Highlander's Bride: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 1)

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “Where is Matthew?” Fiona’s husband too might offer her his aid should she need it, all dependent on how deeply his loyalty to Jeremiah was over Coll and Duncan.

  “Mathew is—” Her friend’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “You have no’ heard?”

  “Heard what?” More dread filled her.

  “M-Matthew suffered a nick to his arm during a training session in the yard, the smallest wound, but it festered and he took a fever. He passed away nigh on two months ago, only a few days after Coll left.”

  “I’m so sorry. I’ve been at Carron that long and had no’ heard. Is your father aware you’re without a husband?” Gregor’s allegiance to his chief overrode all, but he loved his daughter, wouldn’t wish for her to be suffering unnecessarily. She pulled Fiona into her arms, her heart heaving for her dearest friend.

  “I asked Jeremiah to send my father a message, of which he did, but then he told my father I had no desire to return. He’s such a scoundrel. He has a great interest in my skill even though ’tis a weakened one, far more than our chief ever did. He has even alluded to making me his leman, of which I’ll never agree to.” Fiona sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “I fear remaining here now Matthew is gone, but I’ve had no other choice. I do all I can to be pleasant to Jeremiah, even though I detest doing so.”

  “Then you’ll come with me when I escape.” Never would she allow her friend to remain here with Jeremiah, not now. “Ronan and Duncan will be here soon and if you no longer have the protection of a husband, then you’ll be safe with me at Carron. Duncan will send word to your father from there should you still wish it, and if no’ then you’ll stay with me.”

  “I wouldnae wish to be a burden.” Such hope bloomed in Fiona’s eyes. “Are you certain I can remain with you?”

  “You would never be a burden, and all is settled. You’re coming with me, whether I must drag you along or no’.”

  A knock sounded.

  “That’ll be the maid.” Fiona hugged her, a smile lifting her lips. “I’ll come, as well as try to find a way out of here for us.” She walked to the door and opened it, bid the servants who’d returned to enter.

  Two maids in brown kirtles and two lads hustled forward, each carrying a steaming pail of water. Meg swept inside too, garments draped over her arm. The maid bustled across to the ambry and hung the gowns and a lacy white shawl before setting a folded white shift on the end of the bed next to her. Another lass entered with a tray and placed it on the side table, while Fiona busied herself overseeing the filling of the tub. Her friend added a few drops of scented oil and the sweet aroma of vanilla swirled through the steamy air and filled the chamber with its familiar scent.

  Once the servants had filed out, Fiona shut the door and patted the chair in front of the table. “You must be hungry after your journey and this meal is warm and hearty, will fill your belly well. Eat, replenish your strength, for we have quite the night ahead of us.”

  “I am famished.” She’d eaten naught in well over a day and her hunger and thirst beat at her. A meal and a hot bath would be most welcome, particularly while she considered her next move. She sat and poked her nose over the bowl of chunky beef stew, breathed deep of the rich scent of the steaming meat and hearty vegetables. “This smells heavenly, no matter I’m currently in the least heavenly place of all. Finding you here though, proves I was meant to come, even under the circumstances in which I did.”

  “Aye, your arrival is a blessing in disguise.”

  “More than blessing, no’ that my chosen one will see that as the truth right now.” With a slice of crusty bread in hand, she dipped it into the stew and took a hearty bite. The flavors danced across her tongue and warmth raced to her belly.

  “Honestly, you are the hope I’ve been praying for since I lost Matthew.” Fiona perched on the dark blue and white padded corner chair. “Tell me more about Ronan, your mate. What’s he like?”

  “Ronan holds the battle skill as Coll and Duncan do, even sensed the bond forming between us twenty years ago, afore I was abducted from the fae village.” She dunked her spoon into the stew and sipped from it. “A month ago when Ronan and I first met, ’twas unfortunately no’ under the best of circumstances. Duncan had captured him and his father, Niall, imprisoned Ronan within Carron’s dungeons and taken Niall onto Ardan House. ’Tis a long story, and one I will surely spill all the details about another time, but while Ronan was chained within Carron’s cells, I tended him and that was when I first touched his mind and he sensed my presence. I should have known better than to do so. Mama had warned me never to touch the mind of another holding fae blood, that they could so easily sense my presence if I did, but I just couldnae help myself with Ronan.”

