Pickles, Anchovies, and Dreams - Part 1

Author: Ava E-mail: mmmThatAJ@yahoo.com Rating:  PG-13 Classification: AJ/Mac Romance Disclaimer: JAG and all its characters belong to Belisarius Productions, Paramount, CBS, Viacom, and probably endless others. Summary:  Harriett's having some very strange dreams during this pregnancy; will any of them come true? Author's comments:  Characters' speaking parts are in double quotes ("text"); characters' thoughts are in single quotes ('text'). Historical notes:  The Eilean Donan is a real castle in Scotland.  It was built in the 13th Century.  Eilean Donan was Clan MacKenzie's most important stronghold from the 13th Century until it was destroyed in 1719.  In 1719, the castle was held by 46 Spanish Jacobites. On May 10th, three English frigates - the Flamborough, the Worcester and the Enterprise - sailed into Loch Duich and attacked the castle, causing extensive damage. When the bombardment was over, Captain Herdman of the Enterprise went ashore and blew up the garrison's powder magazine of 343 barrels of gunpowder.  The castle was reconstructed in the early 1900s, completed in 1932.

The Eilean Donan in ruins.   The Eilean Donan as it stands today.

Sunday, 20 April 2003
0305 EDT
Roberts Residence
Rosslyn, Virginia

Bud Roberts gasped in pain as his wife slugged him in the stomach. He grabbed her arms and pinned her to the mattress. "Harriett!" he whispered urgently, not wanting to wake their son in the next room. "Harriett! Honey, wake up!"

Harriett shook her head back and forth in her sleep; she was obviously having a bad dream. A very bad dream. Bud eased up on his hold when she stopped struggling, thinking she was waking up. As Harriett felt his grip ease, she hauled off and punched him in the eye as hard as she could. She opened her eyes with a smile on her face, "There! That will teach you not to kiss unsuspecting ladies in waiting!" she said triumphantly.

Bud was so startled when his wife hit him and then to hear her words, he rolled off the bed and stood up. Just as he was about to try again to wake his wife, she rolled over and starting snoring. "Well, I'll be..." Bud started. He shook his head in wonder and made his way to the bathroom.

He flipped on the light switch and squinted into the suddenly bright room. He looked in the mirror and saw Harriett's handprint very prominently displayed on his cheek. "So that's what she did first," he grumbled to himself. "I knew I felt something wake me up even before that punch in the gut. She slapped me!" It was already bright red, and his eye was beginning to swell from that last punch. "Oh great. I'm gonna have a black eye on Easter Sunday," he moaned.

"Bud?" Harriett called from the bedroom. "Is something wrong, Honey?"

"No, Sweetie. Everything's fine. Go back to sleep." Bud knew that if Harriett saw his face now, she'd be very upset.

But Harriett didn't go back to sleep. She knew her husband well; she knew that Bud never got up during the night... not unless there was a problem. She knew the phone hadn't rung, so it wasn't an office or family emergency. She hadn't heard their son cry out, so she knew it wasn't little AJ. She wasn't sick. So it had to be Bud, himself. "Bud," she spoke as she rounded the corner into the bathroom, "are you sick?"

"No, Sweetie, I'm fine." Bud tried to turn away from her before she saw his face, but he didn't realize she was right there, and he didn't move quickly enough.

"Oh, my God!" she squealed. "Bud! Did I do that?!" she asked, touching her fingers gently to his red cheek. "Oh God... look at your eye! Honey, it's swelling shut!"

Bud nodded. "Yeah, it's gonna be pretty ugly in a few hours."

"You didn't answer me," she whispered.

"Sweetie, you didn't mean to..." Bud tried to calm her before she got too upset.

"That's it. No more. I'm just not safe for you to sleep with anymore!" Harriett's eyes welled with tears, and she turned and went back to the bed. She grabbed her pillow and the comforter from the foot of the bed. "I'll sleep in the guest room from now on."

"Sweetie, no! I don't want you to do that. I want you right here... in our bed..." Bud argued.

"Why? So I can punch you again? Next time it might be in your gut!" When Bud cringed slightly at her words, she said, "No! Oh, my God! I did! I punched you in the stomach, too?!" Harriett's tears streamed down her face.

"Honey," Bud pulled her into his embrace, "the doctor said these dreams would pass. It's just a phase of your pregnancy."

"I never had this before, Bud. Not with little AJ and not with baby Sarah," Harriett argued.

"No, you didn't. But when you were carrying little AJ, you had cravings for some really weird sandwiches with anchovies and you were on a cleaning frenzy all the time. You even threw away the Admiral's lunch."

Harriett's mouth quirked into a grin. "Risotto," she remembered.

Bud continued, "And when you were carrying baby Sarah, you ate every pickle in sight!  And you kept cleaning up everyone's desk at JAG. Gunny was getting a little annoyed there for a while. And you even swore that you'd never be pregnant again, remember?"

Harriett smiled sadly. "That was when I was trying on dresses for the Admiral's awards dinner."

Bud grinned, "The Surface Warfare ball. How could I forget? I wrote that stupid speech in less than an hour on the plane coming home from Florida." He rambled on, "And you wore that gown that Renee got you from Madonna's music video. Wow! You looked incredible in that dress, Sweetie. And Mic showed up and surprised the Colonel by saying he'd moved here..."

