by Fiona Faris
She blushed. “’Tis no’ but fantastical tales. My grandmaither was verra fond o’ the auld ways.”
“As am I,” Duncan admitted. He longed for the days when his family had been free to bear their own surname and not that of their enemies. She thinks I am a Campbell. He looked into her eyes and wondered if he told her the truth how she would feel. Would she keep our secret or reveal all and lead tae us bein’ murdered in our beds?
They had much in their lives that were similar. They had both lost their mothers at a young age, their fathers hated each other with a passion that was fiery, they were both their father’s only remaining children, and unbeknownst to her, they both shared an enemy in the Clan Campbell. In the old days before King James had outlawed the MacGregor name, their fathers would have banded together to fight the Campbells, instead of fighting one another. E’en if I bring Marra back, there is a chance that her faither will still try tae kill me.
Marra’s even breathing told him that she had fallen into slumber once more. Duncan leaned his head back against the wall and stared into the flames. He had always planned on finding another MacGregor to wed so that the secret would always be safe. He thought he had found that in Marra. He had not planned on falling for the daughter of his father’s enemy, but with every breath she took against his skin, the further he fell for her. Now that I have found her, I cannae simply return her tae her faither and walk away, but Angus MacDonald will ne’er give his permission for a Campbell tae marry his daughter, let alone an outlawed MacGregor. Perhaps if he apprehended the man responsible for taking her then the MacDonald laird would reconsider his position on Duncan’s family.
While searching for a needle to sew up the wound on Marra’s head, he had looked for signs of who might have taken her. There were no identifying features in the croft that pointed to any one person. The only clue he did have was that the croft was on Campbell lands. Who else other than he had kenned where Marra was tae be that day? Other than myself, there was Marra’s maid and my cousin Lachlan, but neither o’ them would e’er do anythin’ o’ the kind. Did someone follow her, lyin’ in wait tae take her at the earliest opportunity, or was it random chance? Perchance they will return, and I will catch them in the act.
Marra stirred, murmuring in her sleep. She was dreaming and frightened. Duncan tightened his arms around her. “Dinnae fash, lass. I am here and all is well.” He kissed the top of her head and tenderly caressed her face. “Sleep sweet, my bonnie.” Closing his eyes he drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later he awoke to Marra quietly crawling out of bed attempting not to wake him. He assumed she needed to relieve herself and did not wish to embarrass her any more than he already had. The storm still raged outside, and when she opened the door, it slammed against the wall with the force of the wind. A few moments later, he heard a squeal of surprise. Duncan opened his eyes to ensure that she was well and that her captors had not been so foolish as to return in such weather. Not seeing her, he arose and moved to the open door. What he found there stopped him in his tracks.
Holy Maither o’ God!
There standing in the rain was Marra, bathing, completely naked. Her hands moved over her body cleansing it of the dirt from her time lying upon the floor. Duncan stood mesmerized by the sight. He could not remember ever seeing anything so innocently provocative in his entire life. The effect she had on him was instant and intense. His body sprang to life with such force that he gripped the side of the doorframe to steady himself. He desired her more fiercely than he had ever desired another. She lifted her arms to wash her hair, causing her breasts to rise. She squealed again as the cold water rained down on her sensitive flesh. Duncan smiled and managed to move back away from the door before she caught him staring at her. He moved back over to the bed and pretended to be asleep, but kept his eyes open just a sliver to ensure her continued safety.
Marra entered the croft wrapped once more in her blanket. She walked over to the fireplace, glanced his direction to ensure that he was still asleep, then she donned her dry clothing. She sat down in the chair and stared into the flames. She brushed her hair out with her fingers and laid it behind her over the back of the chair to dry. A look of concern crossed her face, and Duncan could not resist asking what was on her mind.
“Are ye well, lass?”
“Aye,” she lied, glancing at him. She blushed apparently embarrassed that she had been caught unawares.
“Forgive me, but I dinnae believe ye, lass. The look on yer face tells a different tale.”
