10. Chapter 10 - Kaitlyn
CHAPTER 10 - KAITLYN
THE DINING ROOM OF THE COACHMAN’S REST - 1775
I looked up to see Thomas Jefferson, rising from his table, pulling a blue coat on, gathering his papers and a journal into a small wooden writing desk, and tucking it under his arm. My heart began to race as he made his way towards us.
Magnus squeezed my hand under the table, then rose to his feet as Jefferson approached. It was odd to see him up close, a Founding Father, after seeing him on coins and in paintings all my life. He wasn’t nearly as old and imposing as I would have thought — he was our age; thin, but Magnus’s height; his hair was red, tied back at the nape of his neck; and his complexion was fair with a few light freckles. He was dressed casually for enjoying a meal after a long day of traveling. I glanced at Magnus, he looked handsome, and carried himself well, and me, besides my bruises, I thought I looked well enough.
Alas I had not thought up a good enough excuse for my bruises. I stood, smoothed my skirts, and took a deep breath.
“Your Grace,” Jefferson said with a slight bow. “I hope I am not interrupting your meal.”
“Not at all, Mister Jefferson, and please call me Laird Magnus, and may I present my wife, the Duchess of Awe?”
I bowed my head. “It’s an honor to meet you, please call me Lady Kaitlyn.”
Jefferson said, “The honor is mine, Lady Kaitlyn.”
Magnus said, “Her Grace has tumbled from her horse.”
“Oh my, I do hope you are well, Lady Kaitlyn?”
I nodded. “Yes, Mister Jefferson, I am well enough, though the bruises seem to say otherwise.”
Jefferson turned to Magnus, “I must say, I am intrigued by your proposition, Lord Magnus. It is not every day I meet a Scottish Duke in a lowly inn with barely even a name — the Coachman’s Rest.”
I laughed. “It’s less a name and more an activity.”
Jefferson smiled. “Yes, Lady Kaitlyn, but somehow it has just what we need.”
Magnus gestured for Jefferson to sit. “Please, join us.”
As we settled back into our chairs, our plates were whisked away by the servants. More ale was brought.
He said, “I find it remarkable, Lord Magnus, that you were coming to Monticello for a meeting. You almost missed the opportunity altogether.”
Magnus said, “Aye, this has been verra fortunate. The only misfortune is that I would hae been better attired. Lady Kaitlyn and I are wearin’ our drab travel clothes.”
Thomas Jefferson nodded. “I have only just left home, the drabness of a journey has not quite taken hold.” He looked around the room. “I am fond of this inn, the fare is well done, and the hearth is warm. Although it is near my estate I prefer to stop for the first night, therefore tomorrow’s journey I will make it all the way to Rippin’s Run.”
Magnus asked, “Where is yer destination?”
“To the newly formed Continental Congress in Philadelphia.” He sipped from his ale. “Why did you want to meet?”
Magnus leaned forward. “Tis about the coming… tis safe tae speak here about sensitive matters of war?”
Thomas Jefferson nodded. “Yes, it is, though we ought to keep our voices low for the details. That table there, I am uncertain of their loyalties.”
We all looked over to see three very drunk old men sitting around a table looking bleary-eyed and wobbly-headed, and just then they broke into song.
We laughed for a moment, but then Magnus ran his hands through his hair, and became serious, leaning forward again. “I come with an offer of assistance for your revolution. Many of the Lairds of Scotland chafe under English rule, and we see in your struggle a kindred spirit.”
Jefferson leaned back in his chair. “Go on, Your Grace. What exactly are you proposing?”
Magnus said, “Two warships, with forty guns apiece.”
He said, “Crewed?”
“Aye, with crew. M’men are trained in warfare and eager tae fight.”
Jefferson’s eyes widened. “That is... a most generous offer, Your Grace?—”
Magnus said, “Laird Magnus, please.”
“Yes, Lord Magnus — why would Scotland risk such an offer? You would go against your king?”