Harriett knew Bud was trying to get her mind off of the dreams. But this was the third night in the last two weeks that she'd hit him while they slept. "Bud, I really think I should sleep in the other room. I don't want to hurt you..."

"Sweetie, I really don't want you to do that. I want you next to me," Bud implored his wife. "Please, Honey."

Harriett sighed. "All right. But if I hit you one more time in my sleep, that's it! I'm staying in the other room until this baby comes."

They laid back down in their bed and Harriett snuggled close to Bud. "What was the dream about tonight, Sweetie?" he asked her.

"I don't remember," she sighed.

"You said something about teaching somebody not to kiss unsuspecting ladies in waiting," Bud reminded her.

"I did?" Harriett's eyes rose in question. "Hmm, I wonder what that was about?" She shook her head, "I really don't remember a thing, Bud."

"Well, it doesn't matter. You just go back to sleep now, Sweetie." Bud leaned in and kissed his wife, and they cuddled closely until he fell asleep. Then Harriett slipped gently out of his arms and out of their bed. She picked up her pillow again, grabbed the comforter, and went quietly into the guest room.

Harriett laid across the bed and covered herself with the comforter. Soon she was fast asleep...

"Harriett, wake up! It's half past the bewitching hour, and the Master ain't come 'ome yet!" the groomsman informed the maid. "What shall I do? Should I wake Mr. Lindsey?"

"Where could he be? It's not like the Master to be so late in coming home these days," the maid replied, squinting against the light of the candle the groomsman held up.

"Aye, these days. But word has it there's a bad lot come to town. A lot the Master used to consort with. And if he's back with 'em..." the groomsman let the thought linger.

"No, Chris, I'm sure you're wrong," Harriett replied, lighting a candle of her own. "The Master would not go back on his word to his daughter. He promised her to stay away from the gaming houses. Surely he would not..." Harriett's words were cut short when they heard footsteps. "Oh, dear... that would be herself."

The door swung open and the dark-haired beauty stepped into the servants' living area. She held her chamber stick in front of her, and the glow of the candle framed her face and gave the appearance of a halo. "Ragle, has my father not yet returned home? He is not in his room, and I have not heard his carriage."

The man leered at his Master's daughter. She seldom spoke to him; in truth, she was a mite afraid of him. "No, Miss. I have no' seen your father this night."

"Odd. It's well past midnight. Father is always home before midnight."

"Aye, Miss."

"Sims, go and knock on Lindsey's door. Perhaps he will know something of Father."

"Yes, Miss," Harriett curtsied slightly and ran to the butler's room. She knocked on his door and listened. She heard grumbling and then the door swung open wide. Harriett was startled when she saw the butler standing there in only his long nightshirt. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Lindsey. The Master has not returned this evening, and Miss Sarah is worried. She thought per chance you might know something."

"And how would I know anything of her drunken father?" barked the man who now served as the butler and also the Master's personal valet. Lindsey was not at all pleased when Joseph MacKenzie announced 7 months prior that he had released his valet... and that Lindsey would now assume those duties as well as his duties as butler. Being the butler of Eilean Donan castle was an honor; being the valet of the current occupant was not.

Joseph MacKenzie was nothing like his ancestors. He was a drunk who beat his wife until she had fled the castle late one night and drowned in Loch Duich. None of the MacKenzie clan looked up to him now; he'd even been stripped of his title as Clan Chief. And he hadn't been voted the Moramaor of the Clan in nigh on to 15 years.  The primary reason, all believed, that his daughter remained still unmarried.  Not that strangers to the area hadn't approached him for her hand; they had, often.  But her father refused.  His daughter would never marry outside the Clan.

Lindsey slammed the door in Harriett's face and returned to his bed, muttering, "If only we could go back in time. When we turned to the new century, that was our undoing. And now? 1719 does not bode well to be a good year. I must get some sleep before it's time to leave."

Harriett returned to her mistress. "I am sorry, Miss Sarah, but Mr. Lindsey says he does not know anything of your father." Sarah didn't say another word. She simply turned around and walked out. Harriett followed her until she reached the staircase. "Is there anything I can get you, Miss?"

Sarah shook her head. "I just have a very bad feeling about Father's not being home yet, Sims. I don't know why. I don't know what it is. I just don't feel good about it."

"Perhaps a glass of warm milk will help you sleep?" Harriett suggested.

Sarah smiled her indulgence at the young maid. "No, thank you, Sims." Sarah made her way back up the staircase to her bed chamber.

Several hours later, just as the sun was beginning to light the day, Sarah awoke to the sound of hoof beats. "That is far more than just Father's carriage," she realized. She stumbled out of her bed and peered out the window. She saw the men on horseback and the flag they carried.  "Dear God in Heaven!" she cried. "Spaniards!"

Sarah ran to the bell pull by the bed and yanked several times, hoping that someone in the servants' quarters would hear it and attend her before the Spaniards entered the castle.  There were no guards on the castle grounds any longer; her father had to release all of them when he could no longer pay them.  He used most of their money on drink.  At least he had finally agreed to stop his gaming.  He'd almost lost the castle the last time he played... and the castle was not his to wager! Had he lost it, the Clan would have killed him... and probably her, as well.

Sarah quickly changed from her bed clothes into a dress and was brushing at her hair when she heard Harriett rushing up the stairs.  "Miss Sarah!  Miss Sarah!" she called.  "The castle is under attack!  The Spanish are here!"

