Angel of Skye

by May McGoldrick

  The morning was clear and cold as they rode into the great valley that stretched out between the round-topped gray mountains Alec called Monadhliath and the rising forestland of fragrant, red-limbed pines that stretched out at far as the eye could see to the south. The great River Spey wound like a sparkling jeweled serpent along the wide floor of the valley, and Fiona’s breath caught in her chest at the beauty of the scene unfolding before her. The farms and the pasturelands of the valley were green and lush, and the workers in the fields raised their hats and shouted welcome to the passing troop.

  Shortly after the sun passed overhead, they rounded a bend in the river and Alec pointed to the great castle sitting atop a mound overlooking the waterway. Groves of tall pines flanked the north side of the edifice, and drawbridges crossed the series of ditches and moats that protectively encircled the high stone walls. To the right, a stone bridge spanned the river on seven arches and led into a friendly-looking village of wood and stone buildings that clung to the south side of the Spey.

  A few moments later they rode through the arched entry and into Benmore Castle. Fiona slowed her horse, and she fell slightly behind the others. As she entered the courtyard, which was ringed with buildings hugging the curtain walls, Fiona paused at the sight of the movement and color of men and women scurrying to their tasks. Her gaze traveled upward. On the wall of a great building across the close, a large stone medallion displayed the family crest. Her eyes were drawn to the lion at the top of the shield.

  Fiona surveyed the entire perimeter of the courtyard. With its three square towers, Benmore Castle was most impressive. But pleasantly so. True, from the outside, it had the look of a fortress. But from the inside, it had more the look of a comfortable residence.

  “My parents have been rebuilding this place for the past two years or so.”

  Fiona looked to her side and saw John there.

  “It’s absolutely beautiful,” she replied.

  “It’s all Mother’s work. She, at last, convinced the rest of us that it’s time we lived in a home rather than in a stone barrack.”

  Fiona looked ahead, her eyes searching for Alec. She was tired beyond measure, but that did not distress her as much as not having had a single moment alone with him in the last two days. She would ride for two more days, if it meant him taking her back to their ruined tower. She longed for the intimacy, for the feel of his skin against hers. She longed for his kisses, his caresses, his passion.

  Her eyes found him and he turned, smiling at her. Her heart tightened in her chest. He was standing head and shoulders above a group of people by a stone stairway leading up to a large doorway.

  Breaking away from the group, Alec started in her direction, and Fiona quickly dismounted. She was growing increasingly aware of the watchful eyes and curious glances of the people around her. From the circle where he had been, a tall and beautiful woman took a step toward her.

  “I want you to meet my mother, love,” he whispered as he reached her side. He took hold of her hand. “They tell me Lord Huntly arrived last night.”

  “Lord Huntly?” Fiona repeated, surprised.

  “Aye. He came to greet you himself. But they didn’t expect us quite so soon. He and my father are off hunting this morning.”

  As the two walked side by side, Fiona felt a weight drag down her every step. She wanted so badly to make a good impression on Alec’s mother. But all of her insecurities bubbled to the surface at once. She knew all too well that she lacked a noble lady’s sophistication and charm. She was just a plain and simple convent lass who had been plucked by fate from the fields and forests of Skye. She could only be who she was.

  By the time they reached the stairway, Fiona’s insides were tied in a knot. Alec’s mother stood quietly, her dark blond hair loosely braided and gathered behind her. Her blue eyes had the same deep color as her son’s, and she looked steadily at Fiona as she approached. Fiona thought to pull her hand from out of Alec’s grip, but he held on to her tightly.

  “Welcome to Benmore Castle, Lady Fiona,” Lady Macpherson offered courteously.

  Fiona extracted her arm from Alec’s and curtsied to the lady of the manor.

  “Thank you for having me here, m’lady,” she whispered softly, her head bowed. “I am dreadfully sorry to inconvenience you all this way.”

