to the dining room; Lady Moir left the room and it appeared from the glances of Lord Erskine and Lord Moir I was to leave as well. I followed behind Lady Moir back to the main hall where we sat in silence. I tried to make trivial conversation, but she would only give curt answers in reply. It seemed Lady Moir was rather upset with me.

I decided then to accept Sir Stewart’s offer. I couldn’t see staying here waiting for a non-existent reply or father to show up. It would be unbearable, and only bring attention to my lie for what it was. I knew I had to go, but to go off with someone I didn’t know, and choose a location of where go, was a hard decision. It was, however, I think the better choice.

Soon the sounds of conversation drew closer and the men entered the main hall. Lord Erskine and Lord Moir both appeared to be a bit flushed, from drinking excessively, while William and Sir Stewart seemed to be continuing a serious conversation quite animatedly. They divided into two camps with the Lords Erskine and Moir with Lady Moir, while William and Sir Stewart encircled my chair. Why the two younger men would wish to engage me in conversation, it would have appeared at dinner that I had little to offer, and my hesitancy to answer direct questions would have made me appear shy, or worse yet aloof. However, the attention given to me by these two men was hard to understand. I wasn’t very sociable, and I didn’t think I was so attractive that I was desirable.

They seemed, however, to go out of their way to try and draw me into conversation. Then the question was brought up, and in a hushed tone “So, Lady Gordon do you support the “The King that is over the water?” asked William. I knew exactly what he was asking, and it gave me a time reference, it had to before 1745. Judging that my hosts were probably Jacobites, I answered in a whisper with “Yes, I support the true King.”

Then William raised a glass and said “To the little man in black velvet.” glasses were raised “To the little man in black velvet.” They said in unison.

Tired of sitting I stood and walked over to the fireplace and was soon joined by Sir Stewart. “So lassie have you made a decision yet?” he asked rather informally.

“I have decided to take you up on your offer, Sir Stewart.” I replied.

“I thought you might, be ready, since we will leave a couple of hours after all have retired for the night, and since we will be traveling together call me Andrew, and if I may be so bold I will call you Susan.” With that, he took my hand and kissed it. Then he stopped and talked to William in a whisper, then spoke to Lord Erskine, Lord, and Lady Moir. Then he left the room.

I turned and stared at the fire and wondered why the room seemed empty all of a sudden. I too decided if I was going to be traveling I should get some rest, looking outside I could see that night had fallen. I guessed that there wouldn’t be much time to do so. I approached Lord Erskine, and Lord and Lady Moir, made my excuses, by saying I needed to write my letter to my parents. William took my hand kissed it, gave me a strange knowing smile, and bade me good night.

When I got to my room Moira, was waiting. “Will you be retiring Lady Gordon?” she asked. I knew I was going to need her help in getting dressed into my traveling clothes, so I decided to confide in her. “What I need Moira is your help, I need to change into the clothes I arrived in, I am leaving tonight with Sir Stewart.” She looked a bit shocked, but then sort of a sly smile came over her face “Oh, he is a handsome man isn’t he, Lady Gordon? I wish I could find a handsome man like that to take me away too.”

“It isn’t like that Moira, I...I just can’t go to Aberdeen, for many reasons, and he offered to take me away as Lady Moir and Lord Erskine, want me to return there, and I have no need to, nor do I want to.”

“Well, Lady Gordon, that may be true, but you can’t say having a handsome man, like Sir Stewart wanting to take you away is a hard decision.” She unpinned my hair and let it fall, removed the beading in it, unlaced my dress and stays and helped me undress. Then she went to the armoire, and pulled out the clothes I remembered waking in which seemed like a lifetime ago.

She helped me into my clothes, with the exception of the green jacket and the large striped red cape and belt. “I think you can manage those Lady Gordon.” She said. I noticed the coin purse was still attached to the belt, I walked over opened it and took out one of the several gold coins in it. “Here Moira, take this” I as I took her hand and placed the coin into her palm. “It is for helping me and for you not to tell Lady Moir where I have gone.”

She looked at it “A gold guinea? Oh Lady Gordon this is too much, I can’t accept it.”

“Please Moira I want you to have it, we haven’t known each other long but I would like to think of you as a friend, and I need a friend right now.”

“Well Lady Gordon, I thank you, and you can count on me not to say anything, and it isn’t for the money either, you have treated me nicely, in this short time, which is more than I can say for some for whom I have worked for a longer time. If you wish, I will stay with you until Sir Stewart comes for you.”

“I would like that Moira, thank you, although I am sure I need a little rest before traveling.”

“Well Lady Gordon, let us sit in front of the fire, and you rest and I will keep you company.” She said. That is what she did, until a knock at the door aroused me. Moira answered it and Sir Stewart was there.

“You ready, lassie?” Was all he said upon entering. I just nodded, and Moira helped me with my jacket and cape. As I finished buckling the belt, I turned to Moira and gave her a hug and said

“Please take care Moira, you will be in my thoughts.” She returned the hug “You take care Lady Gordon; I do hope to see you again.”

“I guess I am ready, Andrew.” Remembering to be informal, he turned walked out the door and I followed, down the stairs and through the double doors that led outside.

There were two horses waiting, “Well lassie, I hope your ability to ride improves, we will be riding hard and fast.” He helped me mount a beautiful grey horse. “The horse’s name is Sidh* and she is a gift to you from William.” I adjusted my skirts as I sat on the horse making sure my feet were in the stirrups. He mounted his horse, and I noticed he was armed, four silver flintlocks, were clipped to a large silver buckled belt that crossed his chest it sheathed a basket hilted broadsword at his left hip and a large round studded shield was strapped to his saddle.

“Will we need weapons Andrew?” “He just smiled and said “Well lassie, I haven’t told you the whole story, we will need to avoid the Lobsterbacks, and if we are caught, before we reach Ardsheal it might get a bit messy.” With that he galloped down the road from the house, I kicked the grey with my heels and I followed him, wondering what I gotten myself into. I caught up to him easily, although I could tell my riding skills needed improvement. As we galloped down the main road in the night, I saw the moon it was waning, but judging what I could see I had nearly a month before the next full moon to find the ancient stones and get my answers.

We galloped along the road putting distance between Pittodrie House and us; until we could feel the horses laboring and we slowed down to a walk to allow them to cool down. When I caught my breath and trying not to feel sorry for myself with the aches I was feeling I asked. “Why would the government troops would be looking for you Andrew?”

He smiled “I knew you were going to ask as soon as you could, I have just returned from France, I am on a mission for the Prince, and I know word has gotten out of my return; the government as you put it would like to get their hands on what I know. I can’t allow that to happen.”

“Andrew, this Ardsheal where we are going, where is it?”

“We are going to Ardsheal House, lassie, it is the house of my cousin Charles Stewart and sort of my clan chief, If we ride hard and don’t stop maybe three maybe four days, If we stop once it might be five days, longer if we have to avoid trouble.” After another half hour or so, we started galloping again and by daybreak, we had reached Huntly. We skirted around the outside of Huntly at a trot not entering the town, slowing down when we caught glimpses of red-coated troops. Strangely, I remembered glimpses of Huntly as I drove through it nearly a week ago; it seemed smaller now than what I did remember. When we reached, a certain point, Andrew looked for a landmark then started in a different direction at a trot judging by the sun we were sort of heading west. By nightfall we were on a road again at a gallop and Huntly was long behind us I was growing exhausted by this point, was nodding off in the saddle.

I felt the reins jerk and saw Andrew grabbing Sidh’s bridle. “Lassie, why didn’t you tell me you were tired?”

“I didn’t want to slow you down Andrew.”

“You just about fell out of your saddle, there is a small village not far from here. We will stop at the inn and get some food; the horses probably need a rest anyways.” We continued down the road at a walk and by daybreak, there it was a small village constructed of whitewashed stone and thatched roofs. On the far side of the village was a larger building with stables, where we dismounted. I could barely stand the idea of walking the ten feet to the door. It seemed an impossible task. Andrew gave the stable hand some money to take care of the horses, and then practically carried me into the inn.

When we entered, the inn it wasn’t very busy, and Andrew sat me down at the nearest bench and table and he took the bench opposite me watching the door. A tired looking woman came over; she looked like she already put in a hard day’s work. “Good morning, my Lady and good morning my Lord.” She said.

“Two bowls of porridge and tea Madam.” Said Andrew.

“Right away my Lord.”

Andrew continued to look around the room if trying to find something, and then got up and walked over to the door that opened to the back of the inn and traced something that had been carved into the lintel. The woman returned with the porridge just as Andrew returned to his bench. “Do you find many white roses around here?” he asked.

She looked at him and replied. “There hasn’t been in a long time, although I hope they will return.”

Andrew said to her directly “They are returning.” She gave a bright smile at those words, left and returned with the tea. “Be careful my Lord, there are those who wouldn’t want to see those roses close by.” Those words had barely left her mouth when, four red-coated soldiers and an officer came into the inn and sat down on the far side of the room from us.

Andrew unclipped two of his flintlocks and silently eased the hammer back on each before handing them to me under the table. “Eat quickly, only use them if you have to, let’s try and leave before they do anything.” He whispered. We ate quickly and quietly the porridge was warm and filling, I did notice though it was coarse, and not anything like my Quaker Oats I remembered having. One of the pistols Andrew gave me was sitting in my lap and I could feel the weight of it, it has been sometime since I had fired a weapon, and then it was an automatic, I really hoped I didn’t have to use them. I glanced over at the soldiers, and I saw the officer pull out a piece of paper and read it then looked at Andrew and read it again, then said something to the soldiers.

Andrew hearing the noise of the soldiers getting up quickly said “Time to go lassie.” I gathered the pistols into my hands and made sure they were covered by my cape Andrew got up and made his way to the door. I clumsily followed, hampered by trying to keep the pistols covered.