Magnus scoffed and leaned back, a smile playing at the corner his lips, that hot sexy crinkle of bemusement beside his eyes. “Ah, Mr. Jefferson, ye speak of ‘our king’ as if we Scots hae ever accepted English rule — we haena. The Acts of Union might hae joined our crowns, but our hearts remain free. I am a Scottish laird, with m’feet upon the lands of the Americas. I hae taken a fondness for these lands and the people who live here.” He squeezed my hand, “...and I always hae an irritation and disregard for the English, especially their kings.”
Jefferson chuckled. “There we have a similar urge.”
Magnus raised his glass of ale. “We see in yer struggle, echoes of our own. The chance tae strike a blow against English tyranny, even from afar, is one we canna pass up.”
Jefferson nodded slowly, his eyes calculating. “I see, and what would the Duke of Awe expect in return for such... generous assistance?”
Magnus spun his drink, watching the liquid spin within it smoothly. “Nothing but an alliance, we might come tae an agreement on future trade considerations.” Jefferson nodded, tapping his fingers on his writing desk.
Magnus downed the last of his drink, slammed the mug back to the table, then whispered, “And perhaps, should we one day seek the overthrow of a king in want of our own independence, ye might remember who stood by ye in yer hour of need.”
Jefferson said, “You speak as if you know the outcome of our war will be victorious, we are not so assured. Our enemy is large and powerful — we cannot promise the Duke of Awe an alliance in a coming day when it is possible our present days are numbered.”
Magnus shrugged. “This is the way of mankind, Mister Jefferson, all our days are numbered. The present is precarious, the future is far off and is never promised tae any of us, though we might want it desperately.” He grinned. “Tis why ye need a friend in Magnus, the Duke of Awe.”
While Magnus was charming Jefferson, I was silently pleading: pick up the quill, write it down, come on, write it down in your book, ‘Magnus,’ need help spelling it?
But Jefferson seemed more interested in conversation and would not open the writing desk for his quill. Instead he finished his drink and to keep him at the table Magnus quickly waved a hand to have the host bring us another round.
Jefferson leaned back comfortably. “This is a bold proposition, Lord Magnus. One that might change the course of this conflict.”
Magnus said, “I am a bold man from a long line of bold men.”
“I have not heard of the Dukedom of Awe. You must have a great deal of land and a large purse to be able to offer war ships.”
Magnus raised his chin — I chose to think he looked like Sean and Lizbeth when he did it so I didn’t have to think about how he took after his mother. “The title was bestowed upon my family by Queen Elizabeth, given tae Lady Mairead, held by Nor, and has been passed down tae myself, and aye, we hae land enough and ships tae spare. All our men are of a fighting spirit, ready tae raise arms against English tyranny at my call.”
He studied us both intently. “It is an intriguing offer, however, I am not in a position to accept such aid without consulting with my colleagues, Messrs. Washington, Hamilton, Franklin, among others. I will be speaking to them at this Continental Congress.”
Magnus nodded. “Of course, I understand. I wouldna expect ye tae make such a decision on yer own.”
My number one priority was now getting some, all, any of this in the written record, Jefferson’s writing desk was right there! Open it up, pick up your pen! Lady Mairead carried a book around with her, she would have definitely been writing about this already.
So I spoke up, already forgetting my vow to be quiet. “Perhaps, Mister Jefferson, if you recorded the details of Magnus’s offer, you could deliver the message to Mister Washington on our behalf? We’d be most grateful. In case you forget the details, you know.” Why couldn’t I stop talking?
Jefferson narrowed his eyes. “From where do you hail, Lady Kaitlyn?”
I forgot this detail, where was I from — could I say Florida? Nope, not Florida, my head spun?—
Magnus said, “She comes from an island off the coast of the continent.”
Thomas Jefferson’s brow furrowed. “She has a distinctive accent and cadence to her speech. I have never heard it before.”