"Yes, I saw them from my window, Sims.  Where is Lindsey?"

"I don't know, Miss.  I didn't see him at all this morning.  Nor Ragle.  None of the men are about; they are all gone.  It is just you and me, Miss.  Whatever shall we do?"

Sarah had the fleeting thought that Lindsey must have known the Spaniards were coming and left before they arrived.  'But no.  How would he have known?  And surely he would have warned me. But for all the men to be gone...?'  Sarah and Harriett were startled when there was a loud banging on the front door.  Sarah looked out the window again and saw the Spaniards using a small tree as a battering ram to knock down the door.  She flew out of her room and down the stairs, lifted the heavy bolt from across the door, and pulled it open.  The men on the other side were just about to thrust again, not having noticed that the door was now open, when Sarah yelled, "You could have just knocked!"

The Spaniards looked up at her, startled.  When the two at the front released their hold on the log and moved toward her menacingly, she heard a voice call out in Spanish from the end of the line of men.  "Do not touch her!"  The two men froze.  "Put the log down, men!"  The others obeyed just as quickly and lowered the log to the ground, then each took a step backwards.  

Sarah could see the man now.  She was frightened, but she refused to allow them to see her fear.  "Who are you?  What are you doing here?  What do you want?" she demanded.

The Spaniard answered her questions in English as he advanced toward her.  "I am Victor Galindez.  We mean to see James III take his rightful place on the throne of England.  And we are taking over this castle until..."

Sarah interrupted him.  "James III?!  You are... Jacobites?" she whispered hoarsely, the man hardly three feet in front of her.

Galindez knew now there couldn't be any fighting men at the castle... not with this young woman having opened the door as she did.  No man in any country would allow a woman to open the door in such an instance.  "Si, Señorita.  We are Jacobites," he replied gently.

Sarah paled.  She didn't know how the Clan felt about the Jacobites, but she did know that her father was against them.  She could never get him to explain why; he only said they were bloodthirsty whoremongers and that if she ever met one, she should kill him before he forced himself on her.  Sarah took a deep breath and stood up straight.  "You are not welcome in this house, Sir.  Please leave now."  She stepped backwards and tried to slam the door in his face. 

Galindez anticipated her reaction, and extended his arm, his hand stopping the door.  Sarah pushed with all her strength, but she was no match for the Spaniard.  He pushed back, and with hardly an effort, the door swung open and Sarah fell backward.  

"Miss Sarah!" cried Harriett as she rushed to her mistress now sprawled on the floor in an undignified heap.

"My apologies, Señorita," Galindez said as he reached his hand to Sarah to help her up.  

She refused his assistance and scrambled to her feet by herself.  "You are no gentleman, Sir!  Get out of this house!"

Galindez laughed and the other men joined him.  "Gentleman?  Me?  You are so right, Señorita.  I am no gentleman.  I am a warrior.  I take what I want."  He fixed his gaze on her and his eyes traveled the length of her body.

Sarah paled again, realizing that her father must be right.  But she mustn't show fear.  "And you want this house?  Why?" she demanded.

"To use as a stronghold, of course," he told her.

"Over my dead body," Sarah said boldly.

"No, Señorita.  You will be of no good to us if you are dead.  You and your maid will cook and clean for us.  And you will share our beds at night.  It has been a long time for some of my men."  Galindez reached out and ran his finger along Sarah's jaw line.  "Far too long," he said seductively.

"You will not touch me or my maid, Sir.  Or you will find your men dead, one by one, as you wake each day," Sarah said calmly.  But Galindez could see the fear and hatred burning in her eyes.

Galindez raised his hand and would have struck her, had Harriett not intervened and grabbed his arm.  "Please, Sir!  My mistress is yet unspoiled.  Please do not harm her."  Harriett fell to the floor at his feet.  "Use me as you will, but please, I beg you... do not harm my mistress," she sobbed.

Galindez looked down at the maid crying at his feet.  And then he looked up at the woman in front of him.  He raised an eyebrow to her, and Sarah blushed profusely, lowering her head.  "How old are you, Señorita?" he asked quietly.

"Nine and twenty," she replied just as quietly.

"And no man has ever..." his words trailed off in amazement.  He cleared his throat and said loudly, "You will be perfectly safe, Señorita.  My men will not harm you."  He looked down at his feet where Harriett was still sobbing.  He reached down and pulled her up to her feet.  "And you, Little One?  Are you also still a maid?"

Harriett gulped and shook her head fiercely.  "No, Sir.  I have been with many men..."

"Sims, tell him the truth," Sarah ordered.  

"I am, Miss..."

"Do not lie about this, Harriett," Sarah urged.  "He will know the first time..."

Harriett shook her head, determined to protect her mistress.  "I have been with..."

"You will bleed, Harriett, and he will know," Sarah argued.

Harriett gasped in fear but quickly regained her composure.  "I no longer bleed..."

Galindez pulled Harriett into his arms and pressed his groin against her.  "Do you feel that, Little One?"  Harriett tried to pull away from him, but he held her fast.  He moved his hips and ground himself against her.  "Can you fix that?" he whispered huskily in her ear.  She nodded.  "You know what to do then?" he asked.