We were no sooner out in the yard heading to the stables, when the soldiers stormed out of the inn two of them raising their muskets “Halt in the name of the King!” shouted the officer. Andrew quickly drew one of his remaining pistols and fired at one of the soldiers killing him instantly. I pointed one of mine in the same direction and pulled the trigger the recoil just about sent me flying, but another soldier went down. As I recovered, I raised the other pistol as Andrew fired his remaining one killing another, dropping the pistol, drew his sword with his right hand, and with his left a dirk that was belted to his right hip. Then he charged the remaining soldier. The soldier fired his musket at Andrew and in the black smoke, I lost sight of Andrew and the soldier. I adjusted where I was pointing the pistol towards the officer who was drawing his sword and fired. As the smoke cleared, I saw Andrew coming out of a crouched run quickly batted the soldier’s musket away with his left arm and hacked him with his broadsword. I saw the officer lying dead by the door and fainted.

*Notes on this chapter Sidh means Fairy in Scottish Gaelic. The White Rose was a symbol that Jacobites used to show support of James III in exile, and "the wee man in black velvet" was a toast they used to express support, what does it mean? Well I wish I knew, I couldn't find anything that explained what it meant, so your guess is as good as mine.

Well, here it is , just in case you were wondering where it was the latest chapter, real life seems to rear its ugly head at the wrong times. Again thank you for all the comments, and as always a great big thank you to djkauf for the editing.

“Lassie, wake up, Susan wake up” I kept hearing a voice telling me to wake up. Who was Susan? Why, was I being called a lassie, I wanted to ignore the voice, but it was insistent. “Susan, we have to go, the rest of the redcoats will be here soon. I opened my eyes and stared into the deepest blue eyes. Then I remembered Andrew, the redcoats. “Andrew?”

“Yes, lassie now let me help you up we have to get on the horses and ride.” He helped me to my feet and then helped me to mount Sidh. He gathered his pistols, then mounted his horse and we galloped off away from the village and the carnage I helped make, I killed people, and they are there, lying on the ground in puddles of blood, I didn’t even think of what I was doing I just aimed and fired and now they are dead. I have blood on my hands and for what, I don’t even know why. Andrew soon left the road heading in a southerly direction, just slowing down enough so the horses wouldn’t stumble while we crossed the moors. Soon the terrain was too rocky and much too uneven for us continue at any speed without risking a horse breaking a leg, I just followed Andrew staring at his back while he picked his way through the terrain, I tried not to let my mind wander, because when I did all I saw were dead men staring at me, until something would break their spell on me.

We soon found ourselves on a road the followed a rather swift flowing river. It was the Spey, once we were on the road Andrew started galloping southward again. We slowed only to give the horses a breather; as they were laboring on this demanding pace, as I watched the river flow as we moved along the road. I wondered if I stopped and waded out into that swift current. Would it take me away and wash the blood from my hands, and give my haunters my soul as the payment they demanded of me?

We continued following the Spey southward until dark settled in. Andrew reined his horse to a stop and then left the road where about twenty yards or so away, there was a large deep depression surrounded by rocks. He dismounted, then helped me dismount and then led the horses into the depression, as I followed. At the bottom of the depression, the sound of trickling water could be heard. There among the rocks I could barely make out a small pool being fed from a small spring. He let the horses drink their fill, and then staked their reins. “We can’t be seen from the road while in here, but no fire, it will be best to fill yourself with the water and try and sleep.” I just nodded in reply. “You handled yourself well today lassie, unfortunately it will just bring more trouble, but it had to be done. I am glad to know I can depend on you.”

Again, I just nodded and found someplace to sit. I wrapped myself into my cape and tried to sleep. I remember the dream, I was wading in puddles of blood, hands kept reaching up and tried pulling me down, I would shake loose of their grasp, and continue walking. I could see Andrew waving me on telling me to hurry, and then scores of hands reached up and started to pull me down, I started drowning in blood and I screamed. With that I woke up, and woke up Andrew, I just started shaking, Andrew came over “Susan, what is it?” he asked tenderly.

“Oh, Andrew, I killed those men.” I sobbed.

“Oh, lassie it had to be done. It was either that or we would be both dead.” He moved closer to me and placed one arm around me wrapping both of us into the upper part of his Féileadh Má²r. I just turned my head into his chest and cried. “There, there lassie, it is ok, just go ahead and cry.”

Cry I did and eventually I must have fallen asleep because, that is the way I woke wrapped in his arms, head on his chest and surrounded by yards of tartan. I found it a bit strange, it didn’t bother me that a man was holding me. It just felt right. I looked at that sleeping man and wondered what was happening to me? Then one deep blue eye opened, “Feeling better, lassie?” he asked.

“Yes, Andrew I do. I am sorry for waking you last night.” As I pulled away from his arms, and stood up.

“No harm done, lassie, I should have realized that it would not be something you were used to. Are you ready to get moving again?” He then stood up, adjusted the material of his kilt, and re-pinned it at his shoulder. We drank our fill from the spring, took care of some personal needs, watered the horses, led them out of the depression, mounted and continued our journey southward.

Always on the lookout for military patrols, we continued southward for another two full days, we had nothing but water to drink and nothing to eat since what porridge we had, which seemed years ago. We avoided towns and villages, always moving only stopping for the night. On what I counted as the fifth night from when we left Pittodrie House. Andrew started talking about heading west in the morning. “We will have to be very careful now, lassie, as we will be passing near Fort William. There is a garrison there and there will be more patrols, we have been very lucky so far since our wee run in with the redcoats.”

“Where are we heading to now, Andrew?”

“In the morning we start heading to Ardsheal House. It looks out over Kentallen Bay. In order to avoid the patrols we are going to have to have to go up over the Grampians until till we pass Fort William, then down through Glen Coe to the coast. We have another four days yet.”

“Andrew, I am very hungry.”

“I know lassie, I am quite famished myself, I know a few crofters along the way, and we will find food there.” I could see the Grampian Mountains in the distance they seemed close, but I was sure it was a bit of an illusion, while they aren’t the highest of mountains; they are the highest on the British Isles. We gradually traveled in a southwesterly direction towards the mountains leaving the River Spey behind us. Andrew, I could see, was being very cautious, while we crossed open areas, straining to look for soldiers. By nightfall, we had reached the foothills of the Grampians and could relax slightly from looking for soldiers as we could easily hide in the wooded hillsides and small glens. Andrew led us into a small glen where there was a small cottage sitting, where light streamed through small windows, and smoke curled up into the night sky from the chimney.

As we got close to the cottage, Andrew motioned for me to stay where I was, as he got off his horse and walked up to the door. I could hear him call out something as he reached the door, as the door opened, pouring light out into the night a large man stood in the doorway, with a sword in his hand. I could tell that there was a conversation between them by the nodding of heads and gestures, but I couldn’t tell exactly what, all I could hear was laughter now and then. I saw Andrew motion me forward, I reached for the reins of his horse and rode forward. I got off Sidh and Andrew took the reins from me and tied the horses off where they could eat and drink. “Susan, I want you to meet an old friend of mine a fellow clansman. This Is Iain MacLeay.” “Iain, this is Lady Susan Gordon of Aberdeen.”

This giant of man, who reminded me of Robbie Coltrane, stepped forward “It’s a pleasure my lady.” Taking my hand that all of a sudden seemed quite small into a very large rough hand, he bowed quite gracefully.

“It is my pleasure, Sir Iain.” I replied

“I am not a Sir, my lady, only Sir here is Andrew, and welcome to my home, it isn’t much but it keeps me and my dogs warm.” With that, he led Andrew and me inside the little cottage. Iain’s cottage was warm and full of roughhewn furniture, a fire roared in the fireplace. What empty spaces that wasn’t taken up by furniture was taken up by dogs, I knew the breed; they would be known as Scottish Deerhounds in my time, long and lean like a greyhound but tall and covered by a wiry grey fur like an Irish Wolfhound.

Moving the dogs out of the way, he had us sitting a table with benches. Where the dogs just crowded around us like an audience, Iain went over to a cupboard, and pulled out what appeared to be a shank of cooked meat. Placing it on the platter that was on the table. “Andrew says you haven’t eaten in a while; help yourself.” Then he shoved a large knife into the meat. “I have some ale I made myself, somewhere in here.” Lifting up small barrels and giving them a shake. “Oh here it is” he pulled out a plug on the barrel, sloshed ale into tankards, and placed them and the little barrel on the table. “Go on eat, don’t wait for me, and if you don’t do it quick, the dogs will be after it.” He then sat a large earthenware jug on the table. “That’s for later.” He said with a large smile.

Andrew sliced off some of the meat and started, eating away, I had to pull the platter closer to me and did the same. I took a swallow of the offered ale, it was strong, and heavy with a definite sweetness to it, and gasped a bit. Iain looked over at me. “If you want I can head down to the burn and get some water for you, if that would be more to your pleasing; can’t say I have much use for it myself other than to make the ale.”

I just shook my head and bravely took another swallow. Between Andrew, Iain and I we stripped that shank bare. Iain pulled some bread out of the cupboard and set that on the table. I tore off some the bread and wolfed that down, as well. I was full, I ate more than I should have, but I had been hungry. Andrew gave me a look, grinned and said, “I must say lassie, for a Lady, you don’t eat like one.”

Iain pulled a cork out of the earthenware jug, and exclaimed, “Now, for the Uisge-beatha.” Checking to see if the tankards were empty, he poured a good measure into each. Raising his tankard, Iain said. “To new friends, and to old friends, and to the King that’s over the water.” Andrew and I followed suit “To the King that’s over the water.” We replied. I took a sip of the whiskey and felt the warmth spread down my throat and light a fire in my overly full stomach, realizing it was the finest malt whiskey I had ever tasted. I looked around the room, by this time the dogs had realized they weren’t getting anything and were sleeping all around the room. Andrew and Iain were having an animated conversation about something in the past. In the corner I saw a small harp made of wood and carved with Celtic knot work, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was doing here.

I must have been staring at it when Iain said. “Would you like some music lassie?”

“Do you play the harp, Iain?”

“Well not so much anymore, not since my wife died, fact is you’re the first woman in this house since then, but I can give it try.” He went over to the harp and brushed dust off it, picked it up, then sat on the bench with the base of the harp between his knees and upper back resting on his shoulder. He strummed it a few times, adjusted some tuning pegs and started plucking at the strings. The music was sad, slow and melodic, I watched Iain while he played and his eyes seemed to be focused on something far away as he played and I was amazed at such a large man could play so delicately. He then changed the tempo to something quick and lively and I found myself keeping time with my foot, then Andrew was tapping the table with his hand. Iain played for hours, and the ale and Uisge-Beatha flowed and for a while, the world seemed fine to me.

