Resisting the Highlander: A Scottish Romance

by Marian McBride

  “Besse, your supper was so very good, especially the warm rice pudding. And what a lovely clean kitchen you have. You work very hard, don’t you?”

  She gave a small shake of her head. “No, not too hard, Miss Bridget, but I do like a clean house, especially the kitchen where food is prepared, so I do my best.” She had a happy look on her face at the praise from the younger woman.

  “Let me help you now with the washing up of the dishes.”

  “No, no lassie, your grandfather might not like it. You go in the parlor and visit with him.”

  “All right, Besse, if you insist, but I’d like to do my share, you know. I don’t want you waiting on me when I come here.”

  “We’ll see,” Besse said. “But not this time. Off you go now. There’s a good girl.”

  It was evident that Besse thought of the kitchen as her own private domain, so being politely expelled from it, Bridget went back into the parlor where the two men sat in front of a blazing fire, feet stretched out upon the fender.

  It was a cozy scene. The aromatic smoke rising from the pipe they were smoking was very pleasing. Going to the piano, Bridget sat down and ran her fingers over the keyboard to get the feel of the instrument, then as the strains of Chopin’s “Polinaise” filled the air, Robert and Aidan exchanged looks of pleasure, Aidan nodding his head in satisfaction. Bridget noticed that Besse was seated in the chair near the kitchen door listening with a sweet smile on her usually glum face.

  From the classic, Bridget swung into a medley of old Scottish songs, winding up with the plaintiff strains of “The Dark Isle.” She lost herself in the music until her fingers finally to rest.

  She sighed as the music died away, remaining seated for a few moments with closed eyes, her thoughts far away in another time and place. Then getting up, she moved back to where the men were seated. Taking a fat pillow from the settee, she threw it on the floor beside Robert’s chair and sat down on it. Looking up at him, she noticed his eyes were wet.

  Aidan stole her attention by saying, “That was beautiful, Bridget, and I hope we shall hear lots more of your playing. You do it very well.”

  “Thank you, Aidan,” she said, head bowing to hide her blush. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. As for myself, I couldn’t live without music.”

  She leaned her head against her grandfather’s chair as Sarge came and lay on the floor beside her, resting his head on her lap.

  “Ah, lassie,” said Robert, “it’s such a pleasure to have you here. It makes everything complete again.”

  He reached out his gnarled hand and stroked her hair. They lapsed into silence then. Words seemed unnecessary at the moment. Although Bridget dreamily watched the dancing flames in the fireplace, and purposely didn’t look at Aidan again, she was fully aware that his gaze seldom left her face and she wondered what was in his mind. Was he resenting the fact that Robert wanted her to move in with them? Was he worried she might spoil his chances of being the old man’s heir?

  Finally, she felt compelled to glance his way, and his dark brooding eyes held hers, bringing a another hot flush to her cheeks. The slightly arrogant look was back on his face and she got to wondering how her grandfather could possibly stand the man.

  Then at last, Robert broke the silence, “Bridget, my dear, there is something I would like you to do for me if you will.”

  She looked at him with a sweet smile, “What might that be, Robert? I’ll certainly do it if I can. Anything at all, just name it.”

  Robert drew his hand across the back of his neck. Bridget remembered the gesture and knew he was about to propose something of which he was unsure of the outcome.

  He looked at Bridget with a rather sheepish smile. “Well, lassie,” he began, “on the night of the dinner I am giving, I would like you to wear one of the dresses your grandmother wore when she was a young woman. This particular one was my favorite and I’ve kept it through the years. Will you do it?”

  She and Aidan exchanged surprised glances. He shrugged his shoulders, and then nodded his head indicating she should agree to Robert’s request.

  “Wasn’t Grandmother very small?” she asked, uncertain that Robert realized how much Bridget had grown in the last couple of years.

  “Oh, no smaller than you I think. Will you try it on for me now? I was sure you would come and had Besse lay it out for you. It’s in the bedroom at the head of the stairs. If you should need any help, I can send her up to you.”