  Elizabeth Macpherson stood, momentarily stunned by the behavior of the incandescent beauty before her. This modest young woman—so politely demure—this was not at all what she’d been expecting. She had watched her, sitting so tall on her horse, surveying the castle, and she’d thought, Here we go. This is indeed Kathryn Gray’s cousin.

  She had never liked Kathryn, from the time she’d first met her at court. But she respected her son’s choice and had done a fairly good job of holding her tongue. She had prayed for things to work out for the best, and so they had.

  But this lass was clearly different. Elizabeth looked at her bowed head, the nervousness apparent in the flush of her perfect features.

  She reached out and took hold of Fiona’s chin, lightly raising her face and smiling cordially.

  “You need not curtsy to me, Lady Fiona,” she said softly. “And you need not apologize, either.”

  Lady Macpherson was the most striking woman Fiona had ever laid eyes on. And then, looking into her face, she saw the sudden warmth in those deep blue eyes and knew that all would be well between them.

  “Why don’t you come in with me and let the men bring in your things.”

  “I cannot burden these men more than I already have on this trip,” Fiona said frankly. “Besides, it will take hardly a moment to fetch my satchel and—”

  “Here it is, Lady Fiona,” Robert chirped from behind, her bag in hand.

  “That is all you’ve brought? You mean this beastly son of mine wouldn’t even allow you time to pack your clothes?”

  “These are my clothes, m’lady,” Fiona replied simply. “One doesn’t need a very large wardrobe in a convent.”

  Alec’s mother laughed in earnest. What happened to the trunks full of clothes that Kathryn’s servants had carted in—and out—when she’d arrived uninvited not even a month ago?

  “I believe, my dear, I can be of some assistance to you with that.”

  Elizabeth Macpherson took the hand of the young woman and started up the stairway leading to the Great Hall, with Robert trailing behind.

  “Where are you taking her, Mother?” Alec called after their retreating backs.

  “Why don’t you just go about your business,” Alec’s mother answered over her shoulder before continuing in a more confidential tone, “He’s never been one to share, Fiona, I have to warn you about that.”

  Fiona blushed. She was certain Alec couldn’t have had time to relate their plans to his mother. But there was something in the warm way she held Fiona’s hand that said Lady Macpherson had just joined their conspiracy.

  As the two women made their way through the throng of people into the wide open doors of the great hall, Fiona heard Lady Macpherson ordering Robert to take the satchel up to the Roundtower Room. As Fiona stepped into the great room, she noticed a quiet but firm exchange of words between the lady of the house and the squire.

  Fiona let her eyes travel the length of the room. Each of the plastered walls was covered with colorful tapestries and hangings of embroidered felt, velvet, silk, and damask. The floors were covered, as well, with woven rush mats sewn together in strips. From behind the two women, the returning warriors crowded into the hall and began filling the trestle tables. The large assortment of dogs that were settled comfortably beneath the tables lazily stretched and moved out into the spaces between, while servant girls hurried in and out with platters of food, fresh vegetables, and pitchers of ale, their bright chatter filling the room with activity and warmth.

  Fiona stared, amazed at the happiness that seemed to permeate the air of Benmore Castle.

  “If you’d prefer, my dear, we’ll fix you up something nice to e
at in your room.” Elizabeth put on her most motherly face and cast a sternly disapproving look at an increasingly vocal group who were good-naturedly making room for Fiona among them. “You must be quite weary of these ruffians, I should imagine,” she said loudly, evoking laughter from the congenial group. Taking Fiona firmly by the arm, she led her to the left toward an arch and into the quiet of a hallway.

  As the two made their way along the corridor, Fiona asked her hostess about the history of the castle and the obvious improvements that had recently been made.

  Elizabeth Macpherson beamed, delightedly taking Fiona through the rooms that they passed by, showing her the latest innovations—the leaded windows, the new fireplaces in many of the living quarters. She led her through the new kitchens and the brew house, and up a level into some smaller guest rooms directly above. By the time they had worked their way around to the other end of the castle, Fiona was amazed at the effort that had gone into the castle’s renovation.

