by Quinn, Paula
He heard another male voice, and then Cameron’s! The white fog was dissipating. He watched a hooded figure bent over and pulling Cameron up the rest of the way.
“How did ye find us, Son?”
Cameron’s son, Raphael.
“I followed yer voice.”
The one who came out in search of Elysande!
“My daughter!” Cain said from the ground, taking a moment or two to gather his breath and calm his muscles. “Did ye find her?”
“Yer daughter is fine and in good care thanks to Adam, one of yer shepherds. She is restin’ and anxiously awaits word of ye.”
“Restin’ from what?” Cain asked, straightening on his feet.
“I found her lyin’ in the snowdrifts. She was close to death.”
Cain gasped and stepped back. “Take me to her!”
The young Cameron agreed but checked to make sure his father could make the journey.
“Today, ye were given a gift of findin’ folks in a storm,” Cain gave in on the way up the hill and said something Father Timothy would approve of. “Ye arrived just in time to save my daughter and yer father. God is good.”
“Aye, He is,” Raphael replied. “I am verra thankful to have found them both. They are important—”
Cain’s expression suddenly grew dark. “Who is Adam? I dinna have a shepherd by that name.”
Neither one remarked but turned to the silhouette of different sized cottages on the hill and then they ran.
Chapter Seven
Elysande stood at the entrance to the kitchen and spread her gaze out over the great hall. It was lit by candles and warmed by the hearth fire. She looked around at the faces filling the hall from the main entrance. Not just her kin but all the villagers and their children living within the walls of the stronghold. She loved living here with all of them, celebrating with people she loved and who loved her.
It was Hogmanay and feasts and merriment were underway. Quail pottage had been prepared by her and the other women in her family, along with crannachan, made with fresh raspberries, honey, and whisky. There was crowdie cheese and oats, basil salmon pâté and spinach tarts, not including various other dishes and desserts.
She’d helped dress the tables in white ribbon and green laurel. She’d placed candles with care inside wreaths made of pine and their cones. Everyone had a place. Everyone had a seat. Her handsome Uncle Nicky and his wife, Julianna, made sure of it.
Elysande’s gaze swept to the table where the three brothers usually sat with their wives. Uncle Torin and his wife hadn’t yet arrived. She knew the stories of her uncles’ pasts, how the English tore their family apart when they were young children and set each on a different path. She knew her father grew up on the battlefield, Uncle Torin had grown up alone and fighting for his life every day, and Uncle Nicky was a servant with no voice and no kin. She knew what the brothers had endured. But they rose high above it and helped turn the tides of the war for independence in King Robert’s favor.
She wanted them to have peace. They deserved it.
She searched the other tables, but Raphael hadn’t yet arrived.
The aroma of hens and capercallies roasting and various bread puddings baking permeated the air and filled Elysande’s head with thoughts of eating. She’d been cooking and baking with her kin all day. Now was time to enjoy the fruit of her labors.
She pulled off her apron and smoothed out any wrinkles in her green skirts and embroidered kirtle.
It was going to be a night of celebrations, including the traditional first-footing. They would all visit their neighbor’s home. It boded well if a tall, dark man was the first to cross one’s threshold after midnight.
Elysande was certain many households wanted Raphael to be the first to visit.
She found him entering the hall and yanked off her baking bonnet. She patted her soft waves and she sized him up, admiring him from across the distance. He wore a loose léine, open at the collar. It had billowing sleeves that reached his long, broad fingers. He wore a black and green, short, sleeveless tunic belted at the waist. Elysande’s grandmother, Berengaria, crafted the tunic.
He took a step toward her, as if he could not defy the temptation. His muscular legs were encased in snug, black hose and boots that reached his calves.
Elysande wanted to run her hands over him and feel the steel from which he was crafted.
He was intercepted by her cousins, Elias, Galeren, Joel, and Robin. They didn’t go to him in anger but in friendship and with laughter and drinks.
“He has been accepted into the fold,” Uncle Torin said, appearing beside her, watching with her. “There will be peace at last.”
Elysande smiled and felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. Apparently, Raphael’s father asked forgiveness for killing Amish MacRae, her father’s friend. There was a bit of trouble for a little while about Adam the shepherd who led them out of the storm and into the cottage and warmth. There were seven shepherds who lived just outside the stronghold, guarding the sheep. None of them were called Adam. None of them matched the description Raphael gave.
Father Timothy and Brother Simon believed Adam was an angel, sent to save Elysande. Her father and others were a bit more skeptical until grandmother Berengaria claimed to have seen Adam twice. One of those times was Christmas day when she saw him inside the stronghold.
When questioned about what she knew of him, she shrugged her delicate shoulders and replied, “He comes and he goes.”
