A Rogue at the Highland Court: An Arranged Marriage Highlander Romance

by Barclay, Celeste

  She shifted again and gazed at the stars that shone through the window embrasure. She’d investigated a few more chambers that day and discovered only the lord’s and lady’s chambers had glass in the windows. The rest had thin hides hung to protect against the elements. The one in Allyson’s room was so thin that it was pointless to use it. If she was going to lay shivering, she might as well have something to look at. She missed her chamber at Redheugh, her family’s home. She couldn’t see the North Sea from the battlements here at Chillingham, but she often inhaled wafts of sea air. But at her family’s keep, she climbed the battlements and had a view of the rolling valley between her home and the Hermitage. A river flowed to the north of the pele tower, and Allyson had spent hours there as a child. As she continued to gaze at the stars, she wondered if anyone at Redheugh was looking upon the same stars. An unexpected question floated through her mind: would she ever discover if the stars were brighter in the real Highlands, where Ewan lived?

  I’m only thinking about the toad because aught is better than being a captive here. Even marriage to him. If I wasn’t so desperate to escape here, I’d still want to escape him. Allyson’s mind paused as she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. We aren’t truly betrothed yet, not without the contracts being signed or the ceremony, so he wasn’t obligated to come with Father. Eoin definitely wasn’t. They both chose to chase after me and dragged their men along, too. If I’m honest with myself, which I don’t want to be, it’ll be Ewan and Eoin who devise a way to free me. Father is a powerful warrior, but there is something about the Highlanders that makes them unstoppable, unbeatable. I suppose that’s what I need right now. Warriors who will plow through aught to win what they want.

  Allyson drifted to sleep, picturing Ewan as she’d seen him that morning. She remembered how braw and handsome he’d looked when his head poked through the grass. She considered the strength and muscle she’d felt each time they’d danced over the years, and she admitted it had seemed exciting and reassuring all at the same time. He was more than just attractive, and she’d wondered several times while dancing what it would feel like to kiss him with his powerful body pressed against hers. As she lay alone in bed, she wondered if she’d have been so averse to the arrangement if they’d never met in that blasted passageway.

  Morning arrived far too soon for Allyson as she trudged up the steps to the dais and slipped into her seat. As had become her routine, she kept her head lowered at all meals but observed everything and everyone she saw. That morning, she counted the number of men she was certain were knights, then counted how many were regular warriors. When she finished, she moved toward the stairs to retreat to her chamber again, but Sir John intercepted her.

  “My dear, I’ve been remiss in my hospitality.” His words might have sounded suave, but his tone threatened. Sir John linked Allyson’s arm through his and pulled her in the direction of the dungeon steps. She’d noticed Elizabeth leave the table but hadn’t paid attention to where the woman went. Allyson wasn’t interested in anything Sir John might do to her, and she wasn’t interested in raising Elizabeth’s ire because the retired knight’s attention returned to her. But he gave her no choice but to precede the man down the stairs. She wanted to gag at the stench, which seemed worse than the first time he’d forced her to visit the underworld. There was more noise, too. As Allyson continued down the corridor, she noticed the cells were full this time. Each one appeared to have at least three occupants. She tallied the number of doors and estimated there were at least four dozen people locked away when there had only been a handful a couple days prior.

  “More border villagers who forget they live in England rather than that shite hole they call home.” Sir John spat as he described Scotland. Allyson bristled and wanted to defend her homeland, but she recognized Sir John was back to his games. He only said it to bait her, so she pressed her lips together in a thin line to keep from speaking. “Fear not, the next time you’re here, it should be quieter.”

  Allyson flinched, understanding Sir John meant the cells would be empty because their current occupants would be dead. She kept her eyes straight ahead until they reached the door to his torture chamber. She angled her body closer to the wall, so he couldn’t trap her once again. She’d nearly hurled when he’d run his hand over her breast and toward her mons, and she wouldn’t allow him to catch her unprepared again. Or so she assumed until the door swung open. There were lit torches in all the wall sconces and manacled to one wall was a naked Elizabeth Charlton.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Allyson faltered and didn’t know where to look as Elizabeth licked her lips and arched her back, forcing her breasts forward.

  “I asked you the last time you were here if you’d ever wondered what it would be like to watch a woman’s breasts sway as her body accepted a lashing.” Sir John stood behind Allyson once more and cupped her shoulders as he pressed his lengthening rod against her backside. Morbid curiosity tempted Allyson to gaze at the other woman’s body. She’d seen her sisters and roommates undressed, but she’d never paid attention. She glanced at the woman and failed to see anything appealing, but as Elizabeth twisted, Allyson could see deep scars and welts along her ribs. It disturbed Allyson to imagine what type of events led to these marks, but as Sir John removed a whip from the rack, then ran the handle down the front of Elizabeth, she understood. Without warning, Sir John spun Elizabeth around, and the whip cracked through the air. The sound it elicited from Elizabeth was a mixture of pain and pleasure and made Allyson jump. She shied away when Sir John offered her the whip but forced a casual expression of disinterest. The last time she’d been to the chamber, she’d insinuated such a pastime intrigued her. She couldn’t go weak in the knees now. Not if she hoped to leave without becoming Sir John’s next victim.

