Thirty-Three
“Connor, are ye ready?” Miriam asked her oldest son.
Two weeks had passed since she first received word of a crisis. She had been frantic. The memories engulfed her.
“Crisis? What? Who?” she frantically grabbed hold of the messenger’s tunic.
“Milady, yer family is alright. Sir Malcolm requests yer presence immediately at Keisealle.”
“But why, Bailey? What is this crisis?”
He shook his head. He was under strict orders not to mention Lady Madeleine’s death to her. It would upset Lady Miriam for naught. It would take a week to return from the border, anyhow. As it was, it took him and the other soldiers who rode with him five days of hard riding to reach them as quickly as possible.
Miriam recalled Malcolm’s somber face when she arrived. She and Katie dismounted and ran to him.
“What has transpired, Malcolm?” Miriam asked, grabbing hold of his forearm.
“Father, please tell us! We have been frantic this past week of travel!”
He looked at both of them and slowly said the words.
“Maddie is no longer with us.”
Miriam caught on, her face paling, but Katie didn’t understand. Miriam was shaking her head violently in denial.
“But ye havena found her yet? Did that man Binouix take her again?
Katie looked from one parent to the other. Slow awareness crept up on her.
“Nay. Nay! She’s not dead!”
Malcolm sadly nodded his head. He told them about everything that had happened.
“Dear Lord, it has nearly been a month since she died! But why didna anyone come for us sooner!” Miriam cried, tears flooding down her face. Katie was in much the same condition.
“We were trying to find her, and when Connor found and read the letter, he was in denial. I finally decided that reason evaded our son, and so I sent for ye.”
She and Katie went into the castle. They saw Connor sitting by the hearth, a goblet clutched in one hand and Maddie’s letter in the other.
Miriam had called to him and he slowly looked up. Her heart broke when she saw his face. There before her sat the shell of the man she once knew as her son.
His eyes were red rimmed, but when ye looked past that, you saw emptiness.
Bleakness.
Sorrow.
Then he looked away, staring back into the flames. Miriam knew then that consolation was the last thing that he needed or wanted.
She took note of the many changes around her. The clan was disheartened. She first thought that it was her imagination, but it wasn’t. Maddie had had a great impact on Clan Ramsay. The biggest change was with her family. Malcolm was saddened about Maddie’s death, as was she. She cried many times a night. Iain and Kiel were dejected. Though they joked around occasionally, it was a scant minimum. They weren’t in a mood to lighten the somber atmosphere surrounding the clan. Katie cried all the time. She continued to play with the children, but afterwards, she would come in and Miriam had to take her into her arms. Every day she was reminded about Maddie.
Other clan members were taking her death hard. Little Gretchen was sad when she found out that Maddie was gone. It took the child some time to understand that Maddie was gone forever.
“When is she coming back, Lady Miwiwam?”
“She is with God, Gretchen. She is with the angels,” Miriam said, squatting down next to the blond-haired child.
“Gawn with Gawd? Like Momma? She’s with Momma?”
Miriam nodded her head and the young child wailed. She hugged the little girl.
The most affected, naturally, was Connor. He trained hard throughout the day. His men felt their laird’s ruthlessness. At night, he drank heavily, but kept quiet and to himself. The family dinners they’d had once before, he found hard to bear. He no longer joined them after that first night they returned. Katie had wanted to pray before eating.
“I doona want to pray,” he said sourly. He snorted bitterly.
Everyone remained quiet, staring at him.
“It’s a tradition that is important to keep observing,” Miriam said reservedly.
“I doona want to pray to Him! He took her away. Damn Him, if he even exists!” Connor stood up taking his cup, and sat by the hearth.
That was how he spent every evening.
Connor was bitter and cynical. He no longer laughed or smiled. He went to sleep late and woke early.
He was completely aloof from everyone.
“Connor? Are ye ready?” she asked again, standing near him.
Miriam saw his grip on the goblet tightening. His breath grew shallow, and his throat worked as he swallowed hard. He didn’t look up to his mother, but continued to stare at the flames for several more minutes. Connor then stood, walked out of the great room, and into the courtyard outside.
The clan gathered on their burial grounds. It was not just a couple of them there, either. Nay. Every single member of the clan was there. As he walked towards the center, the crowd parted to let him and the family through.
Father Dircan waited with a somber face. Miriam and Malcolm had spoken to the priest, hoping they could convince Father Dircan to give Maddie a blessed and holy burial. Although all the evidence pointed to Maddie killing herself, the fact that there was no body or one-hundred percent certainty of the manner in which she died, gave Father Dircan the latitude to provide her with a ceremonial holy burial.
It was unconventional, but it mattered naught to them. Father Dircan was willing to bend some even if the Church was rigid. Malcolm and Miriam wanted to give their son some closure so that he could move on from this. They all needed to move on from this.
“We are here today, to lay to rest the spirit of Lady Madeleine Ramsay. Although we have no body to bury, this ceremony will bring her pure soul to rest. Lady Madeleine…”
Connor remained silent and stoic. Once Father Dircan finished the speech, a cross with Maddie’s name etched on it was erected. A mountain of flowers was laid before the cross.
Once everything was done, Connor silently left.
He remained uncommunicative, aloof, and withdrawn for months after.