“I was just thinkin’ about how this would be the last time I e’er saw ye. Once ye return me tae my faither, he will ne’er allow me tae see ye again. I have lived such a guarded life with ne’er a choice tae be made for myself. He has decided that I will marry a laird or no’ at all, but I dinnae wish tae do so. I verra much doubt that yer faither would be pleased about our agreeing tae meet each other either.”
“Aye. My faither will be less than pleased as well, but I dinnae share his thoughts. I have nae intention o’ lettin’ ye go and ne’er seein’ ye again.”
“How? My faither would be all tae happy tae kill ye and yer entire clan with his bare hands.”
“I dinnae ken, but I will no’ let ye go now that I have found ye.” Duncan stood up from the bed and walked over to her. He pulled her up from the chair and wrapped his arms around her. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and he leaned down to kiss it away. Marra turned her face up to him, and he gently kissed her lips. He caressed her face as another tear spilled over her lashes and cascaded down to disappear in her hair. “Dinnae fash, my bonnie. We will find a way.”
As the storm continued to rage outside, they spent the day talking and doing what they could to make the croft a more comfortable place. Duncan went out to the lean-to to tend to his pony and hound. Fortunately the lean-to had grown over in its neglected state providing plenty of grass for fodder. Upon returning to the croft, he stood in front of the fire to dry himself. Marra brought him a bannock from his bag, and they sat and ate together in silence for a time. When they were done, it was she who spoke her mind.
“There is a part o’ me that wishes we could stay here together and ne’er leave.”
“Aye. I have had those thoughts myself.”
“Before ye came to rescue me, this place was an absolute terror tae me, but once ye were here that all changed. I ken that I must return tae avoid our clans goin’ tae war, but part o’ me prays that the rain ne’er stops.”
“I ken the feelin’ all tae well, lass.”
“I dinnae want ye tae die for my sake, and I fear when ye return me tae my faither that it will nae be enough tae assuage his anger at my disobedience. ‘Tis my own doin’, but he will blame ye for temptin’ me tae dishonor.”
Duncan grinned. “’Tis ye that does the temptin’, lass.” An image of her washing naked in the rain flashed through his mind. He longed to reach out and take her into his arms once more, but he refrained, for fear that he might not be able to restrain himself.
Marra smiled and blushed. “Does it make me a wanton if I say I am glad that I tempt ye?”
“Nae, it does no’. Ye could tempt a blind man tae sin, lass. Yer voice is like honey tae a man’s ears. Yer spirit is bonnie, wild and unbroken. Ye draw a man in and there is no’ anythin’ ye or he can do tae save him. From the moment I laid eyes on ye, I kenned right then and there that I would ne’er be the same again. I was good and truly lost.”
Marra stood and timidly took him by the hand. He allowed her to lead him over to the bed, and they both crawled beneath the blankets together. He was afraid to touch her for fear that once he began he would not be able to stop, and he did not wish to rob her of her virtue. When he took her he would do so because they had pledged themselves to one another for life. She reached out and traced his features with her finger, lingering at his lips. The sensation was more than he could bear. Duncan took her hand in his and kissed each of her fingers, her palm, her wrist, and then her lips
. The next thing he knew he had pulled her to him.
“My bonnie,” he murmured against her lips as his hands roved her body.
“Oh, Duncan,” she cried out as his fingers brushed across her breasts.
The sound nearly drove him out of his mind with need. He pressed his rock hard length against her, unable to resist the feel of her. “Oh, my bonnie, lass,” he whispered into her neck. His breath against the soft heated flesh caused her to shiver in delight. He covered her with his body, and she parted her knees to him pressing herself against him in response to his caress. “Marra,” he groaned as her body formed perfectly to his own. Had they been in a state of undress as they had been the night before, he would have taken her right then and there. Warning bells went off inside of his head that they were dangerously close to the precipice of giving way to their desires. Marra met his every touch with passionate fervor. Gone was the timid, blushing innocent and in her place was a wildly passionate storm of need.
Gathering every ounce of strength he possessed, Duncan pushed her away from him and held her at arm’s length. “Marra, lass, we cannae do this. I will no’ take yer innocence in this manner. When I have ye, it will be for forever, and there will be nae turnin’ back.”