He allowed her to pull back slightly as she nodded again.  "Oh yes, Sir.  I'm an excellent seamstress.  I can very easily fix your trousers so they are not so hard and stiff.  They must be terribly uncomfortable as they are now..."  Harriett continued to blabber on about how poor a tailor he must have had, as Galindez stared open-mouthed at the young maid.  He looked up at Sarah with a question in his eyes.

She nodded and mouthed a quiet, "She is as pure as the driven snow, Sir."

Galindez looked down at Harriett and cupped her face in his hands.  "Thank you for your offer, Little One.  But I think my tailor can make any adjustments to my trousers..."

"Oh, but Sir!  I can.." Harriett started to object.

"You will see to your mistress."  Galindez looked at Sarah.  "Show me the house.  Then I will tell you where the two of you will sleep."  He heard a few of his men chuckle at that, so he turned and addressed them.  "These maids will not be for your pleasure."  The men grumbled, so Galindez continued, "If any man so much as touches one of them without my prior approval, he will die by my hand.  Is that understood?!"

"¡Sí, Señor!" they chorused... none too happy.

He turned back to the women and whispered, "And they will not receive my approval."

The Spaniards made themselves at home at Eilean Donan.  They took the rooms in the main part of the house; Sarah and Harriett shared Harriett's tiny room in the servants' quarters.  Soon the two women were more friends than mistress and servant; Sarah always called her "Harriett" now.  Harriett, though, maintained the proper respect of her mistress, always addressing her as "Miss Sarah".  

It was almost two months later when Sarah found out her father had killed himself.  Galindez had gone into town and overheard the men talking.  He got all the details he could and returned to the castle, demanding that Sarah be brought at once to his bed chamber.  The men chuckled as they heard the order, deciding that their leader had finally succumbed to her beauty and his own desires.  Soon, it would be their turn.

Sarah's face was pale as she entered her father's room... now occupied by Victor Galindez.  "What do you want?" she asked.  "You promised that..."

The guard outside his door was just about to close the door, when Galindez yelled, "Leave it open!  Stand inside."

Sarah was surprised, but the guard was even more so.  "Open, Señor?"

"Open," Galindez repeated.  He turned his attention to Sarah.  "Please, Señorita.  Sit down.  I have news to tell you that will not be pleasant for you to hear."

Sarah sat on the settee at the foot of the bed and clasped her hands in her lap.  "News, Sir?  Of my father?" she asked hopefully.

Galindez nodded.  "He is dead."

Sarah's face fell and tears formed in her eyes.  "Somehow I knew... I knew that he was dead when he did not return home... did not even try to rescue me..."  She sniffed and looked up when she saw a white cloth.  She took the hankie he offered and dabbed her eyes and her nose.  "Do you know what happened?" she asked.

He nodded.  "I'm afraid I do, Señorita." Sarah looked up at him expectantly.  He sighed, long and heavy.  "It is not good, Señorita..."

"Of course it's not.  My father is dead..." she interrupted him.

"No, I mean... it is not good for you," he corrected.  Sarah sat quietly as Galindez began the story.  "Your father met a man just returned from Australia... a Lord Michael Brumby."  Sarah showed no recognition of the name, so he continued.  "They shot billiards together for several hours, the loser buying the drinks... and Brumby always allowed your father to win."

"Oh, Father..." Sarah sighed.

"From what I learned, Brumby had heard of you... of your beauty..." he hesitated, chancing a glance at Sarah's eyes.  They were filled with tears again, but she had not allowed them to fall.  "He had also heard how determined your father was that you not marry outside of the MacKenzie Clan.  Lord Brumby, however, was determined to claim you for himself.  That was when he formulated his plan.  Your father had no idea Brumby was allowing him to win at billiards.  And when your father was good and drunk, Brumby suggested they play for something more substantial than drinks... he put his property up as his bid.  Your father agreed; he suggested a monetary amount..."

"Which he didn't have..." Sarah sighed, shaking her head.

"Brumby refused, saying that he had plenty of money.  But why would your father not have bet the castle?"

"Because the castle belongs to the Clan, not to him," she replied simply.  "It was not his to wager."  Sarah looked up, concern growing in her eyes.  "What did he wager?"

Galindez' eyes took on a sorrowful expression as he replied quietly, "You, Señorita."

"Me?" she croaked.

"Sí.  You."

"My father bet... me?"

"And he lost, Señorita."

Sarah lost control of her tears and they streamed down her face.  "Oh, Father!  How could you..."

"Brumby was quite pleased with himself.  Your father couldn't understand what happened.  He'd won every other match that night against Brumby.  When he finally realized that he'd been duped, he went to the back of the pub and... shot himself."  Sarah gasped.  "Obviously, he could not face you to tell you what he had done."

"When?  When did this occur?" Sarah asked through her tears.

"Two months ago, Señorita.  The night we arrived."

"Why hasn't Brumby come for me yet?" she asked.

Galindez grinned.  "He is afraid to.  He knows that we hold the castle... and you."

Sarah looked up.  "So it was actually a good thing that you came here that night?"

Galindez nodded.  "Unless you would wish to be bound to Brumby... who, by the way, already has two wives in Australia."

Sarah blinked hard.  "Two wives?  How is that possible?"

"Australia is a penal colony, Señorita.  They do pretty much what they want to there, from all I hear.  I would seriously doubt his title is even legitimate."