I awoke in the morning curled up in a corner near the fireplace; with four dogs that were doing their best imitations of pillows and blankets, and a head that was pounding. “You’re up, good, porridge will be ready soon.” Said Iain who it seemed was feeling no ill effects from last night. “Andrew is outside seeing to the horses, he wants you on your way shortly.” I just sat there on the floor amongst the dogs, nursing a very sore head. Suddenly I was wishing for coffee, something that I hadn’t missed until now. I heard things placed on the table and struggled to my feet.

Andrew came in from outside. “Oh our dancer is awake is she?” he said with this large grin. I just looked at him through half closed eyes. “You surprised me lassie, not many women, would be trying to match Iain drink for drink, even I won’t try and do that. Of course, you surprised us both with the dancing on the table.” Not even wanting to find out more, I just turned to the bowl of porridge that was set in front of me and ate. He continued to say as he sat at the table. “I do have to say Lassie, you have bonnie ankles.” Iain was grinning just as wide as Andrew was, and poured tea for us both.

After eating and the tea, my pounding head was now just an annoying throb. We said our goodbyes to Iain and I thanked him for his hospitality. “Think nothing of it, Lassie. It was good to hear the laughter of a woman under the roof again.” As Andrew and I rode off, I looked back at Iain standing outside his cottage surrounded by his dogs, not knowing the next time I saw him, it would be far from here and under much different circumstances.

We rode higher and higher into the mountains, and eventually it was too steep to ride; we continued up the mountains circumventing the steeper areas and eventually by sunset had reached the uppermost elevation of our route. Andrew pointed out Glen Coe and we started downward. We stopped and made a cold camp when it became too dark to descend safely. Huddled in my woolen cape, out of the wind, I struggled for sleep.

By early afternoon, we had made our descent and traveled the glens of the foothills. Nightfall found us at the eastern opening of Glen Coe, and in the cottage of Seamus and Maggie MacIain. Seamus was a relative of Alastair MacIain, who had been murdered during the infamous Massacre of Glencoe some 50 years prior. A staunch Jacobite and he made no qualms about letting you know that fact. Maggie was a warm and friendly woman who seemed rather excited that another woman was in the house, and kept me close the whole night going on about things I should have probably known but didn’t, while the men drank and talked.

We left the MacIain’s in the early hours of the morning following the River Coe as it made its way through the wide glen. By nightfall, we had reached the western end of the glen, and in the house of a clansman of Seamus MacIain. “Well Lassie, we should be at Ardsheal by tomorrow, night.” Andrew said when we had a minute to ourselves. “I have to tell you, something you probably don’t wish to hear. I heard this from Seamus and I was trying to find the right moment to tell you, but it appears there isn’t going to be a good time. It seems a price has been put on your head, for killing those soldiers; seems some geordie gave your description to the army when they came looking for their patrol. Seems that if we are captured, we will both hang together, as I am wanted for murder too, as well as treason. When we get to Ardsheal I will see if Charles can find us passage to France, we won’t be safe in Scotland for some time.”

I didn’t sleep well that night after the news Andrew gave me. As I lay in bed, I kept wondering about everything that has happened. I was sent back in time to 18th century Scotland sometime before the 1745 rebellion, for some reason by persons unknown called the Old Ones, in the body of a young noble woman. I can’t find out why until the full moon, and I have to find a ring of standing stones in order to do that. I have killed British soldiers, and now have a price on my head for doing that, and find I am going to have to flee to France now in order to save my life. I was beginning to think Alice falling down that rabbit hole didn’t have anything on me. To top it all off I am finding myself being attracted to Andrew, and that scared me the most of all.

After a sleepless night, that next morning found me back on Sidh heading south along the western coast of Scotland. We stayed off the road in order to avoid any military patrols, as from what I gathered from Andrew, this area was patrolled heavily due to the coastline, and proximity of Fort William. As we made our way through the coastal forests and in the middle of a glen, we came upon a large solid rock formation that arose out of the middle of the glen to a height that was slightly higher the hills on either side of the glen. I could see a well-worn path that made its way to the top of it. “What is this place Andrew?” I asked.

“Cnoc an Tursachan Dubh Hill of the Dark Stone Circle is the old name but the villagers call it Cnoc an Buidseach Witch’s Hill because mysterious things have happened there. The last woman they found around here had gone utterly mad, dressed in strange clothes and speaking in a tongue that no one knew. She was burned at the stake for being a witch; I was just a wee lad when that happened. You can see the top of it from either of the hills that form the glen, I have seen the top, and it has large standing stones, some of which are put together to look like arches or doorways. Best stay away from it lassie, I don’t need you being burned at the stake.”

He navigated us around the rock hill and up to the top of one of the glens hills. “If you look back you can see the top.” I turned to look and was surprised; it had all the appearance of Stonehenge, just smaller. “We aren’t too far from Ardsheal, let’s keep moving, lassie.” I looked back again at the standing stones, and realized I had found a place to speak to the Old Ones, providing doing so wouldn’t get me branded as a witch.

We made our way down the hill and right to the coast, we travelled along the rocky shore, until we could see a small village, and beyond that in the distance a large tower house. Andrew pulled up and stopped. “We will wait for nightfall, before going further. That village is Kentallen, and the tower you see beyond that is Ardsheal House.” I dismounted and walked over to the shoreline and watched the small waves lap the shore I could see Islands in the distance, knowing them to be the Hebrides. I felt alone, and scared, not knowing why I was here. Now the fear of knowing if I weren’t careful, I could be hung as a murderer, weighed on me. I heard Andrew come up behind me. “Beautiful, isn’t it.” He asked.

“Yes, it is, Andrew” I stood there watching the sun setting behind the Hebrides lighting up the sky and water with the color of molten gold, I felt a hand placed on my shoulder, and felt myself turned around. “Susan, if I don’t do this now, I will never get the courage to do so.” With those words, Andrew pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and I allowed myself to surrender to the embrace and the kiss and returned both with equal passion.

My apologies to the gaelic speakers if I got the context wrong on when naming the hill which in case you are wondering doesn't exist. Uisge-beatha translates to "water of life" it is also where we get the word whisky from.
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“Yes, it is, Andrew” I stood there watching the sun setting behind the western hills lighting up the sky and water with the color of molten gold, I felt a hand placed on my shoulder, and felt myself turned around. “Susan, if I don’t do this now, I will never get the courage to do so.” With those words, Andrew pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and I allowed myself to surrender to the embrace and the kiss and returned both with equal passion. ……And now back to the story

I was shocked at what I was doing, I shouldn’t be feeling what I was, and the desire for this man was overwhelming. I struggled with my emotions trying to gain some control. Finally I broke off the kiss, pulling myself away from Andrew’s embrace feeling ashamed of what had happened.

“I am sorry Andrew. This is so sudden. Please forgive me I did not know you had such feelings for me.” I quickly said.

“Nay Lassie, it was me I took advantage of you and I shouldn’t have.” He replied. I could tell by looking at him it wasn’t exactly the truth, he appeared hurt and confused about the situation. “We should be going to Ardsheal while it getting dark so we can get through the town without being noticed.” He quickly added.

We made our way down to Kentallen and wove our way through the village avoiding the main road as much as possible; it was a quaint village, obviously the village made its living from the sea, as the smell of fish lingered in the air. I allowed myself to be lost in thought as I followed Andrew through the village, the turmoil of my emotions was still with me, and left me wondering where this journey was headed and the sooner I found answers and returned to my own time the better. The response to Andrew’s kiss had me worried as I wasn’t truly comfortable with the idea of what it could lead to.

Before I could gain any ground against my quandary, I found myself looking at a massive tower house looming over us. It appeared old, constructed of blocks of a black rock, some five or six stories or more in height, a smattering of slits or windows breaking up the stone façade. With a gable styled roof surrounded by a wall with a few chimneys capping it. While looking up I caught a glimpse of a waning crescent moon. I roughly calculated that I had perhaps three or 4 weeks before the next full moon and the answers for so many questions.

Andrew dismounted handed me the reins of his horse, and made his way up a small flight of stairs to a large wooden door surrounded by a rough stone arch, and hammered at the door. The door was opened and dim light spilled out from it. I could see Andrew talking to a slight figure, gesturing to me and the horses, whoever he had been talking disappeared from the doorway He motioned me to dismount and suddenly two young boys rushed out of the tower leading the horses away.

Upon entering we were in a narrow corridor which led to a fairly large dimly lit room that appeared to have a few other openings leading elsewhere, and a large well in the middle of the room. We were handed a lantern for light and Andrew proceeded to lead me up a narrow stone stairway to the next floor of the tower which was another large room dominated by a large fireplace on one wall in which a large fire was burning and provided the most light and sconces with candles where scattered throughout the room providing more, still the room had areas of shadow and was furnished with mainly beds which a few where occupied and few other odd pieces of furniture.

We continued up the narrow staircase to the next floor which again was dominated by a large fireplace although this one had a twin on the opposite wall with both fireplaces lit, the room was fairly bright and again this light was aided by sconces along the walls a large table sat in the middle of the room with a few chairs around it I could see there were three men sitting around the table a decanter and goblets scattered around the table.

Andrew spoke quickly. “Cousin it is I Andrew.” One of the men answered. “Andrew? Why in the Lord’s name would you come here?” then got up from the table and approached us.
He was a large man built like Andrew. Tall broad shouldered, dark hair appeared to be in his early 30’s and like Andrew handsome. I really needed to figure out why I would think that, obviously, this mind and body I now inhabited definitely had ideas of its own despite what I wanted.

“I have many reasons cousin.” Andrew replied. “One I bring news from France, and amongst other reasons I and my companion must lay low for a while if possible.”

Andrew’s cousin drew closer. “News from France is it?” He asked. “And judging by your companion, have you gotten her and yourself in to bit a trouble?” I bristled at what he obviously was suggesting, and was finding it very hard not to say a word; I hoped Andrew would come to our defense on that insinuation, without me saying a thing.