Elysande greeted Aunt Braya when she approached, looking like a radiant angel in a pale coral gown and her hair pinned up above her head like a bright halo. Elysande smiled when her uncle dipped his wife backward and kissed her.
“Ye enter a room and I can breathe again,” he told her as he escorted her to her chair.
Elysande sighed as they took their seats and leaned closer to each other to speak more intimately.
She would have such romance with Raphael! Tonight, she would tell her father.
He hadn’t said whether he believed Raphael about the angel or not, but he told everyone what Raphael had done for her and for his father. He would accept a peace treaty with the Camerons but he still didn’t want her spending too much time with Cameron’s son.
She had never defied her father before, but she spent as much time with Raphael as possible. They snuck off together many times during the twelve days he and his father were here. They kissed and laughed and kissed some more. They spoke about a future together and even planned a family. Elysande felt as if she’d known Raphael for years instead of days. She wanted no one but him as a husband. She wanted her betrothal to Hugh Tanner broken and she wanted her father’s blessing when she became a Cameron. She knew it was a lot to ask. But she would marry Raphael with or without her father’s support. She would prefer to have it.
Suddenly, there was a flutter of giggles around her. Adela and her younger sister, Geva, along with other gels from the village. Their giggles had to do with Raphael, of course. His slow, confident gait oozed strength and sensuality. How would she tell them all that Raphael was hers?
Her eyes cut away from the girls as if with a will of their own to him, trying politely to break free of her cousins and get to her. She giggled that this was what their life would be like, filled with family.
Her father stood up from his seat and held up his arm for silence.
Elysande’s heart pounded hard in her chest. Her feet began moving, taking her to her cousins’ table. Raphael met her there and they shared a bold smile. She turned to her cousin, Elias, and caught the wink he tossed her. She had told him about loving Raphael and telling her father. He promised to stand with her and urged her not to fear.
“There is somethin’ I wish to say this night,” her father began. “To my family. To my friends. First to my brothers.” He looked down at them and raised his cup of warm wassail. “My entire childhood was spent prayin’ to find ye both. It didna happen until we were men, hardened by life and by the world. We lived through much—
but here we are, together, a family. With us are our wives, strong determined women who sought our hearts in the wasteland and pulled us back to life.” He lifted his cup and the people cheered again. He spoke to Father Timothy, his loyal and truest friend, Brother Simon, who burst from his spot at the table and ran, terrified at the cat under his chair.
Elias rose from his chair right away to rescue the cat from the howling man.
People laughed and, finally, when Elias held the cat securely, so did Brother Simon.
“I want to let ye all know that Robbie Cameron and I signed the treaty of peace between us.” More cheering. Then, “I’m thankful fer ye all,” he continued. “I’m thankful that my brother and I found one another. I’m thankful fer a good, loyal, lovin’, beautiful wife who can set me flat on my arse when she wants to!”
Everyone laughed.
“I’m thankful fer my friends, old and new. And mostly, I’m thankful fer my children—all our children. They will do better things than we did.
“And lastly, I’m thankful that God brought a man of courage and integrity here to the stronghold.”
He set his sapphire eyes on Raphael and Elysande’s heart quaked so hard she was sure everyone could hear it.
“I revoke my daughter’s betrothal to Hugh Tanner and offer her hand, if she wishes, to Raphael Cameron.”
For a moment, Elysande just stared at him, and then at Raphael, and then at Hugh—who must have known about this because of his lowered gaze and silent tongue.
“D’ye wish it?”
“Aye!” She wasn’t sure whom she answered, but she said it loud enough for everyone’s ears. She leaped into Raphael’s arms and let him kiss her face. Her father gave his blessing! Not only for her to marry, but for her to marry a Cameron!
Truly, it was a miracle.
She looked up with a heart filled with thanks, and then she laughed when all her cousins and friends swallowed her and Raphael up in their arms to congratulate her.
She had everything she could ever desire right here in the great hall of the even greater MacPherson stronghold.
The End
About the Author
Paula Quinn is a New York Times bestselling author and a sappy romantic moved by music, beautiful words, and the sight of a really nice pen. She lives in New York with her three beautiful children, six over-protective chihuahuas, and three adorable parrots. She loves to read romance and science fiction and has been writing since she was eleven. She’s a faithful believer in God and thanks Him daily for all the blessings in her life. She loves all things medieval, but it is her love for Scotland that pulls at her heartstrings.
To date, four of her books have garnered Starred reviews from Publishers Weekly. She has been nominated as Historical Storyteller of the Year by RT Book Reviews, and all the books in her MacGregor and Children of the Mist series have received Top Picks from RT Book Reviews. Her work has also been honored as Amazons Best of the Year in Romance, and in 2008 she won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for Historical Romance.
Website:
pa0854.wixsite.com/paulaquinn
