Highlander's Ancient Vengeance (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance)

by Adamina Young

  “Ailie!" He came up to her and kissed her cheek. “Come and taste the roast pheasant. I should not really say this, but the best food is always served at funerals!”

  “No, Jock," she replied. “You should not say that. It is a most insensitive remark, and I hope the Laird does not hear you say such things.”

  Jock arched his eyebrows in curiosity. “And why do you care what the Laird thinks?”

  “I care about his feelings, as I would care about anyone in the same situation," she replied calmly. “He has just buried his mother, Jock. Show some compassion.”

  Jock looked contrite. “You are right as usual, my sweetheart," he sighed, then gave her the sweetest smile he could muster. “I am a heartless brute and it is good of you to remind me of it!”

  He’s doing that thing he always does, she thought, exasperated. Telling me how bad he is so that I can tell him he is good.

  They stood for a while drinking wine and watching the other guests; Ailith loved to watch people. She loved to observe the way their bodies spoke, hear their unguarded remarks, and watch their faces as they scowled, smiled, and laughed.

  Presently a very large man came striding towards them. He had curly black hair, dark blue eyes, and would have been handsome except there was something of a simpleton about him. His name was Findlay, and he was well-built, but moved in an awkward, gangling way, with his shoulders slumped and his arms hanging down by his sides. He had a constant foolish grin on his face—indeed, he was smiling now—and he was absolutely devoted to Jock, even though Jock treated him like a pet dog.

  Findlay handed him a plate heaped with pheasant meat and looked eagerly at Jock for approval, like a dog bringing a ball back to his master.

  Jock tasted the meat then patted Findlay on the back. “Excellent, Finn," he smiled. Then, referring to Ailith, he asked, “And could you fetch some for my lovely betrothed, please?”

  Findlay nodded and was just about to turn away when Ailith stopped him.

  “Thank you, Finn," she said gently, smiling at the big man. “I am not hungry yet, but perhaps later.”

  “I will have some ale, though,” Jock said.

  Findlay smiled at them beatifically and shuffled off into the crowd to do Jock’s bidding.

  “You treat him like a hound,” Ailith said angrily. “Just because he is a little dense does not mean that he has no dignity.”

  “I hope you will not be like this when we get married,” Jock replied, sounding hurt. “I look after Finn out of the goodness of my heart. I took him into my home when his family died of smallpox and he had nowhere else to go. He appreciates everything I do for him and never complains. I feed him, give him a home, and if I ask for small services in return he is happy to do them for me. I know I am not perfect, Ailie, but I pity Findlay, and I do what I can for him.”

  Ailith immediately felt remorseful. What Jock had said seemed true, but his manner of saying things often irritated her. Findlay was a tragic case indeed. When a family contracted smallpox and died the custom was that their home and everything in it should be razed to the ground to stop the infection from spreading. Findlay’s home was far south of Kinlochan, and he had wandered for miles as a starving beggar. When he got to the village, something about him had made Jock take pity on him, and since then Findlay had adored him.

  Jock would not have been her choice of a husband, but he was a good man and she knew that he would never treat her badly.

  “You are right, Jock," she sighed, “and I am sorry. I do not know what has come over me today. I think it’s that I feel sorry that such a good woman has died. She was an inspiration to us all.”

  Jock put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her. “It comes to us all, my love," he said gently, “good or bad, rich or poor.”

  Just then, the Laird himself came downstairs, and Ailith’s heart leapt; she felt as if she wanted to rush over and comfort him because he looked so bereft. No doubt it was because of the occasion, she told herself. The combination of his handsomeness and the tragedy of his loss was a heady mixture and rendered him doubly attractive to the soft hearts of many women, herself included. However, unlike many other women, she was sensible enough to know that this was not love at first sight, but only a transient physical attraction that would disappear as soon as he was out of her sight. She turned away, chiding herself for being ridiculous, but Jock had seen the direction of her gaze.

  “Handsome devil, isn’t he?" he asked, laughing to hide his envy. No woman had ever looked at him like that, and no matter how good his heart was, he could not help but feel a little cheated that he was not a tall strapping man like Lyall Stevenson.

  Ailith shrugged. “There is more to life than looks," she remarked. “Beauty fades, but a good heart goes on and on." She paused, then said thoughtfully, “I wonder if I could help young Fenella to carry on what her mother started?”

  “Why do you want to do that?” Jock asked, puzzled. “You have never shown any interest in charity work before.”

  Ailith turned and smiled at him, then kissed him lightly on the cheek. “For the same reason that you befriended Findlay," she replied. “Because it is the right thing to do.”

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  About the Author

  Since she was a child, Adamina was inspired by stories of true love overcoming every obstacle! So, she started writing her first book at the age of 23!

  A few years later, she met her own “Highlander” During their honeymoon, they decided to travel to Scotland. And then everything changed...

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  DISCLAIMER:

  This book is a work of fiction. Some of the characters are real historical figures, but the others exist only in the imagination of the author. All events in this book are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.