“No cousin, it isn’t anything like that, and you should be ashamed of thinking that about the Lady Gordon!” Andrew exclaimed. “In fact she saved my life, and in doing so has placed her own in jeopardy. I will concede the fact it is because of me she ended up in this situation, but it is far from the sordid idea you have! Now if you wish to continue this, I hope we can do so as family and I wish for you apologize to Lady Gordon for your poor assumption of our situation.”

Andrew’s cousin turned, looked at me and said. “Lady Gordon, please accept my most humble of apologies I have obviously have made a poor judgement of the situation."

From what I could tell the man seemed to be truly apologetic, and maybe there is something about Andrew I needed to learn, for him to come to such a conclusion. To keep things peaceful, I replied. “I accept your apology Sir Stewart. This strange set of circumstances has created a simple misunderstanding.” I hoped that would suffice.

He simply nodded in my direction. Then led us both into the hall, and then pulled an additional chair that was arranged against the wall to the table and motioned for us to sit. “Introductions are in order, as you have probably surmised I am Andrew’s cousin Charles Stewart head of the Stewarts of Ardsheal and tacksman to Dugald Stewart Chief of Clan Appin, the other gentlemen here are my subalterns and my brothers Iain (John).” Another tall dark haired, clean shaven man stood from the table and nodded in my direction, “and Ailean (Alan).” The third man stood, he too was tall and dark but I could see his face was scarred by pox marks giving him an almost spotted appearance, not that that hindered the apparent handsomeness that seemed to run in the Appin men if anything it made him unique amongst his brothers.

I attempted what I hoped was an acceptable curtsey, and managed so without falling on my face and said “Good Sirs, I am Susan Gordon of Aberdeen. It is a pleasure to meet you gentlemen.” Then sat in the nearest chair figuring it Andrew’s place to explain why we were here. Andrew’s cousins sat down in their chairs while Andrew remained standing.

Charles immediately asked. “Andrew, you said there was news from France, but why you? The last we heard you had taken a commission in one of Louis’ Scottish regiments, and your father Seamus (James) what of him?”

Andrew seemed hesitant to respond, but said. “Father contracted an illness while we were on campaign for Louis at Dettingen in ’43. I got leave to escort him back to Paris and would rejoin the regiment there as we were due for rotation to guard Versailles. Alas, Father died on the way home, and as you know Mother died the year previously. As there was not much more for me to do, I arranged his burial next to Mother, sold off our rooms and their property I did not wish to keep and waited for my regiment to return to Versailles.” He answered then continued. “While waiting there I became acquainted with William Murray the Marquis of Tullabardine. When he found out I was of the Stewarts of Appin, he informed me that our cousin King James had named our cousin Charles the Prince Regent, for Louis had formed an army at Dunkirk for him to invade England in January of this year.”

Andrew reached for a goblet and decanter that was on the table and poured a drink of something, took a sip and continued. “So upon hearing this I resigned my commission and offered myself into service of the Prince, and made my way to Dunkirk. It was for naught though; a severe storm developed and destroyed the ships that were to take us across so we returned to Paris.”

“Pardon me Sir Charles would it be an imposition for a spot of tea?” I asked not wanting to get involved with uisge beatha that was available and a repeat of the last time I drank some.

“My apologies Lady Gordon, it is seldom that we have a lady’s company at this hour.” He got up and made his way to the staircase we came up and shouted down the stairwell “Jean some tea!” and returned to his seat.

“So Andrew, Louis has decided to help the King then?” He asked

“Not really cousin not as I see it at least.” Andrew replied. “I think Louis is looking for a diversion aimed at focusing England elsewhere. Truthfully one French victory in this war they have going and Louis will forget all about the Stuarts. This Louis does not bear much love towards them, unlike his father.”

At this a young woman appeared at the top of the stairs, who I assumed was Jean, with a tray a small pot and a tea cup. She placed the tray on the table and then retreated back down the stairwell. I reached over and poured a small amount of tea into the cup taking a small sip of the warm drink.

“I see.” Said Charles “So how is it that you are here now Andrew?” He asked.

Andrew took another swallow of his whisky and continued his story. “Upon returning to Paris I settled in with most of the Stuart supporters at Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye which sits outside Paris. Having resigned my commission I had little choice other than to find myself in company with William Murray and others. As the King was in residence in Rome, we had little to do. The Prince came and went followed about by his tutor Sheridan and other sycophants, often returning to Rome to his father.”

Taking another swallow he continued. “Our little band of supporters with not much else to do, decided we should plan to try and make any attempt if another should arise successful. We began to reach out to those in Louis’ service but many declined citing the ’15 and the ‘19 as failures saying this one would be no different. While I could agree with their sentiments, I still saw a glimmer of possible success. So we came to the conclusion someone would have to return to Scotland and eventually England to find support for the cause. I volunteered as I yearned to come home.”

I was so enraptured by Andrew’s story, my tea had grown cold I didn’t bother refilling my cup as I was sure what was in the pot was also cold by now. I stifled a yawn, and was starting to feel tired and the heat from the fireplaces was making me quite sleepy. I was bound and determined that I would last this out as long as it took. Stifled another yawn and tried to look attentive.

Andrew continued his story. “I was given a purse of 2oo Louis d’or by Lord Murray for expenses, it seemed an excessive amount and I protested his generosity, he justified it by saying I probably would need it all should trouble arise. So I made my way to Nantes, and found a ship bound for Dundee with a cargo of salt, and booked passage saying I was a Scottish student returning to St. Andrew’s to continue my studies, having found the continent rather tedious.”

Looking into his goblet as if pondering the merit of pouring more into it he continued. “The voyage went unhindered for the most part we did see an English frigate on the horizon once, but it seemed to ignore us. The winds were favorable and the ship anchored off Dundee awaiting the tide to turn within four days. That night a small boat approached us calling up to the ship a line was tossed over the side and soon an older man appeared climbing over the bulwark and made his way to the captain. It seemed I had booked passage on vessel that was involved in smuggling as well as legitimate cargo.”

“What was exchanged I have no idea, it was obviously small and easily concealed, as the man made his way back to his boat he spotted me and bluntly asked if I wanted to avoid entanglements in Dundee, stating soldiers seemed to be taking an interest into those arriving by ship and if so come with him. I took up his offer and gathered my few meager things and climbed over the side and down into his boat his man rowed us ashore a few miles south of Dundee.”

“He welcomed me into his house, which was just above the shore, shared a dram, and upon finding out he was a supporter, gave him the news and asked him to spread the word carefully. He in turn warned me of the increased activity of soldiers on the main roads and ports and to be on guard as it appeared they were looking for someone. He then offered me a horse that he would sell to speed me on my way.”

The empty goblet obviously didn’t appeal to him and he poured more of the whisky into the goblet, and took a swallow. He seemed to mull over his thoughts and continued. “I then made my way up the coast, avoiding most towns avoiding the roads by crossing fields and traveling through woods stopping by known supporters suggested by Murray and the others of our little band. Giving them, letters of introduction and availing myself of their hospitality. I eventually found myself with the Erskines of Pittodrie. While there became acquainted with Lady Gordon.”

By this time I had nodded off a couple of times, awaking with a start each time hopefully no one noticed, if they did they were at least polite about it. Andrew continued on about our journey to Ardsheal including our run it with soldiers and made a big production about me saving him with a well-placed pistol shot, and his concern that it might put my head in a noose. I was just to sleepy to care about following the conversation.

Charles announced “Well cousin an interesting story indeed. However it is getting late and we will decide what to do on the morrow. Andrew you can share Iain’s room as it has an extra bed. Lady Gordon can have the guest room.”

He went over to the stairwell called for the young woman Jean. When she appeared he spoke at some length to her and then motioned to me saying. “Follow Jean she will take you to your room. Sleep well Lady Gordon.” Then seemed to dismiss me from anything further.
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Our little gathering dispersed from the hall. Jean led me across the hall to another stairwell on the right that went up while the men went to the stairwell we came up and followed it upwards. Jean led me up the narrow stairwell into a narrow hallway, which lead to wooden door which opened to a medium sized room consisting of small bed and chest, with a small table with a candle on it and a chair, a lit fireplace finished off the room, which she stoked then taking a small piece of kindling from near the fireplace lit the candle then left closing the door behind her. I just removed my cloak fell into the bed which smelled like fresh straw and into a deep sleep.

Charles Stewart of Ardsheal was a real person and was a true Jacobite, Ailean (Alan) Stewart was too and would be immortalized in literature by Robert Louis Stevenson and Sir Walter Scott as Alan Breck Stewart. Breck is actually anglicized from the Gaelic word Breac which means “spotted” as it seems his face bore scars from a bout of smallpox. So I am unsure if he was as handsome as Michael Caine, David McCallum, or Armand Assante who all played him in film or on TV. Ailean and Charles were both in fosterage (traditional Scottish highland way to strengthen clan ties) to the same man James of the Glen whether they were actually blood kin I don’t know. I made them so just so I could put him in my story.

The morning arrived too early for my liking, and I could hear that people were up and going about their business as sound just seemed to echo throughout stone structure of Ardsheal. I was cold and I seemed to have covered myself with my cloak sometime during the night it did little to keep me warm. Glancing at the fireplace there were embers with a slight glow to them. I placed some wood that from the pile next to the fireplace and stoked it with the fire iron and soon brought some warmth back to room.

There was a soft knock at the door and then a woman I would guess at maybe mid 20’s entered. “Oh good, you are awake” she said. “I am Isabel Stewart, Charles’ wife. I was told by Andrew this morning that you arrived with just the clothes on your back. So I brought a few things I had from when I was younger and hopefully would fit, if not we can call up a seamstress from the village and have a few things made.”

“Lady Stewart you are being far more than kind, to treat me a complete stranger so.” I replied.

“Nonsense.” She said. “You are to call me Isabel, no titles are necessary you are a friend of Andrew’s so that almost makes you family.”

“Then you must call me Susan.” I replied

“Now I will leave you to change, and meet us in the hall which is just down the stair.” She said handing me a bundle of clothes, and then she hurried out the door closing it behind her.