  Getting up from the floor, Bridget said, “I’d better do it now then. I don’t want to be too late in getting back home.”

  Crossing to the other side of the room, she started up the stairs, stopping on the turn landing to look at the portrait of her grandmother. For a brief moment, she thought she was looking at herself, or at an older, more delicate version. The woman’s red hair was very much like her own and her eyes the same shade of sparkling green. But whereas her grandmother’s eyes conveyed a sweet and carefree temperament, her fine clothes and her regal posture made Bridget think herself a poor comparison.

  With an odd feeling clinging to her, she went on upstairs and found the room Robert had indicated. She was surprised to see how elegantly it had been furnished and wondered if it had been done in the event of her moving in. The décor was done in gold and white with touches of deep orange throughout. Two windows on the west wall were hung with white lace curtains and heavy gold colored drapes. The floor was carpeted in the same shade of gold.

  Going to the window, she pulled back the curtains and looked at the beach and ocean beyond. Although it was glooming now, she realized what a beautiful view there would be in the evenings of the long summer days.

  Bridget whispered to herself, “If this room could be mine, all to myself, it would be worth it to move in with Robert.” Her face broke into a childlike grin. She wanted to fling herself onto the four poster bed and roll around in it. It was twice the size of her bed at home, the one she shared with her sisters.

  As she caught sight of the beautiful gown she was about try to on, the same one her grandmother was wearing in the picture on the stairway wall, she let go of her childish desires. The gown was meant for a woman, an elegant lady who did not fling herself onto furniture. The long gown was made of ivory colored taffeta with an overlay of the same colored net. The bodice and front panel of the skirt were trimmed in gold metallic embroidery. It had a full crinoline skirt, tight bodice, a low cut neck line, and just a hint of a sleeve at the shoulders.

  Picking up the dress and holding it in front of her, she walked over to the mahogany wardrobe and viewed herself in the full-length mirror on the door.

  “What a beautiful thing,” she breathed, “but how amazing it hasn’t fallen apart through the years.” But there it was, indeed intact, just as when it was new.

  She had no trouble getting into it and hooking it up the front. It was almost a perfect fit on her slender young body. Looking at herself again in the mirror, she was momentarily shocked at how much of her bosom was exposed. “Oh well,” she said to her reflection, “my scarf will cover most of what the dress does not.”

  Pinning her hair on top of her head and taking one last look in the mirror, she decided that she was ready to show off the dress. As she came slowly down the stairs again, Aidan was the first to see her, and his exclamation of surprise and admiration did not escape her. Robert was facing the fireplace and didn’t see her right away.

  She called to him softly, “What do think, sir, will I do?”

  He swung around quickly at the sound of her voice, and when he saw her, cried out, “My God, Bridget.” Putting his hand to his heart as if in pain, he staggered backwards into his chair.

  Bridget rushed to his side exclaiming, “Grandfather, what is it, what’s the matter?”

  Gasping for breath, he replied, “Bridget, my girl, I didn’t realize the effect this would have on me. Your likeness to your grandmother is uncanny.”

  She put her arm around him, her head touching his, “I’m so sorry
Robert.”

  Then Aidan came towards them in great concern. “You all right, sir? Can I do anything for you?”

  His genuine concern was not lost on Bridget though her attention was fixed mainly on Robert. “Yes, my boy, get me a drink of something strong, to settle this old heart of mine.”

  While Aidan went to do his bidding, Bridget looked into Robert’s pale face and asked, “Would you still want me to wear the dress for the supper? I think it might be too hard on you. I can get a new one.”

  “It was just the first sight of you that did it, lassie. I know you are the image of your grandmother, but in her dress, for a moment, it seemed she had come back. You will wear the dress, my dear, and I’ll be very proud of you.”

  Bridget was unconvinced but nodded her head, knowing she couldn’t refuse.

  Then Aidan was there handing Robert a drink. After it was down, Robert said, “Ah, that’s better, thank ye, lad.” He looked at Bridget, who had tears in her eyes, and took her hand. “You’ll have to excuse me now, lassie, I think I better get to bed and rest for a bit. Aidan, lad, will you help me? Then you can walk Bridget home.”

