The Secret of Isobel Key (6 page)

“Tammy, I don't know. I want to go to bed.” Lou was almost begging. “Aren't you tired? Let's go upstairs,” she coaxed, “and get some sleep before tomorrow. We have to be on the bus pretty early, remember.”

Tammy gave Lou a long, appraising look. “I won't open the door until you admit what you want.”

Lou almost shouted in exasperation, but lowered her voice, suddenly remembering that they stood outside on a street lined with businesses and homes in a foreign country. She didn't want to make a scene. “Why don't you tell me what I want, so we can just go up to bed, hmm?”

Tammy swatted at Lou's shoulder. “You want to get laid, Lou-isa!” She doubled over laughing, and once more Lou fought the urge to smack her drunken best friend.

“Okay. Tammy, okay, you win. Yes, I want to get laid, but right now, I just want to go to bed! Can't we go upstairs?”

“
You're no fun. Don't you even want to see if we can find you a Highland fling?” Tammy almost choked on her own laughter, and Lou rolled her eyes.

“Later. Please, Tammy. Let's call it a night.”

“Fine,” Tammy grumbled, “you're such an old lady, Lou. I'm just trying to cheer you up!” Tammy opened the door, her voice starting to screech.

“I know, Tammy. I know. Thank you. You have cheered me up.” Lou continued trying to appease her best friend as they climbed the steep stairs to their bedroom. Mumbling, Tammy tumbled into her bed and stayed there, and Lou breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the even breathing coming from the other bed. Lying there in the dark, Lou tried to fall asleep, but her mind wouldn't stop whirring. Right now, she wasn't so concerned about being unemployed (maybe the alcohol had done some good, after all). She was stewing over Tammy's teasing words, thinking about the last time she'd had sex. She hadn't had much time for dating in college, between her work schedule and her overloaded course load, but there had been that one night with Todd last spring. Lou sighed. Maybe Tammy was right, and a little love affair on vacation would be the thing to heal her gloomy spirits.

Listening to Tammy snore in the other bed, Lou tossed and turned. When she finally began to drift off, she was surprised to see Brian's handsome face in her mind. His lips curled seductively, and Lou fell asleep smiling her thoughts filled with the rugged Scotsman.

Times were hard for the Keys, and for all of Scotland, but Isobel felt no threat. She was safely wrapped up in a family brimming with love.

Isobel never really noticed if the broth was a bit thinner than yesterday, or the bread rather stale, because she was a happy child who grew into a happy woman. She considered herself most blessed in her family, and although her heart began to yearn for a home of her own as she progressed in years, she was outwardly content living in her parents' house until love presented itself.

She and Margaret remained close as Isobel grew from adolescence to womanhood and Margaret bloomed into maidenhood. Despite their closeness, two more different spirits had never resided under the same roof. While Isobel was quiet and studious, silently absorbing the wisdom of her mother's craft, Margaret was as boisterous as the village boys she liked to play with in the town square. Margaret could not stand to be around the sick, and she always made excuses when their mother went to visit an ailing man or a pregnant woman. Isobel did not always understand her vivacious sister, but the bond that had formed between them in childhood remained strong even as their differences became more and more apparent.

Margaret began trailing their father to the university kitchens, where she showed surprising skill. Their father once joked that she moved faster than the fire and was able to save all manner of dishes from burning, and Margaret beamed at his approval. Although it was most uncommon in those days for a man to take a female apprentice, such an unofficial apprenticeship began. With both their daughters following in their footsteps, the Keys felt relaxed and confident in the future. The world, they were certain, would always need to be healed and fed, and between their two children both these skills were mastered.

It was through Margaret's apprenticeship in the university kitchens that Isobel first came face to face with the man she was destined to love. Alexander Nairn was a young theology student at St. Mary's in 1647, which was shortly after fifteen-year-old Margaret had begun her culinary study in earnest. Isobel was accustomed to visiting her father and sister in the kitchens for the noon meal if Mary did not need her to attend to a patient, and it was due to this routine that the couple met. The young man in question chanced to see Isobel, an almost over-ripe woman at the age of five and twenty, and he fell madly in love with her upon first sight.