  “Never could you have turned your chosen one away.”

  “Aye, and thankfully he saw through my stubborn stand against him, only no’ long after his arrival he escaped and after healing from his injuries, returned to claim me. I’ve never been so happy as I have since he did.”

  “As a wee lass, I always dreamed of holding such a soul bound connection, had hoped since I held a fae skill that I might. Of course, ’twas never to be.” Another tear trickled down Fiona’s cheek as she plucked a thin strip of black leather free from under her bodice and rubbed a ring swinging from the center between her thumb and forefinger. “I loved Matthew, but we didnae have long together.”

  “You’ve barely been given time to grieve and that isnae good for you.” She sipped wine from her goblet. “You’ll be able to do so at Carron.”

  “One cannae show too much weakness here.” Fiona crossed to the tub, knelt and swirled her hand through the water. “This is the perfect heat. Come and bathe afore the water gets cold.”

  “One moment.” She finished her stew then on her feet, unlaced the front stays of her burgundy gown, wriggled her hips and allowed the velvet to slither to her feet. With the cream under-tunic hauled over her head and damp slippers kicked off, she stepped into the tub and sank into the water. Down, she dunked, head and all then emerged and picked up the bar of soap the maid had left beside the tub. She worked the soap into a lather and with vanilla scented suds in hand, washed her hair while Fiona paced before the crackling fire. “How goes your empath ability, Fiona?”

  “Since Matthew and I arrived here I’ve sensed naught but evilness in this place. Certainly a deep bitterness brews within Jeremiah, which became even more obvious when Coll arrived and sought his hospitality. At times I could barely breathe through the resentment bubbling from him. Jeremiah detests the way Colin sent him to his mother’s MacLennan clan to be fostered, all while favoring Coll and Duncan and allowing them to remain at Loch Alsh with him. ’Tis why he sailed to see his father this week, to confront him about it all.”

  “He did, that confrontation ending in his discovery about me. I fear one day Jeremiah will learn the truth about Coll and Duncan’s birth as well, then all hell will surely break loose.” She more than feared it.

  “I fear such a thing too.” Fiona shuddered, her hands twisting together. “Jeremiah certainly detests being the third-born son, and even though Coll and Duncan were born from a handfast marriage, Jeremiah would still take every advantage of that and attempt to overthrow them.”

  A chilling horn shrilled outside and Fiona hurried to the window, her red locks streaming behind her as she flung the shutters open and wedged sideways out to get a better look.

  “What is it?” Out of the tub, she splashed, wrapped a drying cloth around her and dashed to her friend’s side. Beyond the window, the darkened night skies churned and thunder rumbled somewhere out at sea.

  “The point watchman has raised the alert, the signal that a vessel approaches Rhue. One blast means ’tis only a passerby, two blasts for the enemy.”

  “Then let us hope for a second blast, for my chosen one will never be my enemy, only my very salvation.”

  * * * *

  Ronan joined Duncan where he sat at the stern, the stormy black clouds high
above obliterating the stars and allowing only a sliver of the moon to peek through. Thunder boomed and lightning slashed the skies while up ahead, the entrance to Loch Broom rose as they cruised toward Jeremiah’s stronghold on the headland overlooking the western coastline of the mainland. Their sea crossing had taken far longer than he wished and as they rounded the point, a horn sounded with one long and eerie blast, then a second shrilled even louder.

  “Our arrival has been noted, no’ that I expected otherwise.” Duncan adjusted the rudder, his gaze narrowed on the stretch of rugged shoreline and the boulders surrounding the sea-gate landing. “Rhue Castle is impenetrable, has never fallen to another. It might be best if we begin by asking Jeremiah to honor the Highland code of hospitality, to request lodging for the night and pray he takes the bait.”

  “What if he does no’?” Ronan plucked his satchel out from under the bench seat and removed his steel-studded war coat, shrugged it on and lifted the collar higher over his neck. “Are you prepared for a battle?”