  “I shall be an observer as you suggested,” she demurred.

  With Elizabeth’s and Sir John’s backs to her, she stared at the floor as the whipping continued. The sound of the lash whizzing through the air nine more times filled her ears before there was a rustling and the sound of the manacles being released. She glanced up as Sir John carried his mistress to the rack in the center of the room, and for a moment, Allyson feared he would rip the woman apart. Instead, Sir John unlaced his breeches and climbed on top of the table and Elizabeth. Allyson inched back to the door and pulled on the handle, praying Sir John hadn’t locked it. She’d never been more grateful for small mercies than when she fled the terror chamber.

  Allyson ran until she reached her chamber where she dropped the bar across the door. She trembled as understanding washed over her. She’d been in too much shock earlier to process all that she’d seen or attempted not to see. Allyson had never seen a man and woman couple, but she understood the fundamentals. She’d also heard of those men and women who liked their joinings rough with spankings and restraints, but she’d never imagined anyone would want to inflict or receive such agony as foreplay. She’d never seen a man’s rod before either, and she wished her first glimpse had been of the man she married. Her mind leaped to Ewan and the question of what his rod would look like skidded across her mind. She attempted to push it aside, but the curiosity of whether it would be proportionate to the rest of him took hold.

  Allyson shook her head and crossed the room to where she’d hidden the quill and parchment. She assumed their games would occupy the lovers at least long enough for her to drop another note for Ewan. She scrawled a brief update of what she’d learned at the evening meal and prayed the information would improve her chances of rescue.

  Sage is depraved beyond reason. Whips mistress and she enjoys it. I saw too much and am sickened by it but remain untouched. Her father’s a reiver nearby. Mayhap the one who brought me here. Lord Grey’s riding out in the morn to meet the Earl of Northumberland and will be away for a fortnight. Taking Lady Grey, too. Thirty knights and sixty warriors here now. Taking three score with him. Fears ambush on the road and is serving p
art of his forty days as vassal. Leaving me to Sage. E, trust none here. A.

  Allyson dared a longer note with more detail this time. If they discovered her missive, she was as good as dead anyway. She figured in for a penny, in for a pound. She would do whatever she could to keep her rescuers safe while they endeavored to free her. Allyson moved to the window and looked at the men in the lists. She’d assumed Sir John would go there that morning, but he’d had very different plans. While Lady Grey had intimidated her when she arrived, the woman had turned into an ally of sorts. She hadn’t lied when she said she could arrange for people to treat Allyson as an honored guest or as little more than a whore. So far, she’d been an untouchable guest, at least to all the men but Sir John. The warriors and servants left her alone, and she wondered if she could sneak more freedom once the noble couple left and Sir John had the responsibility of the entire keep and Elizabeth as a distraction. The sun was overhead, and the sky was cloudless. While it was beautiful, it provided no protection or cover for Ewan if he attempted to approach the retaining wall again. She clasped her hands, careful not to crush the parchment, and bowed her head.

  Heavenly Father, I realize I am to blame for all that has befallen me, my father, Ewan, and the men who accompany them. I’ve endangered more than my life and done far more than inconvenienced those men. They have families with whom they should share proper meals and beds in which they should sleep. I doubt I can ever make up for what I’ve caused, but I am remorseful for what I’ve done. I pray for Your forgiveness and believe I shall receive it as my heart is truly repentant, but I don’t expect to receive anyone else’s. I’m not sure that I deserve it. Lord God, I am but at your mercy. Amen.

  Allyson sat in the window embrasure as she stared once more at the sky. A sense of calm washed over her, and a weight lifted from her shoulders. She’d always believed as a child that the peace she experienced after prayer was the Holy Spirit delivering God’s forgiveness or guidance. She looked at the missive in her hand and tore a corner from it, then dipped the quill in ink she’d stolen from the steward’s solar the previous afternoon.

  E, I can’t deny this is my fault. Fear drove me to run and now fear drives me to escape not for my sake but to get you, your brother, and your men, and my father and his men as far from here as possible. It all seems so pointless now. Our conversation, my rejection, my cowardice.

  The words I’m sorry seem so inconsequential now, but the apology I wish to give you when next I speak to you will come from the depths of my heart and my conscience. I’m so sorry, A.

  When the ink dried on both notes, she cut a strip of ribbon from what was left and hid everything in the pocket of her kirtle. She waited for the storm she saw coming before she donned her cloak and headed for the battlements.

  * * *

  Ewan paced as close to the tree line as he dared. His glance shifted to the castle each time he turned. The Elliot spy returned at daybreak with distressing news. The man’s words replayed in Ewan’s mind.

