The Last Rose

Trì

It rained every day for three days more.

Crìsdean and I washed dishes in the moist grass and ran inside when it started to pour, always soaked by the time we made it back into the castle. We slipped in mud, tripped over stones and entered the kitchens in a state.

I couldn't remember the last time I was warm.  There were still dark patches on my skirt but at least they weren't damp anymore.  Maili gave me and Crìsdean hot cups of water as soon as we came in and sat us by the fire.  Although it took less than a minute for us to run indoors we still got wet enough to catch a chill, worrying Maili no end.

It was a quiet day; most of the guests were leaving or were so hungover they weren't out of their beds. The parties had been going on for days.

'You'd best stay out of Seonag's way today,' Crìsdean said.  He was slurping his water so loud that other maids were looking up with disgust.

I nodded in agreement.

Maili nodded too.  'Why don't you pick the berries for pudding tonight?  I was meant to do it but I can do something else instead.'

Anything to get out of that damned kitchen.  'Thanks Maili, you're my saving grace.'

She giggled and flapped her hand as if I had given her the biggest compliment imaginable.  She was far too sweet for anyone; always kind and that was always taken advantage of.  I tried my best to make her say no to people, but it wasn't in her nature.  She was most definitely a rose amongst thorns.

'I'll go straight away,' I decided, 'while this rain holds off.'

Maili and Crìsdean got back to work while I wrapped a tartan scarf of Maili's around my head and shoulder to keep any stray raindrops at bay.  I grabbed a basket and dashed out the door before Seonag returned for round two.

The grass was full of droplets from the earlier shower and the trees were still raining on anyone who passed under them.  I did my best to avoid getting wet again but failed miserably.  By the time I reached the raspberry bushes on the outskirts of the castle walls my feet were once again sopping and the hair around my face stuck to my skin.

With shivering red fingers I plucked ripe berries from the plants, pricking myself once or twice.  I hardly felt it though, what with burning my fingers most every day in the kitchen for the last three years.

Soon the basket was half full of raspberries so I trudged further up the shallow hill to the blueberry bushes.  These were further into the dark trees, almost hidden to anyone not knowing where to look.  But I had been there many times and was barely paying attention to where I was going.  My shoes squelched in the damp dirt, the bottoms of my skirts stroked with mud.

A squeal halted me in my tracks.

There was no one here, surely.  Still, I scanned amongst the foliage and rocks and saw no one.  Now I really was going mad.  At this rate I dreaded what state I'd be in by the end of the day.

But then I heard it again.  This time I knew exactly what it was.  It was a moan of pleasure. Someone had sneaked off into the woods with their lover.  I couldn't help but imagine myself stealing away with a man, and the thought making my chest tight.

Now, whether or not to interrupt them?

I couldn't help but look closer into the distance.  Curiously got the better of me.

With caution I tiptoed through the trees, rustling leaves and dead plants beneath damp shoes. I had a good idea of where this couple would be; the kitchen maids often whispered of a secluded bank in the forest where they had been taken by their lovers. I followed the trickle of the stream to where large outcrops of moss covered rocks grew. I halted.

With my back grazing lichen and deep green leaves I inched around the rock. My heart hammered in my chest at what I was doing. Did I even want to see what was just there?

A deep moan made my eyes widen. I jerked a hand to my mouth to cover giggles that were fighting to be released and dropped the basket of berries by my feet with a soft thud. I crept around the rock.

They were on the ground. I peered closer in an attempt to distinguish who it was. The man was covering most of the woman beneath him, wriggling around on top of her, clothed of course. His dirty white shirt was soaked to his body, his kilt bunched up and dangerously close to revealing something I did not want to see.

I was careful to stay a good distance away. Nothing could be more embarrassing than being caught gawking at this couple.

The woman's long auburn hair was spread around her head like flames from a fire. She had on a dress much fancier than mine; deep purple like the heather and navy like the lochs. Obviously expensive. For a split second I caught sight of her pretty face, pink and freckled before it was once again hidden by the man's back

I couldn't help the seed of envy that sprouted in my chest. How I wished I were like this woman: beautiful, desired and moneyed. I backed further behind the rock so that I could only see a slither of the scene in front of me.

Suddenly a crow cawed and a branch snapped to the side. The couple jerked up and I caught my jaw slackening.

As quickly and quietly as I could I snatched my basket of berries off the ground and ran. My skirts snagged on fallen branches and thorns. Leaves slapped my cheeks and caught in my hair.

'Cac!' I hissed. My foot twisted in a dip in the ground, leaving it radiating with pain. I sat down on the damp forest floor and moved it around, grimacing with every movement. This was all Alasdair's fault!

It was his fault I was being punished by Seonag, his fault my mother was breathing down my neck about marriage, his fault I had ruined my clothes running away from him. Honestly, who took a girl where anyone could fall upon them? A laird's son should know that better than anyone else. What would he have done if that girl's father had found them?

He was an idiotic boy, plain and simple, who acted in a way that no laird's son should act.

That wasn't all that annoyed me though. I didn't want to acknowledge it but it niggled at the back of my thoughts. You thought you were special, the voice nagged. You're no different to every other servant in that castle. The thought hit me hard.

Of course I wasn't anything special; I was the lowest of the low. A woman. A kitchen maid. No father. Born out of wedlock. A MacDonald only alive because they were taken in by some MacIvers.

Of course Alasdair didn't see me for anything more than I was; he wasn't stupid. Not in that way at least. What was stupid was pretending that anyone higher than a stable boy could think anything of me. This was the last time I let my imagination run away with itself.

With a pathetic huff I pulled myself up and with as much dignity as I could muster I walked back toward the castle looking like I'd been dragged through a bush backwards.

-

Cac pronounced CACK
Gaelic for shit