  “Always, yet I am still his elder brother and if Jeremiah has laid even one finger on my sister, I’ll skewer him where he stands.”

  “Then you’ll need to get in line behind me since I intend to skewer him first.”

  “Ronan?”

  “I’m here. Duncan and I have arrived.” He straightened on the seat, Kyla’s presence in his mind easing a touch of his anxiety. The castle’s massive stone walls rose out of the misty dark with forbidding height into the night sky, the windows lit by candlelight and his chosen one ensconced somewhere deep within that stronghold. “How did your conversation with Fiona go?”

  “Fiona wishes to leave with me. She’s widowed now, has been these past two months and has no desire to remain behind.”

  “Then we’ll take her with us.” To Duncan, he muttered, “Kyla speaks to me along our merged link. Fiona wishes to leave too, is now widowed.”

  “Fiona and Kyla used to follow Coll and I around constantly as children. Fiona’s a spritely lass and due to her empath ability, has a great deal of love to give. Certainly never a day passed that I didnae catch her sneaking food from the kitchens for a hungry child. She also tended the wounds of our injured kinsmen, right alongside Kyla.” Duncan searched the rocky entrance where the waves splashed in hard against the boulders and sprayed high. “We willnae leave either of them behind when we leave.”

  “Duncan is in agreement with me. Fiona comes.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll speak to you again soon. I must tell her the good news.” Their connection dropped away and he sighed with frustration.

  “Jeremiah and his guards come!” Hamish bellowed from the bow.

  “Have you ‘seen’ aught more?” Ronan stormed down the center aisle, Duncan right behind him.

  “Naught, and ’tis most frustrating.” Fisting one hand over the hilt of his belted sword, Hamish growled under his breath. “The moment I have a vision, I shall inform you both.”

  “How do we explain my close resemblance to Coll?” He eyed the procession of heavily armed warriors marching down the grassy trail toward the sea-gate, Jeremiah at the head. His adversary halted on the stone landing in his rawhide pants and steel-studded black coat, his legs planted wide and his claymore strapped within a baldric across his back. Jeremiah’s men took their positions at his flank, all except for two who jumped into the water as their galley crested a wave and sailed in.

  “You need to be Rand MacKenzie once more.” Duncan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “My brother would certainly have to be blind no’ to notice the similarity and he’d question it if I said you were a Matheson. That I cannae have.”

  “Then Rand I shall be.” He had no issue with Duncan’s choice and as they neared the landing, Jeremiah’s two men gripped the sides of their vessel and brought them up against the sea-gate.

  Duncan jumped onto the stony platform and stormed toward Jeremiah.

  Ronan bounded from the galley and followed. He’d never allow his cousin to stand alone, not in any way.

  “I come in peace, Jeremiah, unlike you did to my shores,” Duncan snarled, his war coat flapping against his legs. “I ask for your hospitality this night. We’ve traveled far and all to ensure Kyla’s safe arrival.”

  “Hospitality?” Jeremiah snorted and shook his head, his red hair gleaming under the torchlight one guard held behind him. “Dinnae try any trickery with me, Duncan. Kyla holds fae flood and you and Coll have had your chance to wed her, could so easily have done so while she was with you at Carron. You can be assured I will make her my wife, that I have our father’s permission to do so as well. This night she’ll be mine.”

  “She’ll never be your wife.” Fury slammed into Ronan and he shoved forward, wanted to wrap his hands around Jeremiah’s neck and wring it.

  “Stand down, Rand.” Duncan hauled him in behind him and Ronan gritted his teeth and forced his hands to remain at his sides. Aye, stand down he would. They needed to secure Jeramiah’s hospitality, to get inside those walls if possible.

  “My, my.” Jeremiah narrowed his gaze on him. “Why is it you look so very similar to Coll, even more so than his own twin does?”

  “Rand is one of my most trusted men.” Duncan stepped nose to nose with Jeremiah. “I demand to see Kyla and I willnae be leaving here until I’ve done so.”