He wooed her with poetry and freshly picked heather, and took her walking along the coast in the chill of the evening, so he could put an arm around her to keep her warm. Their love blossomed quicker than any summer flower, and they planned to wed with the turning of the New Year. Strangely, Isobel's parents did not seem as charmed with her lover as she was, and they attempted to caution Isobel to seek a different match. In her youthful arrogance, Isobel only allowed their concern to strengthen her love for Alexander. She found it not bothersome that her beaux was almost a decade younger than her, and shut her ears to her parents' complaints.

Hours she spent giggling with Margaret in their loft, discussing his countless virtues, and slowly Isobel found herself plotting with her sister. Because of her parents' overt displeasure, Isobel doubted that permission would ever be given for her and Alexander to wed. Despite the close-knit structure of the Key family, Isobel began to consider openly defying her parents. Swept up with the romanticism of a young lass, Margaret encouraged her older sister to abandon hearth and home and ride off at Alexander's side. Although skeptical at first, Isobel began to warm to the idea when her beau himself suggested that elopement was perhaps their best option. Gradually, the two made plans to run away from the village and start fresh, somewhere they would be unknown to all. Isobel couldn't bear to leave her family behind entirely, so they
compromised
on a homestead five miles outside the village: still close enough for the families to have contact once the dispute was resolved, but far enough removed to help prevent any scandal or gossip from tainting the marriage.

On the twentieth of August, 1647, at the hour of midnight, Isobel Key crept down the ladder from her loft, past the smoldering ashes on the hearth in the common room, and out into the black night. As arranged, Alexander waited for her down the narrow wynd just past her home, already mounted on a borrowed chestnut brown horse. Isobel carried only a small bundle of clothes, and as Alexander swung her up behind him and turned the horse away from her home, she felt a pang of worry deep in her spleen. Leaving in the night was perhaps a cowardly way to conduct themselves, and she couldn't help but wonder at the pain and fear that her parents would feel when they awoke to find her missing. But just when she was about to ask Alexander to stop, to turn back and ask for permission to marry her in daylight, she felt the warmth of the man seated in front of her. Isobel tingled, feeling a sense of liveliness that was completely new to her. Leaning forward and wrapping her arms tight around her lover's waist, she turned her face away from her childhood home and began to dream of her future.

Lou leaned against the window of the bus and shut her eyes. Her head wasn't throbbing too badly, considering the amount of booze she and Tammy had gotten away with the night before, but every now and again the bus hit a pothole in just the right way, sending sparks of pain through Lou's head. She glanced at Tammy, annoyed that her best friend seemed as chipper and fresh as always.

The rain had stopped, finally. The group was still planning a short hike, but they had to drive a bit to get there, stopping here and there to unload everyone for photo opportunities. The ominous feelings brought by the rainclouds seemed to have changed overnight into a feeling of magic, and Lou could almost believe the stories of giants and faeries that Brian told them as they drove. Despite her hangover, Lou hung on his words, soaking up his deep voice and thinking about her dream.

At one point, the bus stopped at yet another bend in the road and Brian gestured to the blue, mist-shrouded mountaintop to their left.

“If we're lucky, we might be seein' a peek of the Old Man himself. A top that hillock, folks, rests one of Scotland's giants. Now, you remember when we saw the Giant's Causeway this mornin', yes?” He looked around at the assembled tourists, all nodding at him. Lou nodded vigorously; the rocky cliff face he had shown them that morning had supposedly been formed by a running giant, traipsing back to Ireland after attempting an unsuccessful raid on the Isle of Skye. Something about the way his face lit up when telling the story made Brian even more attractive, and Lou had found herself hanging on every word, committing the legend to memory.