In my head I thought, You could write that down, describe my accent, say I sound weird, please, do it…
Magnus joked, “Whereas I am perfectly understandable.”
Jefferson chuckled. Then said, “But do not be concerned, Lady Kaitlyn, how could I forget such an interesting meeting? I by happenstance spend the evening in a tavern, about to set forth on a journey north, when a Scottish duke enters the room.”
I said, “Sounds like the start of a joke.”
“What do you mean?”
Magnus chuckled. “Aye, Lady Kaitlyn, what dost ye mean?”
“Um… Mister Jefferson, you haven’t heard a ‘man walks into a bar’ joke before?”
His brow raised. “No, I have not heard such a joke, but I appreciate the sport. I have been collecting jests for the upcoming congress. Franklin has a high wit and enjoys a competition, he must be outdone.”
“Oh, yes... good, perfect,” I swiped a loose strand of hair from my face, tucking it back under the bonnet. I felt a little hot.
Magnus looked very amused.
“...a ‘Man walks into a bar’ joke. It begins like this, ‘A man walks into a bar’ and…” I gulped, my mind was completely blank. A joke good enough for Jefferson to tell Franklin? Whoa.
Finally Magnus rescued me. “As Lady Kaitlyn is at a loss, I will relay one that Master Cook told me one night while we were standing upon the walls of Kilchurn looking out over the Loch, guarding, tryin’ tae keep from fallin’ asleep.”
“You guard your own walls, Lord Magnus?”
“A Scottish night often feels as if tis much older and lawless, and I am not a man who can allow other men tae guard without standin’ with them, shoulder tae shoulder. I stand on the walls most nights. Though, likely, tis as much for the calm of the night air and the camaraderie of the other men, as the need tae be watchful.”
“This is an egalitarian spirit, Lord Magnus.” His fingers drummed on his writing desk. I willed him: write it down… but he didn’t open it, refused to open it. “How were you educated?”
Magnus said, “I was sent to London and tutored along with my cousins. I have also spent time in France and…” he glanced at me, “mostly France.”
Thomas Jefferson nodded.
Magnus leaned forward and said, “Now tae the joke, a Scotsman, wearin’ a kilt, his sporran, and with his broadsword strapped across his back, walks intae a tavern in London. The barkeep says, ‘We daena serve yer kind in here.’ The Scotsman says, ‘My kind, what dost ye mean?’ The Barkeep says, ‘Yer kind, the Scots, ye are always swingin’ yer big swords around.’ The Scotsman said, ‘I canna remove it, but I will promise tae keep it tucked up under m’kilt.’”
Jefferson laughed. He said, “This is a scandalous joke to share in front of Lady Kaitlyn.”
I said, “I have been married to a Scottish laird for many long years, I have heard my share of bawdy jokes.”
Magnus said, “Here is another, Mister Jefferson, a verra smart Scotsman walks intae a tavern. First, he gives up his broadsword, for safety, and asks for ten shots of the finest whisky. The barkeep sets ten wee glasses down the bar, each with a shot within. The Scotsman takes the first shot in the row and pours it on the floor. He then takes the last shot in the row and pours it upon the floor as well. The barkeep says, ‘Ye are wastin’ the whisky, why did ye do it?’ And the verra smart Scotsman tapped his temple wisely, ‘Because the first shot always tastes like bollocks, and the last one always makes me sick!’”
Jefferson heartily laughed, then drank some more of his drink, chuckling. “Ah yes, Franklin will enjoy those immensely. I might even get a smile from Adams.” His fingers drummed on the writing desk again.
I said, because I couldn’t bear waiting much longer, “I always forget jokes, I sometimes wish I had written them down.”
Thomas Jefferson nodded. “Adams does cause concern, he is quite stern. He sometimes causes a well-spoken man tae become tongue-tied in his presence. Then once he sees your discomfort, he will lob an insult your way to worsen the cause.”