I set the bundle down on the bed, started to sort through it, and try and figure out what I had and how to wear it, and do so quickly. Several pairs of woolen hose, “Well those are easy to figure out.” I said to myself. Two things that seem to be made of linen looked like nightgowns, then two things one was sort of beige color and the other was sort of greenish brown, they seemed to resemble corsets but not as stiff, I remembered how Moira at Pittodrie squeezed me into that corset and shuddered at thought of having to do that again. Then something that resembled two small sacks attached to a linen cord, I wondered what they were used for. Then four skirts or at least that is what they looked like two were of linen and lined with wool dyed a shade of blue the other a pale yellow the others were just linen or perhaps cotton
and were white. Then two dresses or at least again that was their appearance except that weren’t exactly they appeared to be a more like a long open robes there was a section that was slightly ornate pinned to each.

I cursed myself for not paying attention when Moira helped me dress in my rush to flee Pittodrie. In the past week to get here I have traveled and slept in what I had on without need to figure things out. I started to curse whomever or whatever had brought me here and stuck me in this form at least they could have supplied care and feeding instructions. I started picturing myself waking up in that circle of stones trying to manage hundreds of printed pages on the subject of being female and started to laugh at the absurdity of that. I laughed so hard I started to cry, then after a few sniffles I wiped my tears and decided to get on with what I had to do.

I had a jacket on so it seemed that would be the place to start and started to unbutton it there weren’t buttonholes just a loop of thread so the jacket came off easily. Next thing I guess would be the dress thing as it was the layer under the jacket I untied the laces then loosened them, and discovered that part of the dress behind the laces wasn’t attached so I removed that then struggled to try and get out of it. Just then there was a slight knock at the door. Still in the middle of trying to get undressed I said. “Come in.”

The door opened and there was a red haired young woman with a bowl and pitcher. “I am Seonaid (Jane) and Lady Stewart has assigned me to be your maid while you are here.” She said. “I brought a bowl and some water and drying cloths, should you wish to freshen up.” And then she placed the bowl and pitcher on the small table. Then proceeded to gather up the dress I was struggling to get out of from the hem and pulled it over my head, and then quickly proceeded to remove everything else until all that was left were the nightgown thing hose and shoes.
“Will you be changing your chemise and hose my lady?” She asked. “I suppose I should it has been some time since I have.” I answered. “Then I will wait outside for you to change your chemise before dressing you.” She replied and walked out of the room closing the door behind her.

Figuring I must get to it I pulled of the chemise and got a look at myself, well as much as I could, since there wasn’t a mirror. My complexion was almost what I would describe as creamy white and with no apparent blemishes, my breasts appeared large but then that could just be from my viewpoint, overall my body was slender including my arms and legs, although at the moment my legs were covered by woolen hose that reached about mid-thigh which were held in place by a silken ribbon. I pulled on a chemise from the bed, sat on the chair and pulled the hem of the chemise up bent over, unbuckled my shoes took those off, then untied the ribbon and removed the hose. Pulled on the blue hose and tied the ribbon around my legs just above the knee where they had been tied before.

I called to Seonaid and she came back in. Then she proceeded put the corset thing on me and asked. “How tight do you want your stays?” I replied “Not very tight as I am not sure what I will be doing today.” I replied. She then proceeded to pull the ribbons from behind me and seemed to tighten them from the bottom to the top and while it felt constricting it was far from unbearable. She handed me one the lighter skirt things and I guess I was to pull it on I stepped into it pulled it up and she tied it off at my waist.

She then rummaged through the pile of clothes until finding something that resembled a large cloth sausage and tied that around my waist followed by the cloth sack things which were also tied off at the waist.

She then took the heavier blue skirt pulled it over my head and tied it off at the waist in the front and at the back which left slits at the sides. Which I found out allowed me access to the little sacks tied around my waist creating pockets, she then pinned the ornate piece to my stays, then helped me into the dress which she pinned to the ornate piece. I stepped into my shoes and attempted to bend over to buckle them and found out I couldn’t bend that far due to the stays and so had to depend on her to buckle them and I made myself to be aware of that in the future.

“I will make sure your things are cleaned, and I will tidy up your room my lady.” Seonaid said.
“Thank you, but please do not go to much bother as you have been so helpful this morning.” I replied. She gave me a strange look as if I had made some major faux pas. “My Lady we forgot you kerchief.” Handing me the silken scarf I had been wearing before. I just wore it has I had before placing it around my neck and tucked the two long ends beneath my stays and adjusted it so my décolletage was covered. Left the room and proceeded to the great hall.

When I arrived everyone was seated around the table. Charles at the head and Isabel opposite him to his right was Ailean, next to him was Iain. Andrew was to his left next to Andrew was a young boy of about ten years old. I took the empty seat next to the young lad. Everyone seemed to be eating bowls of porridge while the table had bannocks, oat cakes, butter and honey. I helped myself to a bannock wedge with butter, it was rather course not at all like I remember my mother making but it was filling after having another piece. I was given some tea. There was little to no conversation at the table until everyone seemed to have their fill.

Once everyone had eaten and the table cleared. Charles began to speak. “Cousin, while you and Mistress Gordon are welcome, I think given the circumstances it would be best if you return to France. This will take some time to arrange. Now Ailean has informed me he has decided to seek a commission with the government and will be travelling to Fort William tomorrow.”

Ailean spoke next “It weighs heavy on me to don the uniform of the government, I think it best though, as I help the clan by keeping them informed of what I learn, and it helps you as well Andrew for I can also find out if they are actively searching for you and the Lady Gordon.”

Charles began to speak again “I won’t restrict you to Ardsheal, as I know Andrew you have a mission to accomplish, but I warn you to keep your movements to a minimum, as we don’t need the government paying attention to us, especially if what you have said comes to pass. If too much attention does come to pass Andrew, I will have to ask you to hide out in the cave until transportation to France arrives.”

He looked at me and continued. “Mistress Gordon, in order to explain your presence to the servants, and to others we are going to say you are Isabel’s spinster cousin, left homeless due to the death of your parents and an unloving brother. You were brought here by Andrew at our request, in order to for us to take you in and find you a husband.” Isabel spoke next. “I know being thought of as a spinster might be a bit vexing for you, but it will allow you some latitude in your movements. And perhaps we can come up with an idea to explain your spinsterhood as you are far too pretty to be unwed.”

As decisions had been made and roles to be played, I soon found myself thrusted into daily life at Ardsheal, for the most part I spent most of my time at Isabel’s side learning how to manage a large household; I got to know most of the servants by sight and became rather friendly with most. Andrew came and went as he pleased disappearing for a day or two, being very secretive about his coming and goings. We did learn by letter from Ailean, that indeed Andrew was being sought, although it appears I am not suspect in anything, our run in with the soldiers seems to have fallen on Andrew.

In my free time, I found myself roaming the grounds of Ardsheal and often found myself walking along the shore of Loch Linnhe.I soon took to riding Sidhe, learning I enjoyed the experience of horseback riding, although it met with much disdain as it wasn’t considered becoming of a lady. Which I decided was going to be the reason I was a “spinster” was having too much interest in manly things and being quite independent and I also thought personally it might cover any mistakes I might make. The idea seemed to delight Isabel for some reason. Soon the gossip amongst the servants was Lady Stewart’s cousin would never marry if she didn’t learn to be a lady.

So it became routine to follow Isabel around, I even started playing chess with Duncan, Charles and Isabel’s child and every bit his father’s son, although he wasn’t very pleased that a woman could win chess matches so easily but I give him credit he was gracious about it, while I thanked Bobby Fischer for writing a book that taught me how to play. My horseback rides became more frequent in the afternoon and would often be found riding until sunset. I was content. Well until about the start third week. The moon had started its final waxing phase and I was becoming quite apprehensive of my journey back to Cnoc an Tursachan Dubh.

I was also becoming irritated at the smallest of things, and could not put any cause to it. Poor Andrew drew most of my ire the following day, a simple observation of his caused me to be quite angry at him, with me complaining how he could come and go as he pleased and I was stuck at Ardsheal, it wasn’t the truth but I for some reason felt that way. Isabel for the most part was mostly sympathetic, as if she knew something I didn’t. When I went to my room that night. I found a small pile of linen cloths and wool on my bed. Seonaid helped me get undressed; I crawled into bed feeling miserable.

The following morning, I found out what was the cause was. I woke unusually early with a sticky feeling between my legs and found my chemise and my sheets stained with blood. While I rationally knew why, it wasn’t something I expecting or used too. I needed to figure out what to do. I got up stoked the fire for warmth, and removed my chemise. Poured some water in the bowl on the table and proceeded to wash my face under my arms and under my breasts and finally my vagina removing some of the blood.

I remembered the pile of cloth and wool. Now every child from the mid 2oth to the 21st century knew what tampons and sanitary napkins were for just from advertising alone, and I was no different. Figuring tampons couldn’t be made from what I had; I wrapped some wool in the middle of piece of the cloth then figured out three pieces of cloth would do as a belt I tied my “napkin” to my makeshift belt and felt rather proud of myself for being so ingenious and handing the situation logically. I reached into the chest pulled out hose, a clean chemise and what I wanted to wear. Dressed in what could by myself and waited for Seonaid.

I won’t go into great detail about the days that followed only to say it was a very uncomfortable and somewhat messy experience. I took it upon myself to work with the servants much to their surprise, to learn how to clean my linens which consisted of boiling, scrubbing and beating them to death. The bed sheets and chemises if they made it through the torture were ironed, if not they became rags for other uses including menstruation.

Having spent a miserable five days with my introduction to womanhood I returned to my normal routine. Isobel just acted as if things were normal, Andrew when I eventually saw him acted as if I was this fragile thing that needed to be handled gently. I apologized for my outburst, and left it as that without explanation. Just leaving him with the knowledge I didn’t need to be coddled.

I resumed my horseback riding enjoying the thrill and Sidhe seemed to be happy of being ridden again. As the week drew to a close, I looked to the night sky and realized I had maybe a day, then my reason for being put into this life would be revealed, and I was scared of the answer.
Andrew had left on one of his many secretive trips that morning. I spent my morning with my normal routine. When the afternoon came I was heading north through Kentallen on my way to Cnoc an Tursachan Dubh.