  Sage brought in new prisoners and the dungeon now holds four score captives. The man brought them for the sheer entertainment and satisfaction of killing them, not because of any true crimes. His mistress is as depraved as the bastard. People speak in the village of how they enjoy torturing one another, how it arouses them. The tavern wench said they make people watch and sometimes force them to join in. Never heard of such twisted shite, but it’s no secret.

  Ewan was apt to agree. He’d had his fair share of partners and explored various forms of pleasure, but never had he considered beating a lover. He gazed at the castle as he stopped his pacing. He wondered what they’d forced Allyson to endure. His stomach turned over as he imagined Allyson being the victim of such perversion. While the predilection wasn’t unheard of, nor had he passed judgement on it in the past, the urge to protect Allyson pulsed within him. He was certain she would never be a willing participant, and that was what infuriated him when he considered her being subjected to such sights.

  “Weather’s rolling in,” Eoin pointed to a distant thick cloud cover. It was what Ewan needed to ensure his safety when he approached the castle.

  “I’m going alone,” Ewan announced.

  “Like bluidy hell you are. I’m coming at least.”

  “Nay. I’m scouting. I’ll go once I see Allyson on the wall walk, and it’ll only be to retrieve a missive if she drops one.”

  “And if she doesn’t drop aught? Will you leave her to wonder if we’re still here?”

  “Of course not. The missive is the only reason to get that close to the keep. Otherwise, I’ll remain hidden until I can signal to her, then I’ll retreat.”

  “We will retreat. You aren’t going alone.”

  “I am. If aught happens to me, someone must be our father’s heir.”

  “I’ll land my fist in your face if you say such rubbish again. Where one of us goes, so does the other.”

  Ewan recognized he was fighting a losing battle, and while he’d do anything to protect his brother, his dissent was half-hearted. He’d feel better with another set of eyes and ears guarding his back when he approached. He didn’t intend to wait for nightfall again now that he’d learned more about Sage and his mistress. The additional Elliot warriors would be there by then, and he wanted a plan in place to strike that night.

  Ewan and Eoin waited another hour before the heavens opened, and the sky was dark enough to offer them cover.

  “Do you think she’ll come out in such weather?” Ewan asked Kenneth.

  “Aye. She’ll understand this is the best time to contact you. The guardsmen will huddle together and not expect anyone to go for a stroll. She’s hunted enough times to remember the cloud cover will disguise your approach. My lass will be there.”

  It surprised Ewan to hear how familiar with his daughter Kenneth sounded, but then he reasoned that anyone who lived in a keep would have seen guards taking shelter while on duty in the rain, and if she hunted, she’d be aware the weather would provide cover and also weaken her scent to her prey. He and Eoin trekked through the meadow until they reached the spot where they’d lain in wait the day before. The rain beat down on his head and back, but he barely noticed as he prayed Allyson would appear. They waited half an hour, but their patience was rewarded when a small hooded figure appeared at the edge of the wall. Allyson shifted as she pried a rock free from the wall, then shielded her eyes to search the land beyond the keep.

  “Stay here,” Ewan hissed to Eoin. “If the parchment falls in a puddle or remains out here, the water will destroy it.” Ewan leaped to his feet and rushed toward the wall, weaving through the meadow and keeping low to the ground. He approached the wall and waited for the alarm to sound. When nothing stirred, he crept along it until he stood beneath Allyson and looked up at her. She waved and leaned forward, mouthing “be careful.” Ewan nodded before mouthing the same in response. Allyson placed the notes against the rock and tied them together. She peered back at Ewan before pointing to the missives and holding up two fingers. She pointed to the rock again, but this time held up one finger and pointed to him before tapping the rock and sweeping her finger to encompass the trees and the field. Ewan nodded once more, and she dropped the rock into his hands. She watched him dash back to where she assumed Eoin waited, then she watched them return to the trees.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ewan separated the missives before he stepped near the fire. Whatever Allyson had written, she’d made it clear one was only for him. He’d save it until he was alone. Once Kenneth and Eoin joined him as they all warmed themselves, he read aloud the missive Allyson intended for all of them. His fears had, in part, been justified. He wanted to rampage through the keep, tearing asunder anything and anyone he encountered until he wrapped his hands around Sage’s neck and snapped it. Kenneth swore several oaths before going to stand on his own. They hadn’t spoken of the betrothal since leaving Glasgow, and Ewan wondered if Kenneth feared Allyson would no longer be marriable. A sennight earlier, he
would have welcomed that news, but now he wasn’t so sure. Her time at Chillingham surely traumatized her, and he supposed that would be far greater punishment than anything her father meted out. Spending her life alone as a spinster seemed extreme, but her father’s fears would be warranted if word got back to court. No man would want to marry her. Except for him. Ewan lost his aversion to marriage somewhere between Glasgow and discovering who held Allyson. He’d marry her and offer her his protection, but he still intended to carry on with his life. He’d reflected upon how different Allyson was from his mother, but he didn’t consider himself that different from his father. He’d never keep his leman in their home, and he wouldn’t flaunt his relationships at court, but he still didn’t find any reason to alter course despite taking a wife.