Sarah blew her nose and sighed.  "Now what?" she asked, looking up at Galindez.

"Marry me," he suggested quietly.  Sarah gasped her surprise and jumped to her feet.  He continued, "If you are already married when Brumby gets up the nerve to show himself, he can do nothing to you.  You will belong to me."  He moved toward her slowly.  For each step forward he took, she took a step backwards... until her back was against the wall.  Galindez reached his hands to the wall on each side of her, effectively trapping her... and yet not touching her.

"You promised..." Sarah gulped.

"And I have kept my promise, Señorita.  Brumby will come; it is only a matter of time.  And I will let him have you when he comes.  Unless you belong to me.  Then I will fight him to the death, if need be.  If you are mine, no one will harm you.  Ever.  I will see to that."  Galindez moved his right hand to touch Sarah's cheek.  "You are so beautiful," he whispered, leaning toward her.  "So very beautiful."  He captured her mouth with his and kissed her gently.  

When he raised his head from her, she licked her lips.  "I cannot marry outside of the Clan," she whispered.

"No one in the Clan will have you because of your father's bet.  You belong to Brumby as far as they are concerned," he told her gently before lowering his mouth to hers again.  This time, when he raised his head, she leaned forward to continue the kiss.  Galindez pulled her into his arms then and deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her lips until he forced her mouth open.  He pulled her tightly against him, and it frightened her; she tried to back away.

"Please," she mumbled in his mouth.  "No... please..."

Galindez lifted his head and released his grip on her.  "I am sorry, Señorita.  I thought you wanted..."

Sarah interrupted him.  "I will marry you, Sir.  But this must wait until we are married," she insisted.

Sarah would not agree to a rushed ceremony.  She wanted to wear her mother's wedding gown, and there must be time for Harriett to alter it.  She also insisted that her favorite cousin, Harmon, perform the service.  He was a vicar now, and it would be legal with him officiating.  No one could say otherwise.  So Galindez quietly sent word to Stirlingshire requesting that Harmon Rabb come at once to Eilean Donan.  

Galindez calculated that it would take the vicar at least two weeks to arrive, possibly as long as three.  He warned Sarah that if Brumby came for her before that time, he would give her up.  In truth, he wouldn't.  He would fight for her.  Die for her, if necessary.  But he hoped in telling her this, she would agree to an earlier wedding date.  

She was not moved.

And so they waited, planning their wedding for May 10.  That would give Rabb an entire month to arrive... plenty of time.  Galindez had Sarah and Harriett moved back upstairs to Sarah's room, which pleased her to no end.  

When Harriett finished altering the wedding gown for her mistress, she approached Galindez.  "Sir, would you not have me prepare an appropriate wedding garment for you, as well?"

"And what did you have in mind, Little One?"

"Here in Scotland, the men wear a kilt when they marry."

"I will not wear a skirt!" Galindez almost shouted.  

Sarah heard him and giggled to herself.  She knew he would say no, but she couldn't seem to convince Harriett of that. 

"Is there nothing I can..." Harriett pressed.

"You may make me a new shirt, if you wish.  Mine is rather dull," Galindez told the maid.  

May 9 came and went, and Sarah's cousin did not come.  As the sun rose on May 10, Sarah was full of apprehension.  "Harmon should have arrived two weeks ago.  Did he receive the missive?  Did he just not care to come?" she wondered aloud.  

She rolled off the bed and looked out the window.  It was through this window only four months prior that she had first spied her soon-to-be husband.  She sighed, wondering if she was doing the right thing in marrying Galindez.  Surely he would not stay in Scotland, and she would be forced to go with him when he returned to Spain.  But Brumby!  He would probably drag her off to Australia... to join his other wives!  'I am definitely doing the right thing,' she determined.

Just as Sarah turned from the window, something caught her eye and she looked back.  There, walking toward the castle, was a lone figure.  Could it be?  "Harmon?" she whispered.  Then she turned and ran across the hall banging on Galindez' door.  "Sir!  He is here!  My cousin is arrived!!"

Galindez opened his door and saw Sarah standing in her nightgown in front of his door.  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently.  "I am glad he is come, my Sarah.  But I do think it would be best if you greeted him... clothed," he grinned.

Sarah's face turned bright red and she squealed, "Oh!" as she ran back to her room.  She could hear Galindez laughing as he made his way down the stairs. But she didn't care. She called out, "Harriett!  He is here!  Harmon is come!  I will be married today!"

And it was her cousin.  Galindez welcomed the vicar and explained that Sarah was dressing and would be down shortly.  Rabb looked sharply at the Spaniard, and Galindez continued.  "She saw you from the window of her bed chamber, and ran across the hall to tell me.  I was, of course, in my own room."

Rabb nodded and smiled.  "You have not spoiled my cousin then?  This is not a marriage of necessity?"

Galindez shook his head.  "I have not.  It is not... exactly."

Rabb quirked his eyebrow.  "What is it then... exactly, Sir?"

And Galindez told Rabb the story of how Joseph MacKenzie had lost his daughter to an Australian in a bet... an Australian who already had two wives.

"Then you are marrying Sarah only to save her from..."

