Trapped Under his Highland Spell: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Tales Of Highland Might Book 4)

by Ava McArthur

  Jamie and Marcas walked out of one door, while she and Niall walked out of another. He led her up a curving staircase; she was glad to be alone with him. As they passed windows, she glanced out at the dark and unfamiliar landscape and thought about what Grizel had said about the malevolent spirits, and wondered if there was any truth in her words.

  It wasn’t long before they reached her room. It was one of many rooms located down the long hallway. Banners, tapestries, and various weapons adorned the walls. Niall opened the door for her; as she walked into the room, her body brushed his. She was filled with a sense of his warmth and caught his scent, which played havoc with her mind.

  The room was plain in nature, with a bed, a closet, and a mirror. A single shuttered window opened the room to the wider world. A candle burned beside the bed, illuminating the room in soft amber light. Shadows danced upon the wall. Her chest with her belongings had been placed near one wall.

  “This shall be yer room for the night, although I assure ye, my chambers are far more comfortable,” Niall said.

  She wasn’t sure how ready she was to think about the wedding night and all that entailed. As she moved further into the room, she caught the scent of flowers and smiled as she spied some sitting near the window. Above the bed was a wreath made of sticks and red berries. She smiled widely and turned to Niall.

  “Are all the rooms decorated this beautifully?”

  Niall stifled a smirk. “Ah, sae the lady does speak.”

  Moira frowned and tilted her head, silently asking him to elaborate, which he did. “Ye barely said a word through dinner. I thought that I might be marrying a mouse rather than a woman!”

  Moira blushed and averted her gaze. “Ye and Marcas seemed tae hae a lot tae talk about.”

  “Aye, well, we hae done enough talking over the negotiation table, and I’m sure there will be plenty of time for ye tae talk tae me as well. After all, we are gaeing tae spend our lives taegether, and it all beings taemorrow.

  As for yer question, aye, most of the rooms are decorated like this because Grizel insists on protecting the rooms from the spirits she is sae fearful of. Frankly, I think it’s all a lot of nonsense, but she is an elder and haes served our family for a long time. It doesnae take much tae put up a few flowers here and there, but I wouldn’t pay much attention tae it if I were ye. She’s always been rambling on about one superstition or another.”

  “Some superstitions can be comforting,” Moira said.

  The expression on Niall’s face changed when she said this, as though a troubling thought passed through him, but he didn’t speak about it with her. Instead, he smiled and bid her farewell for the night, suggesting that she rest since it was going to be a busy day tomorrow. He bowed again, but this time he did not kiss her hand even though she wished that he would.

  Was it improper for her to think that way about a man she had just met, even though he was going to be her husband? There were so many thoughts and doubts and hopes swirling inside her mind that it was quite exhausting. She wished Kirsten was with her so that she might benefit from her sister-in-law’s wisdom. Had Kirsten felt these feelings when she had first met Marcas, or was this something strange?

  Moira didn’t know how to focus her feelings, and she wished that Niall had remained so they could continue talking. Her mind was so alive that she knew she wasn’t going to sleep much that night, but tossing and turning in bed felt like so much wasted energy.

  As she stared at the ceiling, her attention was drawn to the wreath. She wondered if spirits really did exist, and if so, how was this wood supposed to protect her from them? Grizel was like nobody she had ever met before.

  She seemed so convinced that spirits existed and that there was more to this world, and yet Niall dismissed her thoughts without hesitation. It was likely that she was just some strange old woman whose mind had been twisted with delusions, but there was a part of Moira that wanted to believe in the impossible.

  For example, a marriage that brokered peace turning into one that was filled with love.

  5

  When Moira awoke, she first thought that she was waking up in the same bed as she had woken up in every morning before this one, but as soon as she opened her eyes, she knew it was different.

  She swung her legs over and went to the window, opening the shutters. The world before her was one that was familiar to her, but she was now seeing it from a different perspective. She recognized some of the sights in the distance, but they were being presented to her at a new angle.

  She breathed in the scent of the flowers. In the light of the morning, the thought of malevolent spirits prowling the forest seemed strange. It was no wonder that Niall dismissed these ideas. However, she had survived the night in this new place, so perhaps there was something to be said for the protection of rowan wood after all.

  A little while after she had woken up, there was a knock at the door. It was a servant with some breakfast, a little something to settle the stomach before her wedding. She was due to spend the morning alone getting ready, with the wedding to take place in the afternoon, leading to a big feast that would last for the rest of the day.

  When she poked her head out of the window, she could hear bards practicing their tunes. The Calbraith clan wasn’t as prosperous or wealthy as the Monroe clan, and this had always been something that had precipitated the conflict between the two.

  The Monroes had been one of the first clans to settle in the area and thus laid claim to a lot of land. By the time the Calbraiths rose, there wasn’t as much of it to go around, and they thought the Monroe clan should share some of their land more equitably.

  Through the years, territory was taken and recaptured again and again until borders were drawn. The Calbraiths had been ruthless and desperate, always seeking to take what they wanted, which led to many battles, including one that had claimed the life of Moira’s father. But with the recent peace, Marcas had made some concessions that would allow the Calbraith clan to generate some more wealth, and they seemed to be sparing no expense for the wedding.

