Highlander's Daring Escape (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Alisa Adams

  “I’m sure your uncle and your father wouldn’t like that,” Betsy said wryly.

  Catherine arched her eyebrows and tilted her head away towards the stream. She watched water rushing by, and wished that she could fling herself into the stream and be carried away by its current to pastures anew. She was used to being carried away by a force other than her own. The major decisions of her life had been made for her, and none of that would change when she had a husband.

  “No, they wouldn’t,” Catherine said in a small voice.

  “I suppose we should drink in this scenery because we shall not be able to come here again. That is, assuming you are going to want me to come with you when you are married?”

  “Of course!” Catherine twisted her head around to look directly at Betsy, surprised that Betsy could even think such a thing. “I would never go anywhere without you. I shall need a friendly face. I imagine any husband of mine will be busy with affairs of the state, and I should otherwise be terribly bored waiting for him to return home.”

  “What do you suppose married life will be like?”

  Catherine tilted her head back up and looked up at the sky. She breathed in deeply and watched the fluffy white clouds drift across the cerulean backdrop. Occasionally there was the outline of a bird soaring overhead. She’d thought about married life for a while now, ever since her father had sat her down and told her that she was coming of age and it would be time for her to leave her home and begin a new family of her own. The prospect had frightened Catherine immensely. Home was all she had ever known, and the thought of leaving her family made her heart shiver. Ever since then she had tried to think of the positives, but married life was such an unknown quantity to her that she didn’t really know what to think.

  “I suppose it shall be like my life at the moment, except instead of my father and uncle telling me what to do it shall be my husband. I will have to attend banquets with him and make good impressions on all his friends, I shall bear him children and ensure that the house is well-kept.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, but it sounds entirely dreary.”

  Catherine pursed her lips. “Indeed, all except raising the children. I am quite sure that once we begin a family I will see the true bliss of married life. That is the final joy of it all really, isn’t it? That we should raise children and leave a legacy? I am looking forward to having the house filled with the sound of children’s laughter, and to watch them frolic and play outside. And one day I shall return here and show them this place.” She smiled at the thought. It was strange how thinking about a husband brought her great anxiety, but thinking about children brought her nothing but joy.

  “I can picture them in my head,” she smiled, “three or four or perhaps even five little versions of myself, each one unique in their own particular way, and each of them I shall love just as much as the others.”

  “I hope your husband, whoever he will be, is prepared to raise such a number of children.”

  I hope so too, Catherine thought. She was a strong-willed woman and had certain expectations of what she wanted from a husband and from life itself, but she knew that her wishes would come secondary to whatever man was chosen for her. She prayed and hoped that her uncle would be wise in his choice, but only had a feeling of dread when she thought about how her views of the world were completely misaligned with his.

  “Well, at the very least I am excited to discover what will happen to us in the future, and I am glad that I will be with you every step of the way.”

  “Of course Betsy.” Catherine reached out a hand to clasp her handmaiden’s, squeezing it gently. “I would never go anywhere without you, ever.”

  The two young women remained in the glade, enjoying the babbling sounds of the stream and the sound of the soft rustling of the breeze through the trees. Catherine stretched her fingers out in between the blades of grass and felt utterly contented. Here she could forget all about the future and how it was rushing up to her without giving her any chance to become comfortable with it.

  “Can I tell you a secret Betsy?”

  “Of course.”

  “There is a part of me that wonders what would happen if I should simply run away into the forest and never look back. I could easily slip away into the shadows of this land and begin a life free from the wishes of my father and uncle. I would not have to be bound by anything other than my own desires.”

  Betsy chuckled softly. “Oh you are a silly girl sometimes Catherine. Do you honestly believe that you could survive one night out here alone? There are all manner of dangers like wild beasts lurking everywhere we turn. I am quite sure that while this place looks perfect during the day, it is quite another matter at night.”

  “I am more capable than you think!” Catherine said, incensed that Betsy should think her unable to cope with surviving in the wild. Catherine knew it would not be as easy as she thought, but she had learned a lot about nature and she thought she had enough inner strength to see her through.

  “Of course, but either way it does not matter. Do you really think your father would let you leave? I am sure as soon as he learned of your disappearance he would send every man he has streaming through this land to search for you. Why, they’d tear up the trees from their very roots to find you! You are far too important to him.”

  “I suppose I am. Well, it was just a thought anyway,” Catherine said.

  Interrupting their conversation and their peaceful, relaxing time, there was a loud rustling. At first Catherine though it had to be a large animal, and was excited at the prospect of seeing a deer or a wild majestic horse, but then fear pricked her heart as she thought perhaps it might be a wolf or some other vicious predator coming to prove to her that this world was wild, and not the place for an English lady such as herself.

  She and Betsy rose and stood together, clutching each other tightly as they hoped it wasn’t anything dangerous. The carriage wasn’t too far away, and they told each other to run as fast as they could if the animal was dangerous. Catherine’s heart raced in her chest, but as the figure broke through the trees she found that her heart raced in an entirely different manner.