  “I’ll never permit you entry into my keep, but if you insist on seeing her then I’ll have her brought to the ramparts, right after she and I have spoken our vows.” Jeremiah gestured toward the battlements up high where a good score of warriors stood guard. “If you wish, I’ll even consummate our union while you watch on, then you’ll know for certain she’s my wife, and that you’ll never get her back.”

  Pure rage burned through Ronan and Duncan shot him a look of warning over his shoulder. Never had he been so angry, yet this was exactly what Jeremiah wanted, to taunt and tease them, and if he succumbed to the man’s goading, then one wrong move would see him lose the chance to get inside that stronghold to reclaim his bride. He wanted her returned to him, and he wanted her back now. Only careful thought and planning would see that done.

  “Be gone with you all.” Jeremiah flicked a hand at them as he backed away. “You’re to leave the moment you’ve seen Kyla on the battlements, or else I will carry out my threat and flip her skirts afore you. That I give you my word on.”

  “No clergyman will ever wed you to Kyla, no’ when she must still do so of her own free will and I know my sister well. She will never utter vows with you.” Duncan spat on the ground. “Touch Kyla in any way, and I’ll gut you with my sword. That I give you my word on.”

  “Strong words, brother, but meaningless all the same.” Jeremiah gave them his back, his warriors closing in behind him as he marched up the sea-gate stairs and inside, the portcullis clanking into place once all were well within.

  “I want to do more than gut him.” Ronan paced back and forth along the landing. To Duncan’s men surrounding him, he muttered, “Make yourselves busy along these rocks. Scatter about as if you’re stretching your legs or whatever else comes to mind. I willnae be leaving here without my wife, which means we must find a way inside, and damn soon.”

  “Follow his order, as if it were my own.” Duncan motioned to his men to move out then eyed Hamish. “Tell me you ‘see’ something.”

  “No’ as yet, but I’ll be waiting and watching.”

  “As will I.” Ronan bounded onto the rocks and crouched in the dark, his chest aching and his frustration burning fierce and hot. Find a way in, he would. Or perish trying. There was no other choice.

  Chapter 7

  Kyla’s heartbeat thumped as she stood beside Fiona at her window. “I’ll no’ wait idly by for Ronan and Duncan to attempt a rescue. We have to find a way out of this place afore my chosen one loses all reason.”

  “The only way in and out is through the main gate.”

  “What about from the top of the tower? Can we get upstairs, sneak through the window and use
a rope to scale down?”

  “Should we fall then we’d end up a bloody mess on the rocks.” Fiona closed the shutters over the window. “What of your fae skill? ’Tis said those with the mind-walker ability can sway another’s intentions when within their mind. Has your skill ever grown to that level?”

  “I’ve never attempted—oh.” Memories surged, of the time when she’d been down in the dungeons with Ronan following his initial capture at Duncan’s hands and she’d unknowingly used force against him when she’d issued her command for him to eat. His words flowed through her mind.

  “Cease using force against me.” He’d taken a hearty swallow of the water, her mind entrenched within his. “I can sense your fae skill, your subtle yet clear push within my mind to make me obey your orders.”

  “I have no idea what you speak of.” She truly hadn’t at the time, having never used force before.

  “Trust me, you hold a fae skill whether you wish to acknowledge it or no’, although it likely lays buried somewhat inside you since you have no’ had the chance to be guided by our people in the full use of it. I too am part fae and can sense your ability.”

  She grinned and cleared her thoughts. “Fiona, I’ve used force once afore. I’ll try to do so again.”

  “Good, then dress and we’ll be away.”

  She tossed her drying cloth aside and donned the shift the maid had left folded on the end of the bed. From the ambry, she whipped out a gown of the darkest color, one which would aid her in blending in with the night. With the mountainous folds of blue-black fabric in hand, she eased the velvet over her head and the layers slithered down her body and brushed the polished floorboards. Front laces pulled together and tied, she slid her feet into the slippers the maid had brought then ran her fingers through her damp locks. “I’m ready.”

  “Then we leave, now.” Fiona looped one arm through hers and tugged her toward the door.