"I am marrying your cousin because I want her," Galindez interrupted.  "I have wanted her from the day I saw her first.  She is magnificent.  And I..." he stopped speaking when he heard a rustle in the doorway.  He turned to see Sarah standing there.  She looked radiant, but her eyes held a question.  She wanted to know what he was going to say.  He looked at her and smiled.  "And I love her," he finished.

Sarah's smile burst on her face, and she gracefully walked to his side.  "Thank you, Sir."  Then she turned to her cousin and almost leapt into his arms.  "Harmon!!"

Harmon expected this; Sarah had always jumped in his arms... since they were small children.  He held her tightly and they laughed together.  "Hello, Sarah."

"I am so glad you have come to perform the ceremony," she told him happily.

"I was almost not able to get here," he told her.  "There are English everywhere... searching for Jacobites.  They stopped me in my travel on several occasions, and I was only able to continue on when I told them I was for Eilean Donan to perform a wedding today..."

Sarah looked at Galindez fearfully.  "Sir?  What if they..."

Galindez was ahead of her. He ran from the room, heading outside, and yelled to his men, "Bolster the guard!  Man the cannon!  Prepare for..."

But his last command was never completed as a cannonball came hurling over the castle wall.

Harmon grabbed Sarah and pulled her down under him to protect her.  "What's happening, Sarah?  What is it?" he asked urgently.

"The Spaniards are Jacobites!  It is known they are here.  The English must have used you to keep us off guard.  Oh, Harmon," she cried.

There were more cannonballs hurled at them, several hitting the castle itself.  "We must get out of here, Sarah!  Come..." he urged her, pulling her up with him.

"Victor!  I must see if he is hurt..." Sarah wiggled free of her cousin's grasp and ran toward the front door, throwing it open.  She gasped at the sight in front of her.  There lay her intended:  his leg severed and his head gashed open.  She collapsed by his side and cried, "Mr. Galindez?  Victor, answer me... Victor..."

Harmon knelt by her side.  "Sarah, he's dead.  You must come with me now.  I must get you out of here!"

"Miss Sarah!  Miss Sarah!" they heard Harriett's cry as she ran through the door out to them.  "We must get out of here!"

"No! I cannot leave Victor," she sobbed.

One of the Spaniards rushed to Sarah's side.  "Señorita, you must leave now.  Hurry!  There are three English frigates in Loch Duich.  They are firing at us!  You must leave or be killed!  El Señor would have wanted you to be safe.  You must leave at once," he insisted.

"Victor," Sarah sobbed and leaned over to kiss his cheek.  "I am so sorry.  So very sorry."

"Sarah, come... now!" urged her cousin.

The two women and the vicar fled the castle grounds as the Spaniards fired their cannon toward the English ships.  They knew it was fruitless; their cannon was far too small to reach the ships in the Loch.  Sure enough, their cannonballs fell in the shallow water near the shore.

As the threesome reached a safe spot where no cannonballs were flying, Sarah stopped and turned back to face her home.  She collapsed to the ground as she watched it be destroyed by the English.  Four hours later, the bombardment ceased.  The air was still and quiet.  "Are they finished?  Shall they not completely destroy it?  Only make it unlivable?" Sarah cried.  She rose to her feet and started running back toward the castle.  

Harriett immediately followed, screaming for her.  "Miss Sarah!  Miss Sarah, don't go back!  It isn't safe!"

Harmon caught up with his cousin quickly and stopped her.  "Sarah, you can't go back."

"Victor..."

"He is dead, Sarah."

"I must go back, Harmon.  I must at least give him a proper burial," Sarah insisted.  Harmon couldn't argue with that.  He was a vicar, after all.  He would say the words over the bodies of the dead men as his sweet cousin wished.  And then he would take her home with him to Stirlingshire.  There were plenty of men there who would make her an excellent husband... she would have her choice.

As they reached Galindez' body, Sarah sank to her knees.  She didn't notice the English sailors approaching, but Harriett and Harmon did.  "It is my fault," she said, reaching her hand to stroke Galindez' bloody face.

The English stopped as she spoke.  Harmon held up his hand to them to keep them quiet.  He hoped they would do as he asked.  He said gently, "No, Sarah.  It isn't your fault."

"I insisted that you come to perform the ceremony.  If I had not, Victor would be alive now."

"Did you truly love him that much?" her cousin asked, amazed.

She shook her head.  "No, I did not.  But he protected me, Harmon.  When they came and took the castle, they intended on using Harriett and me.  They said so.  They looked at us with such... lust," she gulped.  "But when Victor learned that we were both still maids, he said we would not be harmed."  She laid her head on Victor's chest, her tears streaming down her face.  "He kept his word, Harmon.  He kept us safe."  She leaned forward and kissed his mouth this time, whispering, "I'm sorry, Victor.  I would have tried to be a good and dutiful wife to you."

Sarah slowly rose to her feet and looked up, surprised to see the English sailors.  "Are you come then to destroy the rest of my home?" she spat.

When the most senior officer didn't speak, another man did.  But he addressed Harmon, not Sarah.  "I am Captain Herdman of His Majesty's frigate, the Enterprise.  These are the captains of the other vessels:  Admiral Chegwidden of the Flamborough and Captain Morris of the Worcester."

"Are you hurt, Miss?" Captain Morris asked.

"I?  No, Sir.  I am not hurt.  However, you have killed the man I was to marry today," Sarah replied haughtily.

"He was a Jacobite, Miss."

