Highlander’s Gypsy Lass (Highlander's 0f Clan Macgregor Book 1)

by Kenna Kendrick

  “Aye, thank ye.” He turned around and planted a kiss on the old woman’s cheek, making her giggle and blush.

  “Ge’ outtae here an’ stay outtae trouble, ye hear?”

  Declan jogged backward a few paces, giving her a farewell smile, before traipsing through the servant’s passages. He came to a stop and paused only long enough to calm his breath before knocking at the door. He could hear whispers within and tried to prepare a clever excuse if someone other than Rosalie or Anna opened up the door.

  To his relief, Anna opened it a crack. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. She tried to close the door on him.

  “Is Rosalie there?” He stopped the door with the palm of his hand.

  “Declan?”

  Anna rolled her eyes and abandoned the door, returning to her stitches. Rosalie’s face glowed with excitement. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other in dumbfounded admiration. It was as if her presence wiped clean all the words he’d rehearsed on the ride over. He collected himself before the silence had a chance to spoil into awkwardness.

  “I was wonderin’ if ye wanted tae take a ride with me?” He cleared his throat. “I know ye have work an’ all—” he looked over his shoulder at Anna sewing at a furious face, her face pinched in a scowl, “but ‘tis a lovely day out, an’ I’d like tae show ye some things.”

  Rosalie bit her lip. She turned towards Anna. Anna looked up from her sewing and saw Rosalie’s face, pleading with her.

  “No, absolutely no’.” Anna’s face burned. “Ye cannae be serious, Rosie. Who’s gonna help me? Hm?”

  “Please, Anna,” she begged.

  “I can send someone tae help ye,” Declan offered.

  Anna stood up and walked over to the door. “Thank ye, but ye’ve helped enough.” She tried to shut the door on Declan.

  The Highlander noticed the embarrassment all over Rosalie’s face and the eagerness to join him. She wanted to come, and despite his better judgment, his desire to get to know her better overpowered the good sense to let her meet her obligations. He wanted to push the matter, albeit hesitantly, and was grateful when Rosalie made the decision.

  “Excuse us a moment,” Rosalie smiled.

  She closed the door between them. Declan strained to hear the two. All he could make out was that they fought in hushed tones. It was difficult to tell who was winning. Impatience raked through him. Elspeth squeezed through the hall around him.

  “Ye go’ ‘em fightin’ now,” she clicked her tongue, teasing him, but never stopped on her busy push through the keep.

  Declan blushed and ran his hands through his hair. He really should be working. That was the worst that could happen—they had to go to work, and he had to spend more time tortured by the what-if’s, and wonderings of who this mysterious traveler woman was, for God only knew how long. It seemed like a lifetime passed as he waited for them to open the door.

  Declan straightened his posture out as he heard it crack open. He stole a glance over Rosalie’s shoulder as she slid out. Anna’s face was red with frustration. She looked as if she was crying, too. If it were any sharper, the look she gave Declan would have killed.

  Rosalie closed the door on the scene as quickly as she could. It was easy to tell she was flustered. Red crept up her creamy clavicles and slender neck. Her hands trembled as she tucked her red curls back into place.

  “Is she goin’ tae be alright?”

  Rosalie looked nervous and took a calming, deep breath before answering. “I think so. I hate fightin’ with her like that.” She gave a weak smile towards Declan, as if uncertain of whether she was making the right decision or not—a feeling he could understand.

  When he smiled at her, though, he saw the joy ripple back through her. Her full lips broke open into a wide grin, bearing a smile that drew attention. Her teeth were straight and uniform, unlike so many of the girls he met.

  “Shall we?” she asked.

  He opened his hand and gestured for her to lead through the narrow hall. “Ye have nice teeth, so ye ken.” Rosalie looked up at him over her shoulder. The perplexed look she gave her made him swallow his words, and a rush of nervousness overcame him, “Odd thing to say, I ken.” He felt the warmth rising in his cheeks, which only made him feel more flustered and awkward.

  Rosalie laughed, and the warmth in her voice relaxed him, “Why, thank ye. It’s a family secret.” She lowered her voice. “Ash,” she whispered.

  “Ye don’ say?”

  “Aye, herbs help too, but Magda assures me I bes’ enjoy it why I can, ‘cause it’s the firs’ thing tae go with age.” Declan tongued his mouth and decided to nod rather than speak. Rosalie, sensing the subject change, pushed the door open and asked, “Where’re we goin’, Declan?”

  He smiled, “It’s a surprise, wee lass.”

  Declan touched the small of her back to guide her. He sensed her body tense with his touch. Warmth spread into her cheeks, and he felt himself stir below the belt at the flush glowing beneath those emerald eyes. She touched her fingers to his and gently moved them away.

  “I’m sorry, it’s jus’…” She blushed and looked around.

  Declan’s mouth flattened into a firm line. He nodded in understanding, unsure of what to say. It was annoying to him that he couldn’t court her like any other girl. The fact that they had to hide everything made him want to shout his affections for her even more. The secret added fuel to the fire burning within him, and he knew it would soon burn too bright to hide any longer.