  “Aye sir, I’ll be happy to.” His dark eyes met hers as she turned to leave them and as his gaze swept over her, she felt the hot blood rush to her face. She ran quickly upstairs to the bedroom where she pulled off the lovely dress and placed it carefully on the bed.

  As she dressed in her own clothing again, she took another look around the cozy room. This was all she needed to finally make her decision to move to the castle, come what may. But she would go home tonight and explain to her sisters first. She couldn’t abandon them without giving them a chance to adjust first, and promising to do for them what she could, when she could.

  Aidan had donned a warm jacket and was waiting impatiently for her when she came down stairs again.

  “Is he all right, Aidan?” she asked with concern, “Can I go see him?”

  “Better not, Miss Bridget. I gave him a good strong drink and think you better let him sleep.”

  “Well all right, if you think so, but I don’t like to go without telling him goodnight.”

  “Not this time, Bridget, come let’s be going.”

  He had taken complete control of the situation, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. He was making her feel like an interloper in her grandfather’s house.

  “Did you tell Besse?

  “Yes, I did, and she will look in on him until I get back, but I”m quite sure he will be all right.”

  Scrutinizing her more closely he said, “Are you crying, Bridget?” He touched her wet cheek with the back of his hand. She jerked her head away.

  “No, not really.”

  “Wasn’t your fault,” Aidan assured her. “It was his idea.”

  “Yes, I suppose so, but I should have been tactful instead of springing it on him like I did.”

  He took her arm, “Let’s get going, it’s getting late and I have an early day tomorrow.”

  Piqued at his attitude, she bristled and pulled away from him, “There is no need for you to walk me home. I know every step of the way, probably a lot better than you, and I wouldn’t deprive you of your beauty sleep for the world.”

  “Well well,showing a temper are we? I am not doing this for you my girl. It’s only because your grandfather asked me to, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for him. He’s a grand old man.”

  Without answer she tossed her head and started for the door. Aidan laughed as he followed her.

  “Now, now, no need to run, slow up a bit.”

  She clenched her fists and cried, “Ooh, Aidan MacLeod you certainly are infuriating. If I do move into Ty-Runach you and I will probably be fighting all the time.”

  “That will be up to you, Bridget,” he said quietly. “It could be very pleasant for us if you want to make it so.” He looked at her boldly as he made the remark. It made her so angry she didn’t answer him as she quickly left the house.

  The night was cold and dark. Swirls of fog were drifting in from the sea. She shivered and pulled her cape closer about her. The eternal booming of the surf on the rocks below them sounded ominous and the street lamps created an eerie light that made her nervous as they walked down the brae to Castle Street. She fought not to show her childish fear.

  They spoke very little on the short walk to her home, but on turning into the wynd that led to the street where she lived, they were confronted with a man staggering all over the place, who had apparently just come from one of the pubs down by the harbor.

  Bridget involuntarily drew closer to Aidan, laying her hand on his arm. He quickly covered it with his own, saying quietly, “Don’t be afraid, lass, it’s all right.”

  He steered her away from the man, who stumbled past without seeming to see them at all. In a few moments they had reached her home.

  She said hurriedly, “Goodnight, Aidan, thank you for walking me home. Sorry if I inconvenienced you.”

  “Oh, damn it, Bridget, come off it will you? If we are to be living in the same house, we will have to do a lot better than this. What say we shake hands and try to better friends?”

  “Well,” she answered hesitantly, “all right, I’ll try for Robert’s sake.”

  She held out her hand, but he didn’t take it. Suddenly, she his arms were around her drawing her close against him. As she struggled to free herself, he pressed his mouth hard on hers. Furious, she managed to free one arm, raising it as if to strike him. He caught it and held it behind her back, his hold tightening about her, his mouth still on hers in a hard kiss.

