Felicity

The carriage rumbled noisily along the road. It had already been a long journey, and my bones were aching from the constant bumping and jostling. If only Aunt Agnes would let me ride my horse. I muttered bitterly to myself. I had never been one for the proper way of doing things. Raised by my uncle after my parents died, I learned more about hunting in the Scottish highlands than I did embroidery. I steal a look over at the man I call my da. Tall, shoulder length dark hair with streaks of gray. Wrinkles set deep around his eyes from years of sun and laughter. He was a good man. The carriage lifts and drops violently, causing my thoughts to abruptly end and my hands to frantically reach for anything to steady myself. This is more ladylike than riding? I snort. Aunt Agnes shoots me a look. She was a hard woman and smart as a whip. Raised the daughter of a Laird, she knew her place in life and walked boldly in it. She entered into our lives like a galleon. Armed and ready for the immense undertaking to transform her new husband into a gentleman and his niece, a lady worthy of their status. For me, I had been content with the life of adventure my uncle's estate had brought. Like healing balm to a wound, the rolling hills, creeks and woods had soothed my aching heart when I first came to Achnacarry. I had very little memories of my parents, what I knew was love and warm arms and that is always enough to tear any child's heart to pieces when they are suddenly ripped away. My uncle had recognized the only peace I could find in such a tender age was within his own arms and the warm, gentle embrace of the land. So he taught me to ride, to hunt, to farm. He took me with him to gather the rents and meet the tenants that made up his estate. Never was I without his guidance or his large hand on my shoulder. When he met Aunt Agnes this all changed. She was horrified at my upbringing and quickly remedied any gaps a lady of Scottish value should possess. She had dutifully spent the last six years on that commission and now sits with pride at the achievement that sits before her. Primped, prodded and squeezed into a dress befitting a noble lady, I feel more like bear in a cage. Annoyance bubbles under my skin as the tight corset digs into my back with every dip and bump of the carriage. Being literally dragged to attend the gathering at Auntie Agnes' home, I knew her sole purpose was to find me a good match within the Macleod clan. I had made the journey once before, over the land and across the sea to Dunvegan castle. Her brother was the Liard and Chief of Clan Macleod and the match between Clan Cameron and Clan Macleod was a good one. I sighed. I was content in my life, only sixteen, I was not ready to become a man's property. In fact, I had hoped with the money my father had left me and the position of my uncle, I would have protection from a forced marriage until I found a true partner and not a stranger. Like Colm, perhaps. Ridiculous. My auntie had scoffed. You are to be married in good match that ties the clan blonds and promotes peace. Your privileges require obligations. Privilege. Obligation. I could not help but feel a little nauseous. They were just fancy words that covered up the fact that I was no better than a dressed up horse. My privilege made me of value and gave be obligations I never wanted. Colm. My wandering thoughts turned sour at the thought of my dear friend I may never see again. The son of my uncle's cook he was my only playmate when I arrived at Achnacarry. We did everything together from spending days in the woods to causing mishief in the castle. He was my closet confidant and closet friend. It had been 1 year since I last saw him. I remember it was late and the rain was coming down in torrents. There was a rap rap at the window. Was it a branch? I cracked the window to find Colm hanging desperately to a vine that clung periloulsy to the stone walls. Quickly grabbing his arm, I heaved him into my room. We sat there breathing hard, the firelight on our faces. I remember being suddenly very aware that Colm was no longer the boy I had spent days in the woods with. He was now a man. His black hair streamed around his face and his dark eyes watched my anxiously. I could feel myself blush as I tugged on my night dress. His chest moved up and down, the damp shirt he was wearing clinging to all the muscles in his chest and stomach. Colm what are you doing here? I had finally choked out. He didn't answer, but instead leaned forward and brushed a piece of hair from my face. He was inches from me, his warm breath on my skin. I love you Lettie. I always have and will do whatever it takes to deserve you. I was taken aback. Never had I expected this confession. Quick like a lark he stood up and in three easy strides was back at the window, a sly smile and wink, then gone into the night. My head spun. He loved me? Me? Did I love Colm? Possibly. We were best friends. Being around him was as easy as breathing. Was that love? That strange night was the last time I saw him. I had heard the next day he boarded a merchant ship bound for the Americas. Days turned into weeks which turned into months and still no word. The empty void still leaves an echo that resonates in my chest every time I think of the last words he said to me. The carriage slammed down, once again waking me from my memories and this time throwing my face against the side wall. I groaned and rubbed the sore skin. A very undignified chortle escaped my uncle's lips immediately followed by a jab to the ribs from his wife. "Ach Agnes, you know my middle is tender. If that one wasn't so lost in her day dreamin' she wouldn't have had such a wakening." My uncle smiled and feigned terrible pains from Auntie Agnes' jab. A small smile showed ever so slight at the corners of her mouth. I watched them carefully. The pair seemed to complement each other well. They moved seamlessly around one another and there seemed to be a good deal of respect. However, the passion one would expect in a marriage of one's choice did not seem to be there. Another sigh escaped my lungs. I did not want to be married off to an old man or even a young one that I had no passion for. I imagined the scene. The night of my forced betrothal I escape by balcony to an awaiting ship bound to take me on countless adventures.... "There, there it is. The sea." My normally stoic aunt exclaims breaking through my reverie. The sea. My breath catches in my chest. The last hurtle until we reach Dunvegan castle and my fate is decided.