"Yes, he was," she agreed.  "As were his men.  But..."

Captain Herdman interrupted her.  "And enemies to His Majesty," he said curtly.  Then to his men, "Find the magazine and bring me word!"

"If you're looking for the gunpowder, it's in the stable.  I wouldn't allow it in the house," Sarah said.

"You wouldn't..." started Herdman.  "Not much of a man if he took orders from the likes of you."  He stomped after his men and yelled, "The stable!  It's in the stable!"

Sarah watched as they headed to the back of the castle.  "What will he do?  Carry it away?" she asked no one in particular.

"Knowing Herdman, he'll blow it up even if it's only one barrel," grumbled Morris.

"Blow it up?!" Sarah turned shocked eyes to the Captain.  "Can't you stop him?  Can't he just take it away?"

Admiral Chegwidden spoke for the first time.  "Morris, go tell him to count it first.  If it's a small enough amount, we can carry it out.  No need to cause the lady any more distress today."  He now knew that this was most certainly the ravishing daughter of Joseph MacKenzie, the young woman of whom he had heard so much.  

Morris took off at a run, with two of his officers behind him.  Sarah turned grateful eyes to the Admiral.  "Thank you, Sir."

Chegwidden turned to another officer, "Bury the Spaniards, Lieutenant."

"Sir?" the young officer croaked.

"You heard me, Lieutenant.  Bury them.  And this man in his own grave," he looked down at Galindez' body.

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"Thank you, again, Admiral.  That is very..."

"Don't thank me yet, Miss MacKenzie.  If there is too much gunpowder here, we will have no choice," Chegwidden interrupted her gruffly.  Morris and Herdman returned and came to attention in front of the Admiral.  "Well?"

"There are 343 barrels of gunpowder, Admiral," replied Herdman smugly.

"Good God!" exclaimed Chegwidden.  He turned to Sarah.  "It cannot be helped."  He then turned to Rabb.  "This place will not be fit for a dog afterward.  Where will you go?"

Harmon looked at Sarah.  "You will come back to Stirlingshire with me, Cousin?"

Sarah shook her head.  "No, Harmon.  I have always lived by the sea.  I could not, by choice, live so far from it.  Since I cannot live on the sea as I always wished growing up," she sighed, "I will stay next to it."

"Sarah, if you stay here, the Australian will..."

Sarah gasped.  "Lord Brumby!  I forgot!"

Chegwidden turned surprised eyes to her, "Michael Brumby?"

Sarah nodded.  "You know him, Sir?"  The Admiral nodded, as did his men.  "Is he a good man, Admiral?  Will he make me a good husband?"

"You would marry him?" choked Morris.  The Admiral merely stared at her in utter disbelief.

Sarah explained briefly, "My father made a bet with him some months ago and lost.  I was the wager."

"That's why you agreed to marry the Spaniard?" Morris clarified.  "So you wouldn't have to marry the Aussie?"

She nodded.  "He told me that Lord Brumby already had two wives in Australia.  And that he had tricked my father."  She lowered her head in embarrassment.  "And I at least knew Mr. Galindez' temperament, and he had already proven his honor to me."

Morris replied, "Brumby is not a Lord, Miss.  He uses that title illegally.  And he currently has three wives, not two.  At one time, he had five.  Two of them displeased him in bed, so he murdered them as they slept next to him."  Sarah gasped.  "He would definitely not make you a good husband, Miss MacKenzie."

"Must you be so graphic, Morris?" barked Chegwidden.  He stepped forward and extended his arm to support Sarah.  She looked about ready to faint.  "Would you like to sit down, Miss MacKenzie?"

She shook her head.  "No, thank you.  I'm fine.  I just... need to collect a few things from the house.  And then I will go..." her words trailed off, for she had no idea where she would go.  If she went to town, Brumby would be there, and she would have no choice but to marry him.  If she went to any of her Clansmen in the area, they would have to inform Brumby she was there.  It was a matter of honor.  She knew her only choice was to go with her cousin back to Stirlingshire.  He would see that she married a good man.  "...to Stirlingshire, I suppose," she almost whispered.

Chegwidden instructed two of his men to go ahead of her into the house.  "Make sure it is safe before she follows you," he ordered.

"Aye, aye, Sir!"  The men headed inside and up the stairs. It was easy to see which room belonged to the young woman.  They came back outside and said, "The way is clear, Admiral."

Sarah walked toward the house when she heard Harriett's gentle whisper, "I'm coming with you, Miss."  

Sarah turned to see Harriett's tear-streaked face.  She reached for her maid's hand and squeezed it in appreciation and support.  

They tried hard not to look around as they walked through the house to the staircase.  The sailors helped them climb the stairs... parts of them were now missing.  When Sarah entered her room, she was relieved that it was not in shambles.  Harriett quickly opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and emptied its contents on the floor.  She moved to the wardrobe and took a dress out, folded it and laid it in the bottom of the trunk.  As she moved to get another dress, Sarah stopped her.  "We can't take a trunk, Harriett.  Only a travel bag.  Something that I can carry."  

"You can carry!?  But Miss Sarah!" objected Harriett.  

"You must pack a bag for yourself as well, Harriett.  That is, if you will come with me."

"Of course I will go with you.  Where would that be, Miss?"