Marra’s eyes were glazed with a combination of passion and hurt. He had hurt her with his rejection, which had been the furthest thing from what he wished to do. He did not wish to harm her in any way and that included taking her virginity when it was not his to have... yet.
“I… I’m sorry,” she stammered blushing.
“Ye have nothin’ tae be sorry for, lass.”
“I have ne’er felt this way afore ye. Ye bring out somethin’ in me I did no’ ken was possible,” she admitted shyly, averting her eyes in embarrassment.
Duncan lifted her chin and met her eyes. “Ye do the same tae me, lass.”
“I do?”
“Aye, ye do.” He smiled, brushing the hair back from her face. “I want ye more than anythin’ I have e’er wanted afore, and someday, I will have ye, my bonnie, but it will be the honorable way.” Duncan cradled her in the crook of his arm, her head upon his chest.
“Faither will ne’er allow it, Duncan.”
“We will find a way.”
Chapter Eight
Come the morning, Duncan and Marra awoke to find that the worst of the storm had passed. Though it was still raining, the intensity had lessened, the wind had died down, and the lightening had ceased. “It is time,” Duncan announced as he stared out of the open door.
“When I was brought here against my will I wanted nothin’ more than tae return tae my faither’s castle. Now I dinnae wish tae leave,” Marra admitted.
They began to pick up their few belongings and put out what little remained of the embers in the fireplace to keep the croft from accidentally catching fire. Duncan went out to get his pony and hound from the lean-to and brought them over to the front door of the croft. He mounted and pulled Marra up in front of him. “Are ye ready lass?”
Sighing she nodded her head. “Aye.”
They descended the mountain, heading back toward the stream where he had separated from the MacDonald warriors, then followed the stream down to the point where he had originally lost the trail. Darkness fell and through the gloom they caught sight of the glow of a fire in the near distance. Duncan turned his mount into the trees toward the flame and found the MacDonald men sheltering under a rock outcropping. Upon seeing them, the MacDonalds stood swords in hand.
“So the MacDonald was right. Ye did take her,” one of the men sneered, stepping forward menacingly.
“Nae, Duncan did no’ take me,” Marra chastised her father’s men while dismounting.
“Then how did he find ye in such a storm when we could no’?”
“I am a better hunter than the both o’ ye,” Duncan stated truthfully.
The warriors stepped forward again glowering in anger. “Tell that tae my blade.”
“Ye are better warriors than I without contest. I admit that freely.”
His words surprised them, and they stopped to stare at him in confusion. “Aye,” one of them nodded. “That we are, but I ne’er heard a Campbell willin’ tae admit it.”
“We all have different strengths. Yers is warfare. Mine is as a hunter. My strength helped me tae find her. Yers will keep her safe from whomever took her,” Duncan pointed out.
“Yer the one who lured her from the safety o’ her faither’s castle.”
“Aye, I am, and I take full responsibility for that. I ken that I will need tae pay for my part.”
“I am the one who chose tae leave my faither’s lands, and I will no’ allow anyone tae pay for my actions. As it is I have paid enough already, have I no’?”
“Aye, a price ye should ne’er have paid. Ye are no’ guilty o’ anythin’, lass, and dinnae let anyone tell ye otherwise,” Duncan reassured her. He admired her fiery spirit and sense of accountability.
“Yer faither may have other thoughts on the matter,” one of the warriors warned.
“I ken it all tae well, Robert MacDonald,” Marra replied hands on her hips.
“Aye, that ye do,” the other man chuckled.
“Ye have seen my faither’s wrath more than most, Liam.”
Duncan had not taken the time to get to know the warriors’ names as he had been in such a hurry to find Marra before it was too late. As he tended to his pony, he watched her as she interacted with her clansmen. He had been wary of them from the moment they had met, but watching her with them gave him a different perspective to consider. She was comfortable with them in a jovial way that he had not seen her exhibit before. While they had been sequestered together in the croft, she had shared with him how her father had kept her sheltered away from anyone that was a threat to his marriage plans for her, so he could only assume that these men were not. The warriors and Marra laughed together as they reminisced about all of the times they had gotten into trouble with her faither when they were children.