  She hoped that she could temper this greedy streak and teach the Calbraiths to be happy with what they had. Niall certainly seemed of the same mind, and she hoped that their marriage could preside over a peace that would last for generations.

  It was around midday when there was a knock at the door. Marcas stood there and had a look of awe on his face when he saw Moira in their mother’s wedding dress. It ended up fitting Moira perfectly, although she hoped that her marriage would end up being more like Kirsten and Marcas’s rather than suffering the tragic end of her parents’ marriage.

  “Ye look just like her!” Marcas gasped as he moved into the room and stood in front of Moira. “All ye need is longer hair.”

  Moira smiled. She didn’t need to ask him who he was talking about. All their lives, they had mirrored their parents; Marcas had taken after their father, and she had taken after their mother. But after their mother’s treachery was revealed, Moira had hacked off her hair and kept it short, vowing to never be like that woman, even if she had ultimately put her children first. But she could do nothing about her features.

  “Thank ye, Marcas,” she said, knowing that Marcas had intended it as a compliment.

  “I am sorry I didnae come up here earlier. I got caught up speaking with Niall about some trade routes he hopes tae begin. Ye know how it is, one thing leads tae another, and then ye realize that half the day haes passed! How are ye feeling?”

  “A wee bit nervous, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Niall seems nice.”

  “Aye, he’s just about the nicest Calbraith I’ve ever known tae live! Well, except after taeday, then that honor will fall tae ye.”

  Moira nodded as she realized that her last name would change as well. She would be Calbraith in everything but blood.

  “I want ye tae know that no matter what happens, I will be there for ye,” Marcas said in a low voice. “I want this peace tae last as much as anyone, but it is a
lso difficult tae forget the history that exists. As much as I hate tae admit it, part of me is almost waiting for all of this tae fall apart.” Moira saw the fear in his eyes and was quick to reassure him.

  “I wilnae let that happen, Marcas. I’ll make sure there is peace here.”

  Marcas smiled. “And if that’s impossible, get word tae me. I’ll come for ye, no matter what,” he said. He held Moira’s hands tightly and kissed her on both cheeks.

  This is going to be the most difficult goodbye of all, Moira thought sadly.

  They went downstairs and into the hall of the castle. Moira hadn’t been sure what to expect since she had only known one wedding, and that one had been a muted affair with Marcas wanting to get the whole thing over and done with as quickly as possible at the time. But Niall didn’t seem to be of the same mind.

  Moira and Marcas entered the hall to the sound of a light, merry tune and the sight of a crowd of people applauding her. Moira blushed; she had never been treated like this before. She smiled and was glad that people were happy to welcome her into the clan. Niall was standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for her to join him.

  When she stood beside him and looked up at him, making her vows, she felt the heavy weight of emotion settle over her heart. The promises she made were solemn and binding. She had a responsibility not only to Niall, but to the two clans—as well as the Highlands. If the Monroes and the Calbraiths could come together in peace then it showed that there was hope to end any disagreement, no matter who was involved.

  Moira tried to forget all that and focus on the man she was marrying. When she looked at him, she was filled with a churning feeling in her stomach, but it didn’t feel wrong. Even though this was a means to an end for him, she hoped that he might come to love her. This was her life now, and she was determined to make the most of it.

  Their hands were bound together, and they were presented to the crowd as Laird and Lady Calbraith. As her small hand was plunged into the large and warm hand of her husband she felt safe, just like when she was holding the hand of her father, so many years ago.

  Even though Niall was standing tall and no one could see it, the way he was holding her hand revealed a certain affection that only she could tell. She felt as if they were hiding in plain sight, and hope filled her heart.

  * * *

  Moira shed her youth and her past as she embraced the future, a future where she had a new name and a new purpose.

  Marcas looked upon her with pride as she and Niall walked away from the room into another hall where food had been laid out. The other guests followed and took their seats, although none of them ate until Niall and Moira took their first bites. The mood was a happy one. So many people came up to congratulate them that each of their faces was a blur, and Moira was afraid that she wouldn’t remember any of them.

  “Dinnae worry about that,” Niall said when she expressed her concern. “There’s plenty of time for ye tae learn all of their names. For now, just try tae enjoy the feast.” Moira was becalmed by his words, and Niall was certainly throwing himself into the spirit of things.

  The music added to the atmosphere and people were dancing—except Jamie, who stood in the corner watching over everything, almost expecting trouble. Isobel, Niall’s sister, looked beautiful, and she commanded the attention of all the men in the room. She danced like a sprite, floating in between various men, offering them a glimpse of heaven before she moved away.

  By the end, she had a trail of people following her and she wore a smirk at times, as though she enjoyed the attention. Moira wondered what it would be like to be that confident and to enjoy the company of that many people. However, she was glad that Niall had a sister as it gave her hope that she could form a friendship with Isobel just as she had formed a friendship with Kirsten.