"I suppose we will go with Harmon to Stirlingshire.  It is really the only viable choice I have."

"You may pack a trunk, Miss MacKenzie."  The women and the sailors were startled at the Admiral's voice in the doorway.  

"Sir?" Sarah croaked.

"You may pack a trunk," he repeated.  "You have 10 minutes to pack what you wish to bring out with you.  Then we must return to the ships before the tide leaves.  Herdman will blow up the magazine after we are aboard. We must give him time for that and still make the tide."

"Aboard?" Sarah questioned.  "Aboard what?"

"My ship, Miss MacKenzie."

"Stirlingshire is inland, Admiral.  I hardly think that..."

The Admiral interrupted, "Finish your packing, please.  When you are ready, my men will bring down your trunk."  He turned and left the house.

Sarah was stymied.  "How does he expect to take us to Stirlingshire on a ship?" she wondered aloud.  Then she decided, "Harriett, pack the trunk, but I will also take a travel bag with necessities and at least one change of clothing."

"Very good, Miss."

"I'm sure we will have to travel by foot at some point, and then the trunk will have to be left behind."

"Your wedding gown, Miss?  Shall I pack that?" Harriett asked quietly.

Sarah nodded.  "I suppose so.  I'm sure Harmon will marry me off as soon as he can.  It wouldn't do for me to live under his roof for long," she sighed. "I am sure his wife will not like my being there at all."

Ten minutes later, Harriett closed the lid of the trunk.  It wouldn't quite shut, she had packed so much in it.  One of the sailors stepped forward and said to both women, "You go on ahead.  We'll shut the trunk and carry it down."

"Oh, but I need to take something out.  It's too full..." Harriett explained.

The young man smiled at Harriett.  "We'll get it closed, Miss.  You go on ahead with your mistress."  Harriett reached for the travel bag, and the sailor took it from her hand, their fingers touching.  He winked at Harriett, and she blushed furiously.  "I'll get this, too."

"Come, Harriett," said Sarah, smiling to herself.  'He likes her,' she realized.  'A shame I must take her away... but then we will be on the same ship for a short while.  Perhaps...  Hmm...'

The women exited the house and only a moment later, the sailors came out carrying the trunk and travel bag.  Captain Morris saw the travel bag dangling from the sailor's shoulder and laughed, "What's this, Roberts?  You've taken to carrying a purse now?"

The other men laughed, too, and Roberts was a bit flustered.  Harriett hurried over to him and took it off his shoulder as he set the trunk on the ground.  "He was carrying it for me, Sir," she replied, smiling at the young man.  "Thank you, Mr. Roberts."

"It was my pleasure, Miss," he said in turn.

"Harriett," she offered.

"Miss Harriett," he replied.

Sarah's smile widened as she witnessed the exchange.  Chegwidden saw her smile.  'Dear God, she is magnificent.  But will she ever love me?  That is too much to hope for, old man.'  He turned to his men, "Back to the ships!"

When they reached the small dinghies that were tied up at the shore, Morris immediately called out the order people would return to the ship.  Chegwidden interrupted him, changing his orders.  "I will be on the first boat, Morris.  The ladies on the next to last.  Then send a boat back from the Enterprise for Herdman."

Morris nodded, "Very good, Admiral." 

Chegwidden extended his hand to Rabb and said, "Thank you, Rabb."  Rabb nodded to Chegwidden, but he didn't utter a sound. Chegwidden chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye at Sarah.  She was eyeing his ship with what appeared to be delight.  Most women looked at sailing vessels with fear in their eyes.  Perhaps this woman truly did want to be at sea as she let slip before.  Well, she was getting her wish, like it or not.  "Thank you very much, indeed," Chegwidden almost whispered.  He turned then to the women and said, "Ladies, I will see you on board."

Sarah smiled brightly at the Admiral and nodded.  "Harmon, this is so exciting!  I'm going on a real sailing ship!  I've always wanted to go again... since that time as children when Father took you and me on the small ship.  Remember?"  Harmon nodded.  "And to think, I'm going again!"  She almost giggled.  Then she turned back to face her old home.  "Such a shame, though.  The castle looks so empty... so..."  She shuddered when she realized that it would soon be in even more shambles. 

Harmon reached out and pulled her into his embrace.  "Cousin, I love you.  You do know that, I trust?"

She looked up at him.  "Of course I know that, Harmon.  And you know that I love you.  That is why I couldn't marry without your presence."

"You know that I would only do what is best for you, Sarah.  You know that, don't you?" Harmon asked, almost fearfully.

"Harmon, dear.  Cousin, what is it?  What is wrong?"

"Don't you?" he pressed.

"Of course I do, Harmon."  Sarah smiled as she looked back to the ships.  "I do have one question, though.  How will the Admiral get us to Stirlingshire on his ship?  The last I looked at a map, Stirlingshire was inland."

"He's not, Sarah," Harmon replied.

Sarah's smile slipped slightly as she turned back to her cousin.  "He's not... what?"

"Taking us to Stirlingshire."

"Where is he taking us then?" she asked pointedly.

"He's not, Cousin.  He's not taking us.  He's taking you.  You and your maid."

Sarah's smile faded all together now.  "You're not coming with us?"  Rabb shook his head.  "Then where is the Admiral taking Harriett and me?" she pressed.

"With him.  Wherever he goes."

Continue to Part 2