The full moon was nearly at its apex in the night sky as I made my way into the valley. Sidhe was patient with me as I steered him towards the hill that was in the middle of it. The top was shrouded in a thick impenetrable mist, and yet appeared that it had an unearthly glow as well. I searched for a way to the top and almost missed a concealed path that obviously led to the top.

I dismounted, and led Sidhe slowly up the path. About half way we encountered the mist and the way down was soon obscured from sight yet despite the thick mist I could clearly see the path before me. As we neared the top I heard the same voices as I had before, it sounded like hundreds of voices speaking at the same time. Sidhe became quite hesitant and quite skittish to go further I moved my hand to his bridle and comforted him speaking to him gently and we soon found ourselves at the top
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The stones at the top formed a complete circle at the top, encompassing it entirely. While large and impressive they weren’t as massive as I remember Stonehenge being, but they appeared far older. Looking out past the stones I couldn’t see the surrounding hills or the valley floor, it looked like I was on an island sitting in an endless sea of mist. Entering the circle I released Sidhe’s bridle and he simply started to graze.The voices were louder now but it was almost like I was in a crowded room and everyone was speaking. I was more curious than afraid, but was worried that I had gotten myself into something I wasn’t capable of handling.

Suddenly the voices stopped, it was almost like I had interrupted a meeting that I wasn’t supposed to be at and wasn’t supposed to hear. Then in the center circle a glowing object appeared and slowly formed a human shape. It moved towards me and as it got closer. I could see a woman, words cannot express her ageless beauty, she was tall with long blonde hair eyes that were as blue as the sky and held wisdom far beyond mere mortals like myself. She was soon standing right in front of me. I was enraptured by this beautiful creature I would have done anything she asked, and that scared me. She reached out and touched my forehead with a finger and spoke.

“My child, do not be afraid you came because you have questions, and I along with others have the answers. Before we give answers to your questions let me tell you who and what I am. I am called Danu of the Aos-sidhe here, but I have been called by many names by you mortals in many places.”

“Aos-sidhe, the Faery folk?” I gasped. She gave me a motherly smile, as if I were a child that just discovered I could walk. “Yes my child here we are known as Faery, in other places we are gods and goddesses.” her form shifted and became a tall woman with dark hair and dark eyes dressed in flowing white robe. “In this form I am known as Hera by some or Juno by others, her form shifted again and became a slender woman with dusky colored skin. “In this one I am known by Isis in the ancient land of Khem” Her form shifted again and reverted to the unearthly beautiful blonde.

“We have many names and many forms and are responsible for many things, which is why we brought you to this time and in your present form.” She continued. “I can see you wonder why we chose you. We needed someone who would have much to lose if what we fear will come to pass.” She paused as if listening to someone. “While we have much more power than you mortals, we can only influence outcomes that would that are more beneficial to you; we try and sometimes that influence fails. However, we cannot act directly to change things. For that we need an agent.”

I was at a loss; I couldn’t even begin to come up a coherent thought about anything. I was just so overwhelmed by everything. Danu just smiled and placed her hand to my cheek. I felt so much love and concern radiating from that touch “Don’t worry child. I know that things are confusing and you have been told much you have trouble comprehending it. So I am going to explain and show you why you were brought here.” She took my hand. “Come with me.” She led me over to the center of the stone circle.

“In the not too distant future of your former self, you mortals will accomplish much through your science you will find solutions to things that even that we Fae have no control over. You mortals will discover cures for diseases that plague your kind. You will travel to the stars and discover others amongst them. However, one mortal from that distant future will discover how to view time, and even though we tried to influence that future discovery for strictly observation of it. We failed to do so, and he learned to travel through it.”

She paused again, as if she was having a conservation I couldn’t hear. She then continued. “He however did not give much thought of how his presence in the past would affect time. He assumed as an observer it would have little effect upon things, and mostly his observations had none. However, not all did. In the immediate future there will be a conflict upon this land, one you are very aware of but, you are unaware of the consequences should it not proceed as it should. We have brought you to this time before his arrival in order to stop his affect upon events.

In the near future he will arrive in the city of Paris in the land you call France while there he will meet a young mortal whom he will unintentionally due to an simple observation of events that are taking place; influence him to seek enlistment into the army of France. This young man will serve honorably and at a future battle in that year at Fontenoy he will kill the British general in command known as the Duke of Cumberland, with a musket shot. This Duke of Cumberland affects much, upon the coming conflict so his death must be nullified.”

She waved her hand in a sweeping gesture and said “Let me show you the consequences.”

And before us appeared images of a town “This is the town of Derby in England, and is farthest that the future conflict will get, if things go the way we want. However, because of the death of the Duke of Cumberland his additional army will not arrive from Fontenoy. The government forces are too far spread out, the chain of command is not unified. With this news the Stuart Prince will convince his generals to continue. He will win a few small battles, despite the condition of his forces. These victories will convince France to land an army to support the Stuart Prince. With this bolstering of his forces, the Stuart Prince will march into London to great fanfare by some and of some great concern to others.”

She waved her hand again. “Now we advance about 10 years France and Great Britain with James on the throne even after having converted to Anglicism to secure his throne, they are on good terms despite religious differences. War erupts in Europe again, between the counties of Prussia and Austria. France declares for Austria and with no Hanoverian on the throne, Great Britain does not declare for Prussia and stays out of the conflict by doing so there is no war in North America between France and Great Britain.

She waived her hand again. “Now we go forward a little further it is the year 1776. Charles Stuart has been king for 10 years, and since they did not get involved in the war there was no need for tax increases although there is some anger over the lack representation in their Parliament. Things in the North American continent are rather calm. Charles himself is just about to step off a British man o’ war in New York and become the first European monarch to visit the Americas. This simple visit will endear him to many American colonialists.”

She waved her hand and the images disappeared. “With no War of Independence, your country will not exist as it does now in your memory. Many technological advances will be slower because your country did not happen. See my child; this is only one possible outcome of many possible ones. But one constant is the America that you call home will not exist as it does now in your memory, in some outcomes it comes close but it never achieves what it will if we don’t stop what will happen. Because there will come a time that the mortals of this world will need to leave and some of the advances your country will develop won’t happen when they should. They won’t be able to leave if we allow this change. This is what you will lose and why we chose you.”

“I understand why am chosen, but why make me female to do this?” I asked.

She gave another motherly smile as if I was being a petulant child. “Do not let this form disturb you, in this time women are not given much thought, and can freely move about men mostly unnoticed unless they wish to draw attention to themselves. Most men in this time are also unaware that woman are capable of doing many of the same things they do. So a woman’s form was chosen to allow you move freely without expectations and yet be able to do what is needed. It was not intended to be a punishment. I can be either male or female as the need arises and yet I choose the female form as it is most pleasing of the two. In time I think you might find it so too.”

“I think I understand and hopefully I will succeed. What is it that I am required to do?” I sighed.

“As we cannot act directly the act falls to you. The traveler must be killed or incapacitated before he speaks to the young man, killing him will not affect the current time nor will it affect the future. The choice is yours. The young man will live an honorable life as a merchant and eventually will have a descendent that will affect the history of France so he cannot be harmed. So your act must come to fruition before their meeting. Now your questions have been answered it is time for you to go. But we have gifts to give you in order for you to succeed.” She took my hand lead me back to Sidhe.

She touched me on the forehead again saying “I Danu give you the knowledge of the nature of women, you will be able move and act as a woman you will know what you should know as a woman, without the fear of your true self giving you away.”

She stepped aside, and a man with bright reddish hair and beard appeared and touched me on the forehead. “I am Ogma, I give you gifts of eloquence and music, you will be able speak the tongue of the Franks and of the Gael. It will be as if you were born to speak them.” I also give you song, your voice will sooth the listener and could inspire many things depending on the song. Lastly I give the gift of the Clarsach (harp) you will be able play it and your pool of music and song will be vast, your music will bring joy it could also bring sorrow, it also can bring memories depending on what you play. Use these gifts wisely child. He just vanished.

Then another appeared before me another man, who was tall blonde hair, and just radiated love. He touched my forehead and said “I am Aonghus, god of love. I give you the gift of charm. No man or woman will deny you; all you have to do is ask. This is a dangerous gift use it carefully.” He too vanished.

Then a young woman appeared but she walked over to Sidhe. “I am Epona I give your horse the ability to always be able to find you should you be in danger, and he will always get you home. Then she hugged Sidhe. She smiled at me. “He has an appropriate name as he truly is now Fae.” Then she too vanished.

Then another man appeared clothed completely in chain mail and armed with many weapons. He touched my forehead and said. “I am Lugh the warrior. I give you the skills of a warrior, you will know the art of the blade, the pistol and dirk you will be better than any that oppose you. You will need weapons that match your skills. They will be given when the time is near.” Then he too vanished.

Then another woman appeared and touched my forehead. “I am Morrigan. I give you a gift of seeing. When the time is near, you will sense it. As the time grows closer you will be drawn to where. When the time is right you will see the traveler. Then she vanished.

Then an extremely large figure appeared and in a large jovial voice spoke “I am Dagda father of the Aos-Sidhe. We seldom ask mortals to do what we cannot and allow you mortals to learn from your mistakes. This mistake cannot go uncorrected as much is dependent on the outcome. So for your aid, I give you this purse it will always have the amount of coin you need in any situation. Then handed me a small silken bag embroidered with Celtic knots and swirls and then vanished
.
Danu approached me again saying. “So gifts have been given, questions asked and answered. We shall not see each other until these events that will happen are finished and we are certain that events will proceed as they are meant to. You will have to see all these events to their end. Only then can we see to return you home. This journey could bring you joy or perhaps even sorrow, but that is for you to decide. Now child it is time for you to go.” She touched my forehead and vanished.

Feeling a bit stunned and a bit confused I gathered Sidhe’s reins and led him down the path into the mist. The descent seemed longer than the approach, I just put that to all these new thoughts swirling in my mind. Much to my surprise when we left the mist I found us not at the foot of the hill but in front of Ardsheal.