  But more importantly, Fiona realized that in no time at all, the two of them were chatting like old chums, quite comfortable in one another’s company and both equally surprised at this budding friendship.

  Moments later, her hostess led her up a winding stairwell, and Fiona held her breath as she entered the Roundtower Room she was to inhabit during her stay at Benmore Castle.

  It was exquisite.

  The room was large and airy, with leaded glass windows that had been opened inward on hinges. The base of each window was corbelled with a bow-shaped oak sill wide enough to sit on. A fireplace had been prepared for an evening fire, and a large canopy bed with richly embroidered curtains sat against an inner wall . The floors were made out of oak as well, and an ornate handmade rug covered only part of the burnished wood.

  “This room is fit for a queen,” Fiona whispered, turning in Lady Macpherson’s direction. “You certainly don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”

  “Of course I do!” Elizabeth took hold of Fiona’s hand and drew her to the middle of the room. “I have to tell you one thing, though, you are the first person to be staying in here.”

  “I am?”

  “Aye. We started building this tower about two years ago. That was right after Torquil MacLeod and that Englishman, Danvers, attacked us. It was just recently finished.”

  “It is beautiful,” Fiona complimented. “The mason’s work throughout the castle is very fine. But this tower, the detail of the workmanship, it is absolutely superior.”

  Elizabeth smiled happily. It was such a pleasure to have a young woman such as this see and appreciate the things she herself had worked so hard at.

  “How do you know so much about these things, Fiona?”

  “Well, the prioress made it a part of my education, but I’ve always been interested in it.”

  “That doesn’t really surprise me,” Elizabeth said, drawing her down beside her onto the bench near a small table. “Your father was a great builder, you know.”

  “Unfortunately, I never knew him.” Fiona paused, absently unfastening her cloak and placing it beside her. “I’m learning new things about him every day.”

  “Sitting here and talking with you, my beautiful child,” she said, squeezing Fiona’s arm gently, “I can see his spirit lives in you.”

  Elizabeth patted Fiona hard on the knee to punctuate her change in tone. “But let’s talk of happy things. I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad you’re to be the first to sleep in this room!”

  “Thank you, m’lady,” Fiona responded gratefully. She looked around at the furnishings. “Benmore is so large. Why is this end of the castle so ornate?”

  “Actually, we really needed apartments for the lads,” she said, trying to sound practical. “But this tower and the adjoining buildings on this western wall were really done with Alec in mind. Alexander and I thought...well, he is the next laird; he should have something more modern than the old pile we live in. We wanted it to be something special, so we sent to Moray for the best masons we could find.”

  Fiona thought of the Alec and the love his parents had for him. She thought of the love she had for him. She had fears. Fiona still had difficulty believing that her future life lay with him. Seeing herself here at Benmore—growing old beside him—that was an incredible dream that seemed nearly unobtainable. Her thoughts drifted briefly to another pair of lovers whose destinies had been so sadly star-crossed. She knew all too well that fate was a mystery, and often a merciless one. Her dreams of a future with Alec were wondrously joyful, but would their fate allow it?

  A knock on the door roused Fiona from her thoughts. As Lady Elizabeth moved quickly to let in the serving girl with the trencher of food, Fiona realized that she hadn’t heard the last few words of her hostess.

  The next few hours were busy ones for Fiona. She had not even finished her meal when a troop of the household workers arrived with a tub and buckets of warm water.

  Relaxing in the jasmine-scented bath, Fiona nearly fell asleep as the soreness of her days in the saddle melted out of her tired muscles.

  But that hadn’t been the end. No sooner had she put on the quilted silk dressing gown that Lady Elizabeth had sent up than another knock on the door brought the presence of her hostess’s seamstress. Fiona was measured and eyed approvingly by the old woman, who disappeared with scarcely a word spoken.