Duncan moved to join them by the fire. The one named Liam nodded his head in Duncan’s direction. “Were I ye, Campbell, I would be leavin’ for France. When Angus gets ahold o’ ye for temptin’ his daughter tae disobey him, ye’ll wish that ye had.”
Duncan shook his head. “I dinnae run.”
“Yer a brave man, Campbell, I’ll give ye that,” Robert stated, “but the MacDonald will no’ let this go unpunished, and there is nae way that he will e’er let ye anywhere near Marra again.”
That night Duncan and Marra slept apart from one another, as she lay guarded between the two MacDonald warriors. She lay but a short distance from him, and yet, after the time they had spent in each other’s arms, she felt so far away. In the brief time that they had been together in the croft, he had grown accustomed to having her near. The thought of having to return her to her father and never see her again was unfathomable. Curling up inside of his tartan, he leaned back against the stone wall of the outcropping and drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, the four of them set out for the MacGregor stronghold. Marra sat in front of Duncan, despite Robert and Liam’s protests to the contrary. He had watched with pride as she stood her ground, insisting upon what she wanted. He loved the way her emerald eyes flashed when she was angry. She had such fire, and she was going to need it to get through what was to come.
When they arrived at the castle, Duncan had expected to find Angus MacDonald waiting there for his daughter’s return, but found that the laird had taken his men and returned back to Jura. He dismounted and lifted Marra from the back of his pony setting her upon the ground. He led her into the castle where they were met by the MacGregor laird. “’Tis good tae see ye home safe, my son.”
“’Tis good tae be home, Faither. There is someone I would like ye tae meet. This is Marra MacDonald, daughter o’ the laird Angus MacDonald.”
“’Tis a pleasure tae meet ye, Laird Campbell,” Marra stated smiling.
“My Lady,” Fe
rgus MacGregor greeted, gallantly bowing over her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, lass. It does these auld eyes good tae see such a bonnie face.”
Marra blushed, smiling with delight at the laird’s charming manners. “I wish tae thank ye for welcomin’ me and my clansmen in tae yer home. ‘Tis most gracious o’ ye tae overlook the bad blood between ye and my faither in this way.”
“Nae at all, lass. Ye are innocent o’ yer faither’s deeds. Ye are most welcome tae remain here for as long as ye need. The sins o’ the faither should no’ rest on his daughter.”
“We will be returnin’ tae MacDonald lands upon the morn,” Robert MacDonald stated, coming forward to stand protectively beside Marra.
Marra cast Robert a scathing look for his rude behavior, then turned back to Duncan’s father. “I thank ye, my laird, but I dinnae believe my faither would be pleased were I tae delay my return. I fear I must face the consequences o’ my actions. He will be less than pleased that I chose tae defy him and meet with yer son in secret.”
“’Tis no’ yer fault that ye were taken, lass. ‘Tis no’ yer fault that ye fell for the charms o’ my son either.” The laird grinned mischievously at his last statement then sobered. “Did they harm ye, lass?”
“A head wound, but that is all,” she admitted gesturing towards her skull still bandaged by the torn strip of Duncan’s shirt.
Turning to one of his men he ordered, “Summon the healer immediately.”
“I dinnae wish tae be any trouble, my laird,” Marra protested.
“Ye are nae trouble at all, lass. Duncan please show our guest tae her room.”
“Aye, Faither,” Duncan agreed leading Marra upstairs to one of the castle’s tower rooms. Opening the door, he caught her smile of delight as she entered.
“’Tis beautiful,” she breathed, looking at all of the lovely feminine items in the room.
“’Twas my maither’s afore she died. She loved beautiful things.” Duncan had spent many hours in this very room growing up. As he stood there he could conjure the memory of her face, smile, voice, touch… It was all that he had left of her. He had never let another person stay in her room before now, but Marra was different. Seeing her among his mother’s things brought him great joy.