  Emerging from the trees was the large form of a handsome, rugged man. He was about as tall as her father, and his image brought to mind tales of powerful warriors and knights from stories. His hair was thick and ragged, his beard lustrous and smooth, and his eyes twinkled. A black cloak billowed out around him and he had a panicked look in his eyes. In his hand he gripped a sword, a blade that gleamed as it caught the sunlight and had patterns depicted on the blade. Catherine’s breath caught in her throat. He had come from nowhere, and she was quite sure she had never ever seen such a handsome man in all her life.

  “Don’t hurt us!” Betsy cried out.

  The man looked at them in turn, cocking his head to the side.

  “Ye are English,” he breathed, and then looked over his shoulder. He stormed up to them, his heavy steps making the ground quake, and stopped a few feet away. “Please dinnae tell them where I am,” he said. For a moment his gaze met Catherine’s and time seemed to stand still. She was filled with a warm glow that began at the pit of her stomach and spread out through her entire body. Her lips parted and her breath came out in a rush. Her eyes drank in all of him, and her mind grew hazy and stunned by his mere appearance. The way his words drawled out of his mouth in his Scottish accent made her weak at the knees, and after he had raced past them in a blur of black she thought she had been in the presence of something amazing and wonderful.

  “Wait!” she cried, and rushed over to him. He paused, glancing anxiously over his shoulder. She was so in awe of him that her words were hesitant when they fell out of her mouth. His body bristled with masculine energy and she was almost afraid to reach out and touch him, but his wound looked nasty and his face twisted with pain. “You need to clean that wound.”

  “I dinnae hae much time,” the Highlander said, but he waited all the same. Catherine dipped her head and l
owered her body, never taking her eyes off him as she reached down and placed a cloth in the water, before dabbing it on his skin. Strangely, she didn’t feel as afraid or nauseous as she tended to him.

  “Ye hae a delicate touch,” the Highlander said. Catherine smiled meekly, too nervous to talk or ask anything else. He was like a giant compared to her. Before she summoned the courage to do anything they heard the shouts of the English guards. Panic flared in his eyes.

  “Thank ye,” he said, and clasped her hand. As their flesh met she was filled with arousal and the impact of his touch, that lasted long after he had taken his hand away and fled into the forest.

  She had seen something transcendent in his eyes and was quite confident that she never could explain it. This feeling, this sensation, was something special, something that went beyond the chance meeting of two strangers. There was something different about that man, but he had exited her life just as swiftly as he had entered it. She would probably never see him again, but she knew that this moment had left an indelible mark on her. She would never forget it.

  “Who was that?” Betsy asked. The two girls were still clutching each other, and only after the man disappeared from view entirely did they release their grip on one another.

  “I have absolutely no idea.”

  “Well, if that’s the kind of man that they breed in the Highlands, I find myself envious of their women.”

  “As do I, but do not tell my uncle I said that,” Catherine giggled.

  A few moments later, there was another burst through the trees as Uncle Nathaniel and his two guards came rushing in. Their faces were like thunder and the guards had their swords drawn. They were panting, and Catherine couldn’t help but notice that her uncle was holding the side of his face. His hand and sleeve were stained with blood and when he pulled his hand away she could see the ugly gash left on his cheek, and she began to piece the events together. However, the man hadn’t struck her as evil, and she suspected that her uncle had done something to provoke such a response.

  “Did you see that villain!?” he asked.

  “What villain Uncle?”

  “The man that did this. I knew this land was filled with nothing but heartless cutthroats. They’d do anything to harm decent men who are doing nothing but minding their own business. Which way did he go?”

  Catherine glanced towards Betsy, and before Betsy could say anything, Catherine pointed across the stream.

  “He ran that way. He waded through the stream and disappeared,” she said, lying to her uncle. The man had gone the other way. She wasn’t quite sure why she lied, but she had a fervent, inexplicable desire to protect the man.

  Uncle Nathaniel turned to the stream and pointed. The guards waded through the stream as well and searched the other side. Catherine stayed with her uncle. He muttered under his breath and went to the stream to clean his wound and the blood off his hand. Catherine exchanged a look with Betsy and shrugged. Neither of them were sure why they lied, but Catherine knew what would have happened to that man had her uncle gotten his hands on him, and she wasn’t prepared to seal his doom when she didn’t know the full story.

  “What happened Uncle? Who did that to you?”

  “I never caught his name. I was collecting the tax as usual, but Hamish hired a new man and he evidently didn’t know what the arrangement was. He attacked me without provocation and it was only thanks to my skill with the blade that I was able to fend off his initial ruthless attack. Then he fled and we chased him, but he seems to have escaped us,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Indeed, the guards returned shortly after with empty hands and apologetic looks upon their faces. Uncle Nathaniel cursed. His face glowered and he simmered with anger.

  “Come,” he said, and everyone, including Catherine and Betsy, followed him back to the house he had just left.

  When they reached the house, Catherine saw that three people were standing outside the door, waiting anxiously for Nathaniel’s return. Catherine saw a man who was squat and stocky with a ruddy complexion, a slim woman who must have been his wife, a daughter that seemed to be in quite a fretful state.