  Although fuming with anger at his presumptuousness, his touch also thrilled her, but never for a moment would she let him know it. She kept herself rigid in his grasp. Suddenly, he let her go and in a slightly husky voice bade her goodnight and was gone.

  THREE

  Trembling, she entered her parents’ home and went straight to the small bedroom she shared with her sisters, not daring to face her father and mother in such an agitated mood. Her mother must have heard her come in though because she called out, “Is that you, Bridget? Come and tell us what happened at the castle.”

  “I will, Mum, in just a minute,” Bridget called back before entering her room, not wanting to wake her sisters, Aileen and Bethia. “Let me put my things away first.”

  Fighting for composure, she slowly removed her cape and dress, and then slipped into a soft green dressing gown, splashed her burning face with cold water from the pitcher on the chiffonier. She tried to move quietly, watching that her sisters’ sweet faces showed no signs of waking. She wanted to speak with them about leaving, but it could keep until the morning. Only after she felt ready did she go into to the living room to talk to her parents.

  Her father was in his easy chair by the fireplace, contentedly puffing on his briar pipe. Her mother sat on a low stool opposite her husband, hands busy with her knitting. Bridget sat down on the hand woven rug between them and told them about her visit all the while remembering the feel of Aidan’s arms around her, his lips on hers. When she had finished telling them what had happened to Robert when he saw the dress, Alice became quite concerned, and said, “I will go over in the morning and see if there is anything I can do.”

  “All right, Mum, but don’t make a fuss. He doesn’t like it. His man, Aidan, idolizes him, and I’m sure he will keep a sharp eye out for him.” She started to rise. “I’m off to bed. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

  She hesitated before walking away. Looking up at her father, she asked, “Father, would it displease you if I went to live at the castle?”

  He reached out his hand and stroked her hair before answering. “I will miss you sure, lassie, but you are almost a woman now. Some day you will leave us, whether to live with Robert or not. We cannot hold on to you forever.” He gave her his slow, serious smile and continued, “Your grandfather is old now and not in the best of health. I think you would not regret bringing him a few years of happiness before he leaves us f
or good.”

  Bridget smiled into her father’s eyes, gray like a storm but always calm. It was his nature to be quiet, collected, to take everything in stride. He was nothing like her grandfather, she realized, wondering if that was part of the reason Robert disapproved. Her father was nothing like Aidan either, she thought, being unable to image her father losing control as Aidan seemed to earlier. “Thank you, Father, your answer will help me decide.”

  Reaching up, she hugged him, and then hugged and kissed her mother before returning to her bedroom. She slipped into her accustomed place in bed with her two sisters, but sleep didn’t come for a long time. All she could think of was Aidan’s arms around her, his dark face so close to her own. She wished him far from her thoughts, wishing that her grandfather had never brought him into her life.

  Bridget awoke to the sounds of her sisters’ giggling. She opened her eyes to see Aileen and Bethia whispering together at the foot of the bed.

  “What is it?” she asked, wondering what they were gossiping about.

  Bethia, the youngest, answered, “Aye, Bridget, we saw you kissing Aidan MacLeod, don’t try to deny it.”

  Bridget bolted upright into a seated position. Aileen and Bethia giggled at the look of shock on her face. “Now, don’t be repeating that to Mum and Father,” Bridget warned. “He was just bidding me goodnight,” she lied. Her sisters were too young to hear anything else.

  Aileen pushed back her red hair, a lighter shade than Bridget’s and filled with golden flecks. She exchanged glances with Bethia. “We don’t believe you,” Aileen said playfully.

  Bridget panicked. She was still working out how she felt about Aidan’s advances. She didn’t need her sisters telling her parents, not knowing how they would react.

  “Believe what you will, but I have something more important to talk to you both about,” she said, and patted the bed, inviting them to sit.

  They exchanged glances again. Then, Aileen came to sit next to Bridget on her left. Bethia sat on the opposite side of the bed. Although a couple of years apart, Bridget thought they looked like twins, both curly-haired with red-gold locks, gray eyes like their father. Bridget took after her mother’s side while her siblings more resembled the Campbell line.