If you see this Susan is having a conversation in French
If you see this Susan is having a conversation in Scots Galeic

I whispered a small thanks to Danu and then felt a warm hand against my cheek. I led Sidhe around to the stables, removed his bridle, and unsaddled him and brushed him down. Made sure he had hay, and then filled my hands with oats which he ate quickly. I hugged his neck and said to him. “I am not sure how much you understand what happened or you don’t, but I am grateful for you.” Then released him, and started to leave the stable. I felt his nose push against my back when I turned toward him he laid his head over my shoulder and gave a soft nicker. “Goodnight Sidhe and thank you.”

I made my way inside. While I was hungry, I opted to just go to bed made my way to my room. When I opened the door I found Seonaid dozing in the chair. I touched her gently on the shoulder “Seonaid you needn’t have waited, I would have managed somehow.”

She blinked and yawned “My lady I am so sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Nonsense, please if I am this late again just go to your bed. It will not be the first time I will have slept fully dressed and I doubt it will be the last.” I replied.

She helped me get ready for bed, before she left, I gave her a hug and said “Thank you for taking such good care of me.” She looked at me with a bright blush to her cheeks and hurriedly left. I got into bed and fell fast asleep and dreamt of goddesses having a tea party.

Life returned to my normal routine although now I had mission, one that actually was at odds against my hosts and my friend wants for the future. Yet knowing the consequences and also knowing what will follow if completed successfully, caused an internal struggle that weighed heavy on my thoughts. I don’t know why but a thought of a line from one my favorite fictional characters from the 2oth century came to mind “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.” While it didn’t exactly cover what I was feeling, I set my thoughts for allowing the outcome to be what it should be as it would help much more in the future.

Winter soon settled in and movement outside was severely curtailed for days at a time. I took to roaming Ardsheal during those times. I looked at the paintings of the past lords and ladies of Ardsheal, examined displays of trophies from battles long forgotten, searching storage rooms and in one of the rooms I found a Clàrsach obviously long forgotten. So thick with dust and cobwebs the ornate carvings on it could hardly be seen. When I touched it to pick it up my head was suddenly filled with music I wanted to play, none of which I recognized, but the music was there, I had a thought, and tried to remember songs my parents enjoyed dancing to, they loved going to ceilidhs and listing to the likes of Jimmy Shand. Suddenly I knew strathspeys, reels, and few other more modern tunes.

I went and looked for something to clean it off. After what seemed like hours I had it cleaned. I didn’t recognize the wood it reminded me of maple as far as color but I really had no idea. The pillar was ornately carved with Celtic symbols; the sides and back of the sound box were too. The top of the pin board from the pillar to the sound box as well. The strings were wire and were of a silver color. I took my found treasure to the hall and began to play. Soon Ardsheal was filled with the sound of music. Ogma’s gift filled my head with music. I kept things light to offset the dreariness of winter. I got lost in it, and soon had an audience I was unaware of, their feet were tapping, and hands clapping along with the music, a sense of happiness permeated the room. I don’t know how long I played but when I stopped I was met with applause.

I looked up and blushed, feeling like a child whose hand was caught in the cookie jar. Charles, Isabel, Andrew and Duncan stood before me along with some of the servants their faces stretched with smiles. Andrew said “Lassie you never mentioned you played the clàrsach.” I blushed and replied “I was never asked.” Hoping that would avoid more questions.

I looked at Charles and said to him. “Please forgive me for abusing your hospitality, I found it in a storage room and I just had the need to play it.”
He replied. “Don’t worry Susan, there hasn’t been a bard in this hall for as long as I can remember in fact I have been thinking of retaining a piper, I still might. I don’t even know anything about that clàrsach; I don’t remember ever seeing it before. But the feelings you have brought with your playing, I am just sorry we haven’t had someone here to play before now. Since I know nothing about it, I will give it to you, but you will have to play it again.”

So my daily routine changed in the weeks to follow. Along with my helping Isabel, and when the weather permitted I would ride Sidhe. After we had our supper, I would play the clàrsach until we retired for the night.

As the winter progressed thoughts of Christmas came to my mind, only to find out it was just considered another day. Hogmanay (New Year’s Eve) was for feasting and gift giving and so I rode Sidhe into Kentallen to search for gifts. From the blacksmith I bought ornately made Sgian dubhs (small knives used as an eating utensil) for Charles, Andrew, Iain, and Duncan. From the seamstress in the village I found a beautiful tartan airsaid (long heavy woolen cloak usually worn belted) for Isabel. She also had a small assortment of jewelry so I bought a small gold chain for Seonaid. I also bought a length of dark green wool in order to make a blanket for Sidhe. Dagda’s gift came in handy
.
So Hogmanay came with much feasting and dancing courtesy of me and my clasarch. Gifts were exchanged and were much appreciated although Seonaid was much surprised and thankful for my small gift. I received a beautiful silver brooch from Charles and Isabel and from Andrew a necklace of woven gold and silver.

Winter slowly gave way to spring and Charles soon learned that a French ship would be making an illicit stop in Oban and would send a man to make arrangements to sail into Loch Linnhe to pick up Andrew. Knowing I must go too. I approached Andrew about going. “Andrew would you object if I wish go to France with you?” I asked. He seemed surprised at my question. “Are you sure this is what you want? If and when we get there I will be busy, I am not objecting I would enjoy your company, But you would basically be on your own for much of the time I am concerned it might not be a suitable atmosphere for you lassie.”

He made a point, but it was moot. I had to go I didn’t have a choice “Yes, I am sure. I would like to go.” I replied. He sighed. “Well I will go and speak to Charles, but this is your idea not mine.”

The idea was met with resistance, but I insisted. Although Isabel thought I was being quite foolish and wouldn’t speak to me for a few days. I opted to travel lightly I would leave my clàrsach behind, but purchased some stays from the seamstress in the village that I could manage on my own. I also decided to leave my wardrobe behind as well figuring I could get what I needed in France. My biggest regret was leaving Sidhe.

One night near the end of May as expected, a ship sailed into Loch Linnhe and flashed a light toward the shore it was answered by one from shore. I hugged Sidhe and whispered to him I would be back. I said my goodbyes to Isabel and Seonaid with many tears exchanged and made my way to the shore. We were rowed out to the ship and I was lifted aboard with some sort of swing, Andrew climbed up a ladder. The ship made its way out to sea while I stood on the aft deck watching Ardsheal slowly vanish over the horizon, not knowing I wouldn’t see it again.

I was given the Captain’s cabin which had a bed. He moved into the first mate’s which he shared with Andrew. By daybreak we were out sight of land and on a southerly course. I retired to my cabin and slept soundly. I rose around midday. Went on deck, Andrew wasn’t in sight so I assumed he was sleeping. The ship’s captain was watching over the deck and his crew as I stepped up to the aft deck.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle, did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Bonjour Captain. Oui, I did thank you for asking, may I ask how long before we arrive in France?” I asked.

“I think perhaps if the winds and tides are favorable, two maybe three weeks, maybe longer if we have to avoid the English.” He replied.

It never dawned on me until later I spoke French with no trouble understand what was being said to me.

And so we continued our southward voyage with little change. I learned from Andrew we were headed to Le Havre. By the start of the second week aboard I soon noticed our course had changed and we had started heading in an easterly direction. The Captain warned us we were in waters where there would be a strong English navy presence, pointing to the north saying Plymouth was just over the horizon. The winds were still in our favor and in a couple of days I noticed the winds had changed. Andrew said. “Unless I am mistaken there is a storm brewing up.”

Andrew’s prediction as to the weather came true. The wind rose rapidly, ragged clouds hurried across the sky, and the waves rose up, and by nightfall the sea had become really heavy, dashing high in the air every time the ship plunged into it. Long before this I went down below with the worst case of seasickness I had ever experienced.

Before daybreak, a tremendous sea was running, and the wind blew with terrible force from the north. Although under but a rag of canvas the ship was pressed down gunwale deep, and each wave as it struck her broadside seemed to shove it leeward. Andrew went on deck and made his way aft glanced at the compass, and then took a long look over the foaming water towards where he knew the French coast must lie.

The wind was from the north, and as the clumsy craft was heading nearly east. He realized for every foot the ship went forward it was being pushed a foot leeward he realized, if it has been doing this all night the ship wouldn’t be far from the coast.

The French skipper appeared to think, for a few minutes afterwards he gave orders to bring her about on the other tack. Three times they tried and failed; each time the vessel slowly came up away from the wind, but the heavy waves pushed the ship back the headsails wouldn’t fill. Then the skipper gave orders to maneuver the ship. Her bow turned away from the wind until was nearly astern, two or three great seas struck her stern and buried her bow deeply, but at last the boom swung over and the ship’s bow came up on the other tack. During the course of these maneuvers the ship had been pushed two miles east, and when she was fairly under sail with her bow to the west Andrew took another long look towards the south.

Andrew touched the arm of the skipper and pointed to leeward. The skipper looked in this direction for a minute and then gave the order for more sail to be put on the ship, to try to force it out of the gale. But even when pressed to the utmost it was evident to Andrew that the force of the waves was driving the ship faster towards the coast than she could sail away from it, and he came below and told me to come on deck.

“I would rather lie in bed, Andrew” I said.

“Your full of nonsense, lassie! The wind and spray will soon knock the sickness out of you; and you will want all your wits about you, for it won’t be many hours before we are bumping on the sands, and stoutly built as the craft is she won’t hold together long in such a sea as this.”

“Do you really mean it, Andrew, or are you only trying to get me on deck?”

“I mean it, lassie. We are drifting fast upon the French coast, and there is no hope of it changing course in such a gale as this.”

The news stirred me enough. I had not suffered at all on the voyage down from Ardsheal, and I was already beginning to feel better when Andrew came down to call me. I was soon on deck holding on to the bulwark. “There it is, that long low black line; it looks a long way off because the air is full of spray and the coast is low, but it’s not more than three or four miles; look at that broad belt of foam.” Andrew shouted at me.

For some hours the French skipper did his best to turn to the leeward, but it was in vain, the ship drew nearer and nearer towards the shore; the anchors were got in readiness, and when within a quarter of a mile of the line of breakers, the ship’s bow was brought up into the wind, and the lashings of the two anchors cut simultaneously.