He finally pulled his small desk closer, inserted a key, and lifted the wooden lid.
My heart rejoiced.
He said, taking out an ink pot, a quill, and a handkerchief, “But I will note your offer, Lord Magnus. It will take a long journey to get to Philadelphia and I will not see Mister Washington for a time. I do not want to lose the details.” He pulled a journal from the bottom of the desk and placed it on the top.
I said, “This is a wonderful desk.”
He opened the book to an empty page. “Thank you, Your Grace, I built it myself.”
Magnus reached in his pocket and passed Jefferson the pen Lochie had given us on his wedding day. “I would like tae offer m’traveling pen for your use.”
Jefferson took it and looked it over. “I have never seen such a thing, where is the ink?”
Magnus said, “Stored inside, tis a good travelin’ implement.”
Jefferson made a very small mark on the corner of a page. “That is… extraordinary. The ink will smudge?” He blew on it and then touched it with his fingertip. “Remarkable!”
With the pen poised over the page, he said, “If you’d like to dictate the details.”
Magnus glanced at me and nodded, leaning forward. “Aye, ‘Tae Mister Washington, I bring greetings and an offer of alliance from Laird Magnus Campbell, Duke of Awe, Scotland.’” He paused waiting for Jefferson to catch up, though he was slow because he kept stopping to marvel at the pen.
Magnus continued, “If ye would add that m’dukedom is centered on lands around Loch Awe, in Scotland, my castle is named Kilchurn.”
Jefferson wrote.
I stared down at my drink trying to do the math, at some point Kilchurn was turned into a ruin, was it in this time or earlier? I really needed Google, but Jefferson didn’t seem to notice any discrepancies.
Magnus said, “‘The Duke offers two fully crewed warships, armed with forty guns each. He seeks only friendship and future trade considerations in return. The Duke can be reached at...’” Magnus leaned back defeatedly. “Och nae, I daena hae an address yet as we are travelin’. We mean tae stay for a time in Charlottesville, I think.”
Jefferson smiled, looking up from his writing. “You must stay at the Oakhurst Inn on Main Street. Tell Jacob Taylor that I sent you.”
I said, “That sounds perfect, add that as our address, that’s where we’ll be. And the date, we will be there… um… indefinitely.”
Jefferson continued writing, then asked, “Is there anything else you would like me to include?”
Magnus peered across at the page, and repeated the details, “Nae, as long as ye hae m’offer of assistance, includin’ m’title: the Duke of Awe, Magnus Campbell, and his wife, Lady Kaitlyn, and that we will be staying at the Oakhurst Inn on Main Street in Charlottesville, on this date.”
Jefferson nodded and out of habit blew on the ink to dry it.
Magnus leaned back. “Thank ye, and please tell Mister Washington that whenever he is available, I will be happy tae meet with him.”
Jefferson nodded, jotting down the additional information. Then he held the pen up to the weak light of the oil lamp and looked at the pen from all angles and then he wrote some more.
I nudged Magnus’s knee. Jefferson was writing about the pen in his journal. This was all very helpful.
Finally, he said, “Very well. I’ll ensure this reaches Mister Washington’s hands directly.” He blew on the page again and then used his finger to gently touch the ink. “This pen is truly remarkable, Lord Magnus. Might I inquire where you acquired it?”
Magnus smiled. “Alas, they are sold in a small market near Loch Awe, but ye can hae this?—”
I nudged Magnus’s knee to stop him and said, “My apologies, Mister Jefferson, but that was a gift from a dear friend, it means a great deal to me.”
Magnus said, “Aye, I had forgotten, I canna part with it. Tis a closely held valuable in our family.”
Jefferson said, “Of course, absolutely.” He passed the pen back to Magnus, placed all his things into the writing desk, closed the lid, and stood.
Magnus stood and they both bowed. Jefferson said, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Kaitlyn, Lord Magnus,” and then he left the tavern for his room.