Satisfied that his audience was paying attention, Brian continued the tale. “The Old Man of Storr lived with his giantess wife not very far from where we're now standing. One day when the two were out walking, a heavy enchantment fell upon them, and they felt so tired that they knew they must sleep or fall over.” Brian paused, a mischievous shine in his eyes. “You see, it wasn't unlike the scene in that lovely old film, ‘The Wizard of Oz', when all the creatures fell down in the red flowers to sleep.” His audience chuckled in shared remembrance, and Lou felt herself blushing as red as the poppies Brian had referenced. She wouldn't mind falling asleep in a field with him!

Unaware of the thoughts playing through the mind of one of his group, Brian continued with his story. “The Old Man and his wife, they sat themselves down right there,” here he gestured to the low hilltop behind him, “and they settled in for a bit of a nap. Days passed, and weeks, but still the couple slept. The enchantment on this mountain was so strong that they stayed there, sleeping, until many centuries had passed and an enchanter turned their two forms into stone. And they are still sleeping there, to this day!”

Everyone looked obediently at the mountain, still hidden behind the thick mist, and Brian sighed. “They're a wee bit shy, folks. But you'll just have to trust my word that they are there, slumbering away.” Lou snapped a picture of the spot where the sleeping giants waited, and followed Tammy and the rest of the group back to the bus, her spirits high despite her headache. She wasn't sure if she was in such a fine mood because of the beauty of the day or because Brian had been especially talkative today, sharing stories every few minutes, allowing Lou to listen to his lilting voice all morning. Lou could have listened to him forever.

She glanced up and noticed Brian ambling down the aisle of the bus toward them. Sinking into her seat, Lou felt her face heating up as she half-remembered the dream she'd had last night. Something straight out of a trashy romance novel, she remembered that much, with Brian as the handsome criminal or pirate or some such; she wasn't sure, but she remembered that
he
had been wearing a ruffled shirt. He'd wrapped his strong arms around her, and Lou could still feel the heat from his skin if she closed her eyes. It had been the best dream she'd had in a long time, but now that her dream man was headed toward her, Lou felt tongue tied. Hoping he couldn't read her mind, Lou tried to act nonchalant when he suddenly stopped beside her seat.

“And how are the American girls doin' this fine morning?” Brian's eyes looked bright with some secret laughter, and suddenly Lou wondered where in town he had spent the night. He wasn't staying in their B&B; had he heard about their rather raucous drinking binge? Lou's face heated up a few more degrees at the thought.

Brightly, Tammy turned from the window and gave the tour guide a wide smile. “We're wonderful! There's something about the air here that just wakes me up better than coffee, I can't understand it!”

“Maybe it isn't just the air,” Lou muttered, hoping Brian wouldn't understand what she meant, but he laughed and broke her illusion of safety.

“I hear you girls did a fine bit of carryin' on last night! Wish you would have told me, I always like a good celebration.”

“Well, then you'll just have to give us something else to celebrate,” Tammy said, raising her eyebrow provocatively. Lou felt her heart sink to the floor as she realized that Tammy was flirting with Brian. Well, why shouldn't she? It wasn't as if they were still in middle school, back when you made vows to your friends to never even think about anyone they liked. And to be fair to Tammy, Lou thought, she hadn't said anything about her growing attraction to Brian. As far as Tammy was concerned, he was fair game.

“I'd like to do that. I'll have to start thinkin' up something before the tour ends tomorrow!” Brian directed his words at both girls, but Lou didn't meet his eye. She stared at the seat in front of her, trying to block out the smell that lingered in the aisle even after Brian had made his way back to the front of the bus. Pine needles and sweat, Lou thought to herself, identifying his scent with a sigh. She closed her eyes, reliving her dream one last time.

“God, isn't he just the best looking thing on this bus!” Tammy spoke softly, but Lou still shushed her, worried that Brian could hear them.

“Shh, Tammy. He heard about last night; maybe the guy has supernatural hearing or something.”

Tammy giggled and poked Lou in the ribs. “Whatever, Lou. I don't know why you're so paranoid. He is hot, you have to admit that.” She stage whispered the last sentence, and Lou glanced once more toward the front of the bus. Brian appeared to be absorbed in the materials on his clipboard, probably checking their itinerary for the next stop. Tammy poked Lou again, obviously waiting for a reply.