  Now, standing in the middle of the room, brushing the dampness from her long tresses, Fiona gazed longingly at the deep billows of the brightly decorated featherbed. She could not remember ever sleeping in such a luxurious piece of furniture.

  Fiona moved to the side of the bed and sat. But then again, she could not remember ever sleeping on anything but the hard ground she’d been enduring for the past week.

  Except, she thought with a sigh, for the few precious hours spent at the top of a ruined tower. She smiled. She would trade a thousand nights alone in this featherbed for that one night in Alec’s arms.

  And dreams of Alec were all she had as she fell deeply asleep.

  Chapter 15

  Wealth, worldly glory, and rich array

  Are all just thorns laid in thy way,

  O’ercovered with flowers...

  —William Dunbar “All Earthly Joy Returns in Pain”

  “Are you certain you are not rushing Fiona?” Alec’s father asked him.

  Alec ran his fingers through his hair and smiled wryly as he leaned back heavily against the top of the open hearth of the fireplace. He certainly had rushed her. From the beginning. From the moment when their paths had first crossed. He could see now that he’d wanted her from that moment, and he admitted to himself he’d used everything he knew about women, every bit of his experience with women, to make Fiona his. And it had happened. He thought of the magical night they’d shared as lovers in the ruins of the tower. She now belonged to him and Alec held that dear.

  He’d wanted that, and now he would secure it. What was left was to seal their love, their future, by marrying before anything or anyone could get in their way. And Alec would not let anyone get between them.

  He’d thought it would be appropriate to break his and Fiona’s engagement news to his parents first. But then, he should have known better. Alexander Macpherson always had at least a hundred questions that he wanted answers to, and for each answer he had another ten questions more.

  “Father...” Alec took a deep breath as he continued, “if it looks to the rest of the world as though I’m rushing her, then the world be damned. I love her. I almost made a great mistake once, but this is no mistake. This is the woman for me. And I know when you meet her, every question you have will be answered.”

  “But have you thought out all the ramifications of such a union?”

  “The hell with ramifications, Father! What good did that kind of thinking do last time? I almost married the devil’s own mistress!”

  Alexander Macpherson eyed his wife’s attempt at a serene expression. Sitting across the room, she was trying to look busy
tending to the needlework on her lap. But he’d been watching, and she had not completed a single stitch. She was listening to his questions, and from the blush on her beautiful face, Alexander knew that if he didn’t ease up on Alec soon, she would surely pounce on him. My God, how he loved this woman! Thirty-two years of marriage and he still felt like a schoolboy when she turned those cobalt-blue eyes of hers in his direction. And now he realized that his questioning stance was taxing her patience. Alexander knew from experience that the next time she looked up, she would be glaring at him.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Alec,” the laird boomed. “I’m not questioning your judgment. But even if I were, you know how I feel about your mother’s judgment, and she thinks this Fiona Drummond Stuart is the finest young woman ever to walk on Scottish soil. ”

  Alexander turned to Elizabeth once more, and this time he noted the curt nod of approval from her.

  “She is, Father,” Alec agreed wholeheartedly. “But aside from that, she is the most disruptive thing that has ever happened to me, something I’m quite certain Mother would approve of. No woman has ever been able to get under my skin the way she does. She continually bewilders me. She is a rebellious, impish, high-spirited kelpie. Finally, there in Skye, I thought my life was taking on some serious purpose. But then she walked into it and suddenly I realized I was just running away from life.”

  Alec noted the glimmer of a smile that was tugging at the corners of his mother’s mouth. She had always said that her son would only be truly happy with a woman of extraordinary spirit and temper. A woman who could rile him up.

  “You do love her,” Elizabeth put in quietly from where she sat. She nodded with satisfaction. “Well, I probably don’t have to tell you that she’s in love with you, too. This afternoon—the time we spent together—all she cared about, every question she asked, had some connection with you. We walked through every building, and her conversation kept coming back to you. And the nice part of the whole thing was that she was not even aware she was doing it.”