“Will they manage, Andrew?” I asked.

“Not a chance of it, lassie, of course the captain is right to try; but no ropes were ever made would hold such a rounded craft as this in such storm.”

The ship’s lines ran out until the ship’s anchors bit. Just as they tightened a great wave rolled in on the bow. Two dull thuds were heard, and then the ship’s bow slackened off. The ship’s jib sail was run up instantly to help her turn, and under this sail the brig was headed directly towards the shore. The waves were breaking round us now; but the ship was almost flat bottomed and drew little water. All of us on board hung on to the rigging and bulwarks, momentarily expecting a crash, but she drove on through the surf until within a hundred yards of the shore. Then the ship went down in the trough of a wave there was a mighty crash. The next wave swept it forward the full length of the ship.

Then there was another crash even louder than the first, and then the masts simultaneously went over the side. The next wave moved the ship but a few feet; the one which followed, finding the ship immovable, piled itself higher over the ship, and swept in a flood down the sloping deck. The stern had swung round after the first shot, and the ship now lay broadside to the waves. The ship was at such an angle that it was impossible to stand on the deck; but the captain managed to get on the upper rail, and although frequently almost washed off, managed to cut the rigging and ropes that still attached the masts to the ship there.

Then he joined us and the crew, who were standing chest high in the water on the lee side, the floating masts were pulled in until within a few yards of the vessel, and such of the crew as could swim made towards them. The skipper cut the last rope that bound them, and then plunged in and joined his men and us. The distance was little over fifty yards to the shore, and the wreck formed a partial shelter.

A crowd of people were assembled at the edge of the beach with ropes in readiness to give any assistance in their power. Andrew and I were among those who had swum to the masts, but when within a short distance of the shore, Andrew shouted my ear “Swim off, lassie, the masts might crush us.”

As soon as they neared the shore a number of ropes were thrown. Most of the sailors, seeing the danger of being crushed, followed the example of Andrew, and left the masts. Andrew and I swam just outside the point where the waves broke until a line fell in the water close to us.
“Give it a twist round your arm,” Andrew shouted, “or the backwash will tear you from it.”

The wet wool of my clothes started slowing me down as I reached for the line I felt the weight pulling me under I just didn’t have the strength to fight to keep myself afloat and I started to panic and let go of the rope and sunk beneath the waves I felt strong arms wrap around me then a sudden jerk pulled me through the water.

The sailors on shore watched their opportunity, and the instant a wave passed beneath us, ran up the beach at full speed with the rope. A few seconds later I was lying at full length upon the sand, and before the next wave reached us a dozen men had rushed down and seized me and Andrew, and carried us beyond its influence. For a minute or two I felt too bruised and out of breath to move.

Then I heard Andrew’s voice “Are you hurt Susan, are you still with me?”

“Yes; I am I think, but a bit bruised Andrew,” I replied, making an effort to sit up. “Are you?”

“No, lassie; bruised as well, but no worse.”

One by one the sailors were brought ashore, one with both legs broken from the force with which he was dashed down by the surf, and one man who stuck to the mast was crushed to death as it was rolled over and over on to the shore. The captain and the rest of the sailors were, like Andrew and me, unhurt.

We found out that the spot where the ship had struck was half a mile west of Bretteville. We were taken to the town, and were hospitably entertained. There was a small body of soldiers were quartered there, and the officer in command on learning from Andrew that he and myself were passengers, and were Scots making their way to escape imprisonment as friends of the Stuarts, and that Andrew had for five years served in one of the Scottish regiments of Louis, and was now bound for Paris, the officer said that we were free to continue our journey.

It was two or three days before we started, for we found out the next morning that we were both too severely bruised to set out at once on the journey. As Andrew had taken care to keep a purse containing money given to him by Charles securely fastened to a belt under his clothes we had no lack of funds; but as time was no object we headed for Paris on foot.

Good weather had set in after the storm. It was now the middle of June 1744 all nature was bright and cheerful, as was the dresses of the peasant girls, the style of architecture was so different to that to which I had grown accustomed to in Scotland and everything else was also new and strange to me. As Andrew spoke French fluently and with my gifts from the Aos-Sidhe we had no problems on the way. I greatly enjoyed the journey.

We arrived at Chateau de Saint-Germaine en-Laye by the third day. As he had a room assigned Andrew went to find someone who could find one for me. He left me in the great hall. And while I must have looked like something the cat dragged in. I made myself comfortable while trying to be obscure Most of people were men dressed mostly in coats, vests knee breeches and hose. Some were tartan but most were ornate as if dressed for court, or wool of a solid color. I could hear a lot of English being spoken some Scots and French. There was even a smattering of what I thought might have been Italian.

Suddenly I heard a voice “Susan, Susan!” I looked and there was this tall older man rushing over to me although, he appeared to be doing so with great difficulty. “Is it you? No it cannot be! Can it be so? It is I William your brother!”

I stood up, slightly embarrassed by my disheveled appearance. “Sir I believe you have mistaken me for someone else. Grant you my name is Susan. Susan Gordon. But I have no brother named William. I am sorry I am not your Susan, for you seem to miss her greatly.”

He gave a sad smile “I should apologize for my behavior, it is just you look so much like her. Then introductions are in order. I am William Murray.”

“William Murray, Marquis of Tullibardine?” I curtsied. “Please forgive my manners my lord.”

“Nonsense, please no formalities. Susan.” He said. “But how is it you know of me? May I ask?”

“My friend, Andrew Stewart of Appin, he mentioned you.” I replied.

“Andrew? He has returned?” He asked.

“Yes. We just arrived this morning; and he is off searching for someone to find a room for me.” I replied.

“He should have come and seen me first, I know of rooms that aren’t in use. Come with me.” Then he offered me his arm. “Once you are settled I will send someone to find him, and let him know where you are.”

He led me from the hall into this beautiful cobblestoned courtyard. “Beautiful isn’t it? He asked.

“It is very much so, my lord.” I replied and meant every word it was stunning. I was reminded of Venice by the style of architecture.

“Please now none of that my lord nonsense Susan. I insist you call me William”

He pointed out part of the chateau to the north “That is called the Wing of the King and the Young Prince’s chambers and mine and a few others are located there. The south side is called the Wing of the Children of France, you will find Andrew’s room there but mind you there are many supporters here so finding where he is exactly may take some work. Although many are of minor rank we have tried to make them comfortable. We are all here for the rightful king. And should you need it the chapel is there as well.” We continued across the courtyard. This is the Wing of the Queen as he opened the door. Then he led me in.

“Now I must ask your forgiveness, and allow me to rest a moment. I suffer from the gout and a wound I obtained in the ’15 and both take much out of me.” While waiting on William to recover from the walk. I looked at William, Tall and fair haired He was well built but was obviously losing his form to age. He probably was handsome, but he appeared much older than he probably was. It was obvious he has spent a lot of time away from Scotland his speech held an accent I would almost say it sounded Italian.

“Thank you for your patience Susan.” He said after about ten minutes. Then led me to the left and then up a circular staircase. “This one of the oldest parts of the Chateau, so smaller staircases I am afraid to say.” When we arrived at the next level he then directed me to another stairwell. Upon reaching the third level we then headed to the right and proceeded down the hallway. “Here we are.” I found us standing in front of a set of double doors, which William proceeded to open. “These are the former chambers of Queen Mary the Young Prince’s grandmother.”

“We could never find anyone willing to take them as you can see they are quite feminine.” And William was right; the room was done in shades of pink and white with a floral pattern to the pink rug, the brocaded rose colored curtains along the far wall. Even the walls had were papered in a pale pink with white flowers the wainscoting was white There was a large white bed with pink brocaded silk bed canopy to the right which could easily sleep four with room left over. Opposite of the bed was a large fireplace with a white marble veined with pink surround and mantle.
The room couldn’t be any more feminine.

He motioned to the doors on either side of the bed “One, is your dressing room; the other is for your clothing.” He continued “The ones on the left, is for your toilette pointing to the furthest one, and this one is rooms for your maids.” He made his way across the room and sat down a white brocaded silk wingback chair, obviously needing to rest again.

I opened the curtains wider long the wall and found three sets of windowed doors that opened onto a terrace that looked out over a large vast plain that seemed to stretch for miles. I opened the doors to the terrace and a refreshing breeze blew into the room.

“Oh William this room is beautiful.” I said. Although personally I thought it was a little too ornate and much more than I needed. But as they say one should never look a gift horse in the mouth.

William got up from the chair stiffly and with much effort and spoke. “Now then I will go to let you rest and find Andrew and let him know where you are. I will ask though do you have a maid and is she accompanying your wardrobe?”

“No William, I have neither maid nor wardrobe. In fact all I have is what you see.”

“Well then I will have to remedy that, or make sure Andrew will. Although the prince is in Rome and more than likely will be until further notice, and the king wishes to stay in Rome. We do have to keep up appearances of being a court; despite Louis’ disdain for us. Now I will leave you to rest should you wish to secure your rooms there is a key in one of these tables.” He gestured towards a couple of tables near the doors to the room. “Oh you and Andrew will sup with me tonight in my chambers. Please mention that to him.” He bowed and sadly said “It is amazing how much you look like my sister Susan when I last saw her.” and left closing the door behind him.

So my life at Chateau de Saint-Germaine-en-Laye began and I was beginning to feel very much like Alice and her trip down the rabbit hole, expecting the Cheshire cat to appear in any moment.

Some notes: I struggled with the clàrsach mainly due to the fact what is considered one today really didn’t start appearing until the early 18th century In fact by the time that the story takes place the clàrsach had practically disappeared from Scottish culture being replaced by the bagpipes which starting showing up in the mid to late 1500’s. Although the clàrsach had been known and used from at least around the 9th century. So I decided to use a version that was known in the 1500’s. You can see one and hear it here. My other problem was my shipwreck I hope I got things right. I know nothing about sailing and what happens with wind changes etc. I skimmed Moby Dick, along with Horatio Hornblower, the Master and Commander series and even Robinson Crusoe to get the right idea. If you see some glaring errors please let me know. If you have questions don’t hesitate to ask. Thank you all for reading.