  Still, her wellbeing was essential to him. The last thing he wanted was to put her in any more danger than he already was. It felt selfish to even ask her of this, but it was a selfishness he needed to indulge—lest it drive him mad with wonder. He compensated with extra vigilance for any of her people as they slipped into the stables.

  Declan clasped his hands around her waist and lifted her into the air. She gave a small, startled cry from losing the ground beneath her feet. His heart jumped at the sound of her nervous laughter as he sat her down in the saddle of his massive steed.

  Rosalie scooted up as Declan swung himself up behind her. Tucked in between his legs and arms, she felt small and fragile. Rosalie tried to tame her hair, looking up at him bashfully.

  “I’m sorry, I got a lot o’ it,” she said.

  He shook his head. It could fly in his face, nearly blinding him, and he doubted he would care. He traced his fingertips over the pale skin peeking between her dress and red hair, helping her push her locks over her shoulder. The air in his lungs froze as he wondered what it would be like to wander a bit further, pulling the laces holding her gown together.

  Rosalie cleared her throat, drawing him back to reality, and took her hair from his hands, tying it into a neat plaited braid over her shoulder. She pulled her hood up to help conceal herself from prying eyes. He wondered if she could feel how hard he was, pressed up against her like that. It was impossible to think straight with her body curving into him.

  Rosalie was grateful when they made it far enough away from the keep and their camp to breathe without fear. All she wanted was to enjoy the ride, and yet, her mind was full, scouring each face they passed by, ensuring it was no one they knew. Still, a feeling gnawing whispered that someone had seen her, and she hoped if her fears were valid, they didn’t recognize her with her hood up.

  Declan’s body was warm around her. She could hardly breathe, let alone speak. She could feel him with each bounce in the saddle. Halfway through the ride, his hand slipped around her waist, pulling him into her. The muscles of her thighs tightened as he touched her. She knew he was aroused; she could feel him pressing into her from behind. The anticipation building in her made the ride torturous. She was so sensitive, each slight movement of his hand on her stomach caused her muscles to tighten, and that warmth flooded her.

  Although it was beautiful out, she could hardly see the landscape. She spent the whole ride trying not to let on how much he affected her. For the first time in her life
, she wished his hand would glide down just a little lower and provide some relief instead of just teasing her. All of this faded when Declan’s horse started up a steep incline.

  Fear washed over Rosalie, and she felt as if she would slip at any second. She looked down, the trail dropped below, and from atop the horse, it seemed a deadly drop. She sucked in air between her teeth and tried to remain calm. Any mistake on her or the horse’s part would send her crashing down to her death.

  Chapter Eleven

  Declan must have sensed her anxiety because he smiled down at her and wrapped her closer into his strong arms. She felt safe with him. Despite the threat of falling, she trusted Declan and his judgment. It made her relax, and soon the adrenaline from the climb mingled with the lust building in her. Energy coursed through her. The journey was exhilarating, and as they summited the rounded peak, Rosalie gaped in amazement at the scene below.

  “It’s beautiful,” she gasped.

  “Aye—no’ as beautiful as you, though.”

  It wasn’t the most creative line, and yet, it caused her to blush once more. She seemed to do that a lot around him and wondered if he would always affect her so. Disappointment overcame her as he stopped his horse and slipped off. She longed to be back, cradled in the safety of his arms. Without Declan pressed against her, the intensity of the desire she felt riding up eased back a little.

  The tall Highlander raised his hands out to help her down. She smiled and jumped. Declan swung her around in a circle as if she weighed nothing at all. When he finally set her down, he grabbed her hand and led her over the curve of an outcropping.

  “No, one’ll see us up ‘ere.” He smiled.

  “Oh, aye, an’ what is it ye go’ planned tha’ ye don’t want no one to see?” Rosalie teased, remembering how hard he was and wondering how long she could resist temptation. Would she be able to stop him if he tried to push her past kissing? She bit her lip, knowing the wise thing to do would be to avoid even kissing him.

  Declan seemed embarrassed by the insinuation that he’d only brought her up there for one thing. “It’s not like that. I want tae ken ye.” She could see the honesty in his eyes, melting what few walls remained between them.

  “I would like that,” she said. “I’d know ye tae.”

  All around them, the hillside rolled in uneven folds, where piled up boulders were covered in a thick layer of moss, joining them into the seamless green flowing downhill, like a river frozen in place. A game trail cut through, showing where the safest footings were. They followed it, sometimes breaking from one another’s hands to lower themselves down by bracing on moss-laden boulders. Often, Declan would go first, then lift her from her pedestal to join him.

  “I don’ even understan’ why ye like me,” Rosalie admitted. “I’m tall an’ lanky an’ clumsy,” she prattled on.

  “An’ yer adventurous,” he smiled. “Tell me, Rosalie, why is it I had tae save ye from the river?” She blushed and didn’t answer. “Wha’ were ye doin’ crossin’ tha’ log?” He raised an eyebrow.

  She sighed, “I wanted to know wha’ was on the other side.” It sounded foolish, reckless.

  “Aye—ye were curious an’ brave.”