  “I’m sae sorry sir, I dinnae ken he was sae unpredictable. I can only apologize for what ye hae suffered taeday, and I will dae anything tae help ye find him,” Hamish said.

  “Anything?” Nathaniel thundered. “I should take this entire farm from you for what has happened. He was your man and you were supposed to control him. How dare you let this happen to me!” His voice was so agitated that it came out as something of a screech.

  Hamish made more apologies, and Catherine pitied him. She wondered why he had to come to Nathaniel for protection when it seemed as though he was more afraid of Nathaniel than anything else. She noticed how the girl’s eyes darted towards Nathaniel and were filled with fear. Her shoulders were slumped and her clothes were torn, and she stood shielded by her mother. Catherine had seen that look on other girls before, on serving girls the morning after a large banquet where lords and knights were allowed to indulge their desires, and she wondered if perhaps her uncle had come here to collect more than a tax.

  Nathaniel strode up the path and jabbed a slender, pointed finger towards Hamish.

  “I can see to it that you are ruined because of today I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. I can have a garrison of men stationed at this farm, marching about your fields, all until I find this man. Where is he?”

  “I dinnae ken! I dinnae ken! I only met him a few days ago. He said he was a wanderer. The name of…Bryan Pressley, that was it. I dinnae ken he would be sae violent. He was strong, and I was desperate. I needed a strong man tae help me around here. Please dinnae send men here.”

  “I think you knew exactly what you were doing, but I hope this goes to show you that you are inferior to the English. I shall stay here until I think of a suitable punishment for you.” Nathaniel’s tone was cruel and Catherine knew how vindictive he could be when he thought he had been wronged. She could easily believe that he would stay here for days if needed, all in the name of revenge. But she saw these people; they had the kind of honest, hard-working look of humble folk and they hadn’t asked for this. If anything had happened to his daughter, she imagined that Hamish was smart enough not to accuse Nathaniel of it because it would only bring further scorn and anger. No, the only thing they needed was for the English to leave them in peace.

  Catherine walked up to her uncle and smiled sweetly at the Scottish family. She touched her uncle’s arm lightly.

  “Uncle, I do hate to interrupt, but isn’t my father expecting you back home? I believe you two are to discuss my wedding plans.”

  “I’m sure that can wait a few days.”

  “But Uncle I hate to be selfish, and I would hate to miss out on an eligible husband because our return has been delayed. There are many different girls who will be in search of a husband from many different families.”

  Something clicked in her uncle’s mind. She knew that some things were more important to him than petty vengeance, and he wasn’t going to let some Highland family get in the way of his own family’s legacy. He wanted the Browne name to be one of the most respected in the land, but to do so he needed to make a good marriage for Catherine. And while she didn’t want the process expedited, she thought it was a good tactic to spare this humble family from any more anguish.

  “You are right. We have more important matters to think about,” he said. Then he turned back to the family. “I will be back, and next time you will have a suitable gift for me. You will find that man and have him ready for collection, otherwise I will burn this land to the ground in pursuit of him.”

  With that, Nathaniel stormed away back into the carriage and Catherine followed dutifully, taking one last look at the family. Her thoughts turned to the man. What was someone with such an ornate sword doing in a place like this? As she climbed into the carriage she gazed off into the distance, wondering what would happen to him. The mystery spun in her mind and
she found herself thinking only of the man in the black cloak, and how his eyes had pierced her soul.

  5

  Bryan sprinted until his lungs burned. Sweat prickled on his brow and the branches whipped his arms as he raced through the forest. The only moment of hesitation he’d had was when he had stumbled across those two girls, and he was unable to think of anything else now. As soon as his eyes had fallen upon the girl with auburn hair it was as though he had been struck by a lightning bolt. His body crackled with electricity and he had been stunned by her beauty. He was quite sure that she was some kind of goddess or nymph, for he didn’t think that a mortal could be so beautiful. She had radiated beauty, her green eyes had danced with delight, and he could have spent eternity counting the light freckles that fell like stars upon her pale skin.

  He was surprised when he’d learned that she was English, and there was no doubt in his mind that somehow she was connected to the brute that had put his hands on Janie. For a moment he flashed with envy and bitterness at the thought that the girl might be the grey-haired man’s wife, but he remembered not seeing a ring, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  He ran for a while longer until he found a thicket into which he threw himself, hiding from anyone passing by. He waited for some time, but when nobody came in pursuit of him he dusted himself off and walked carefully back the way he came, for he wanted to check on Janie and make sure that Hamish hadn’t been hurt.

  He was also attempting to get a glimpse of the girl again. He knew that there was no way they could possibly have a future together. Highlanders and the English didn’t mix blood, but he just wanted one more look. It was a cruel thing to see her, for it had made him realize that what he wanted from life was possible. It did exist. That overwhelming, utterly ineffable feeling of completeness was possible, but he had found it in a woman that could never be his. Even if he found her again he was sure that a noble English lady like her would never be interested in a nomad like him. She would need a husband who had riches and could provide for her and their children, and yet in the moment he had shared with her he was convinced that something ethereal had passed between them. It was as though in that one single moment they were intimately connected and they had seen into each others’ souls.