  Throughout the evening she glanced towards Marcas, who offered reassuring smiles. He was sitting at a separate table from her and seemed to be enjoying himself, or as much as he could, anyway. As the leader of a rival clan, he garnered much attention, so there were plenty of people who wanted to speak to him. He seemed content to leave Moira in the company of her new husband.

  The food was delicious, and Moira basked in the happiness of it all. Niall was clapping his hands along to a song when the rhythm shifted and his eyes went wide.

  “This is one of my favorites!” he cried, and grabbed Moira’s hand, dragging her into the middle of the room. There was a cheer as the married couple took to dancing. Niall held her close, wrapping his strong arms around her, holding her tightly as they swayed to the music.

  Moira couldn’t help but smile as she felt the comfortable pressure of his hands resting against the small of her back. When she gazed into his eyes she knew that things wouldn’t be that bad at all, and that her life was going to be just fine. With Niall, she felt safe. There was still much to discover about her new husband, but Moira had always enjoyed learning new things; she was certain that this lesson would be most enjoyable.

  “Ye look like ye fit right in here,” Niall said in a low voice as they danced.

  Moira blushed. “I hope sae. I never thought I would be anywhere like this. I hae never been one tae display myself in front of a crowd.”

  “Well, ye need tae change that. Ye are a symbol of the future, Moira. Because of ye, there will be peace between our clans.”

  Moira felt a pang in her heart again. Was that all he cared about? It was certainly a noble attitude and one that should be commended, especially from a Calbraith, but was that all she meant to him? Was he interested in getting to know her? Did he care about her at all?

  The world became a blur as she was spun around in the arms of her husband. Her world now was filled with laughter, gleeful smiles, and him. The rest of the hall melted away, as did the rest of the clan. The music lifted them up. Every instinct in her body told her that she needed to be with him.

  It was as though she was possessed with some ethereal force. Nothing like it had ever happened to her before and it was quite overwhelming, although not entirely unwelcome. The surge of emotion and energy made her feel warm. Her skin glowed and soon enough, her face was aching from smiling so much.

  She was out of breath when she returned to her table. Niall took a huge swig of ale and then slammed the mug down in triumph. It was then that Marcas came to their table. Moira’s heart ached, as she knew that this was going to be goodbye.

  “It’s time I get on my way. I want tae get home before it’s tae late,” Marcas said.

  “Ye can always stay another night,” Niall offered.

  “Thank ye, but I want tae get home tae Kirsten and the wee ones,” Marcas then turned to Moira. “Ye looked beautiful taeday. I’m glad ye are happy, Moira. I hope that ye can always keep smiling.”

  “I’ll dae everything in my power tae make sure she does. Dinnae worry Marcas, yer wee sister is in good hands,” Niall said as Moira blushed. He placed his hand on hers and squeezed. Moira swooned and looked down at how his larger hand encompassed hers, as though it was swallowing hers up.

  She felt a knot in her stomach and a lump in her throat, but they weren’t the kind borne from fear. On the contrary; her body was excited for what came next.

  Marcas departed, and while Moira was filled with sorrow, she tried to be pragmatic about the situation and accept that this was the way things had to be. There was no point in wasting her time moping about the life she had lost because she could not return to the Monroe clan. She was a Calbraith now, and this was her home.

  The celebration continued. The musicians didn’t seem to tire at all. Everyone was in good spirits and the Calbraith home wasn’t at all what she expected. After all she had heard about them over the years, she thought it would be a tomb of horrors, but instead, they were just ordinary people like the ones in her clan.

  The hours dwindled and people began to leave the feast. Isobel was laughing, telling a story that had captured the attention of a number of men. Given how a few women were sitting near
by, scowling, it was obvious that the men had been drawn to her.

  Jamie had barely moved from the table of food, watching everything like a hawk. Moira didn’t think she had seen him dance or speak to anyone else the entire night.

  “This haes been a wonderful evening, but I think it’s time we retired,” Niall said. He rose and offered his hand. She took it, her heart thumping. She swallowed her nerves and smiled shyly as they walked out of the feasting hall and through the cold, empty hallways of the castle. It was almost time for their wedding night.

  Moira had heard about the union between a man and a woman. The kitchen maids always gossiped freely and didn’t seem to care much who overheard what they had to say. Some said it was the most wonderful thing in the world, while others said that it hurt. Some loved it, while others said it was just simply a way to produce children. Moira wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

  All she knew is that when she looked at Niall, she was overwhelmed with a feeling to be close to him. This overpowering feeling wasn’t something she could deny or push aside, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It felt natural, so she embraced it.

  They arrived at Niall’s chambers. It was far more decorative than what she had been given for her first night in the castle. There were candles burning to offer light, while a wreath hung over the bed just as in the other room. There were other flowers here too, offering a light scent. A fur rug was on the floor in front of the fireplace, and the bed was wide. Armor hung on the wall, as did an ax. There was also a jug of ale.

  Niall poured himself a mug and offered the jug to Moira, who declined. He shrugged and came towards her, toasting to a future that they could share together. As the candlelight illuminated his features, Moira was quite certain that he had been plucked from a dream she had once.