  Rosalie returned his smile. For the first time, she felt accepted, like her personality traits were not defects at all—somehow, beneath his attention instead of her family’s, they were strengths instead of weaknesses to weed out. In a burst of glee, she wrapped herself around his arm and squeezed, rubbing her cheek against his hard muscles for a brief moment. Rosalie saw his eyes widen in surprise, then soften in gratitude as he accepted her affection.

  “Tell me, Declan, why aren’t ye married yet? If yer chief…” She let the words trail off. He was young, like her, but she knew the head of clans suffered a lot of pressure to marry and bear children early to secure an heir before disaster could strike and end the line prematurely.

  Declan gave a non-committal shrug. At first, he kept his eyes far away from Rosalie’s steady gaze, as if avoiding the question. When he looked and saw her expression, he sighed, as if realizing she wasn’t going to drop the subject.

  “Trus’ me, Hugh an’ the others have tried.” Rosalie watched his expressions change as he scrambled to find the right words. “It may sound foolish. I ken ma responsibilities an’ what’s at stake.”

  Rosalie squeezed his hand in encouragement. He smiled, then looked off at the landscape. The boulders seemed to smooth out. The moss ran and flattened until other plants and grasses sprouted from it. In the distance, they could see heather and wildflowers overtaking the vibrant green with purple.

  “The truth is…” he looked at her, and she could see this was a serious matter, “I’m picky, Rosalie. Hugh says I’m delusional an’ I hae lofty expectations, but I don’ because I’ve seen it. My ma and pa…” A sadness overcame his mien, darkening the soft lines cutting through his features. “They were bes’ friends. They did mos’ everythin’ together. It weren’t like other couples, where they divvied their lives up an’ spent hardly any time together, save meals an’ beddin’. She were strong; an’ his pride was saved for essential matters. He even helped her with cookin’, Rosalie.” Nostalgia touched a smile back to his lips.

  “It wasnae good, mind ye.”

  The glint in Declan’s eyes made Rosalie giggle. “They sound wonderful.”

  Declan wrapped his arm around Rosalie’s back and looked over the mountains cascading into the horizon. “I want that.” He stared out for a moment as if trying to decide whether to speak more on the matter or keep silent. Rosalie did not press him, hoping he would open up on his own. “Pa said tha’ it was instant.” He was serious. His blue eyes lost somewhere beyond. “It only took a few moments tae know he could spend the rest o’ his life with my mum.”

  “I don’t know if that’s how it works, though, Declan. What they had was rare.” The look he gave her made her swallow her words.

  There was conviction dancing in his blue eyes. “I’ve met plenty o’ lasses that showed me their best, an’ never in all my life have I met someone I can talk tae with such ease. Ye keep me on my feet. Yer special. You get yer hands dirty, an’ make me laugh. An’ there’s still so much fer me tae learn abou’ ye. Ye don’t feel it?” She watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Between us?”

  “I-I do, but ‘tis jus…” The thought embarrassed her. His compliments made her spirit lighten, but its brightness contrasted starkly to the truth. Her head swam with Enoch, her situation, and the feelings she had for Declan. Cursing her fair skin, she wished her face would stop burning and betraying her emotions. Rosalie pulled away from Declan and picked a small white flower. “It jus’ doesn’t work like that. In my experience, yer lucky tae have someone who willnae beat ye an’ that’ll stay off the drink enough tae provide fer ye an’ the bairns.”

  Declan’s mouth twisted a moment in thought. “It doesn’t have tae be like tha’, though.”

  He took a step toward her. Rosalie’s breath caught as she looked up at him, a corona of light breaking around his thick red hair. His height made her feel small, and she could feel her body tremble in his presence. She tried to keep her composure.

  “Oh, aye, an’ I suppose ye’ll sweep me off my feet, Enoch be damned, an’ carry me into the sunset where we’ll live a long, happy life.” Rosalie’s jest fell from her lips when he saw the intense look in his face.

  “Aye, somethin’ like that.”

  Rosalie could hardly look at his eyes. If they stared at each other any longer, she was going to kiss him, and she was sure she knew where that would lead them. Still, she could never ask to leave, not with how he made her feel. Mischief raised her lips in a grin.

  “Well, yer goin’ tae have to catch me first.”

  The young maiden didn’t give him a chance. She bolted as fast as she could downhill, only slowing when the risk of stumbling between boulders called for caution. She peeked over her shoulder and squealed; he was right on her heels. She tried to run faster as
her lungs tightened with sharp breaths.

  Rosalie cried out as her foot caught on a patch of moss. In the next moment, she was tumbling downhill. She rolled over on her back, the blue sky stretching endlessly above her. Another cry, pealing with laughter, cut through her as Declan’s massive form blocked out the light and pounced playfully on her. He wrapped his arms around her.

  Laughter overtook them. The heat from the sprint warmed their necks and cheeks. Their breaths ebbed and flowed in short bursts. Once they started laughing, it was like a spell came over them. The adrenaline escaped in giggling fits.

  “Oh, my side!” Rosalie’s brows raised in a play grimace as she grabbed the stitch forming in her side. Her cheeks hurt too from smiling too long.