by Carmen Caine
As he left, he saw Domnall raising the bottle of wine in a toast.
“To yer health, Fearghus!” Domnall’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “And a slow journey to the Gates of Hell!”
Ruan strode out the door with Cameron at his side.
They searched every part of the castle, and Ruan was nearly giving up hope when he noticed the stable lad nervously following him.
“Ach, lad.” Ruan frowned, addressing the lad for the fourth time. “What is it?”
“I…think I saw her, yer lairdship,” the lad croaked, licking his lips nervously. “She was dressed as a lad, told me to saddle the laird’s own beast, or she’d cut off my nose.”
Ruan blinked, exchanging a dubious glance with Cameron.
“I swear it,” the lad insisted. “I’m telling ye true! She was a wee thing with brown curls and all. I knew she was nae a lad, but she… she was very commanding, right fearsome, insisted on the best horse and set off through the gate at sundown.”
“I see.” Ruan nodded in distraction, finding the story preposterous.
“Aye, she could barely stay seated,” the lad added, shaking his head. “’Tis a wonder she did nae fall.”
Ruan paused, scowling a bit, and gave the lad his renewed attention. “She could nae ride?”
“Nay, my lord, nae a whit!” Came the reply.
Elation surged through him.
Cuilen didn’t ride with them. Instead, he stayed to see Fearghus’ passing. As uncle to the infant Fearghus had begot with his niece, he was now the overlord, and there were many matters to be set straight.
Domnall, Cameron, and a handful of others followed Ruan with haste, riding to the moors in search of fresh tracks. They headed south, while several other parties fanned out in different directions.
Ruan scowled, wishing desperately for a good tracking hound, but he’d scarcely finished the thought when he spied fresh hoof prints in the mud, pointing due south, and all at once he knew in his heart the tracks belonged to her and where she was going.
“She’s headed to Reenan!” Ruan broke into a wide grin, his heart growing lighter with each passing minute.
Domnall and Cameron followed, but they didn’t share his optimism.
Several times, Domnall pulled rein, suggesting they return for hounds, but Ruan insisted and pressed on, and soon after, they spied Fearghus’ magnificent beast tied to a tree outside Reenan’s croft.
“Aye!” Domnall barked in outright relief. “She’s a MacBethad.”
“Nay, she’s a MacLeod!” Ruan turned on the man, a wide smile on his lips.
“Get in there to your wife, lad.” Cameron permitted his lips to twitch upwards in the semblance of a smile. “Ye can both fight anon as to which clan she favors.”
***
Bree was having the most wonderful dream.
She was cradled in Ruan’s arms; he was holding her close, whispering how much he loved her, repeating the words over and over. It was a dream she never wanted to end. She wanted to revel in his embrace and listen until the end of time.
She burrowed closer, but then something soft and wet touched her cheek and her eyes flew open.
Disoriented, she stared in confusion. She was still in Reenan’s croft, but Ruan was there, holding her close, his tears falling onto her face. She was too afraid to move, afraid the illusion would disappear, and then she heard her father’s grating voice.
“Aye, she is a MacBethad. I told ye from the start that she was a strong, Highland lass.”
With a gulp, Bree lurched forward to throw her arms around Ruan’s neck.
He fell back on the floor with a surprised laugh, half dragging her out of the bed, but she didn’t mind. Tumbling after him, she began to babble, asking first of Merry, and then telling him of Silas, and ending last with Tormod.
“I stabbed him.” She frowned, lifting her head from his chest for the first time. “I…do not know what happened to him. He was so still. Surely, I …I didn’t…” She could not bear to think she’d killed a man, even one as evil as Tormod. She confessed her fear in a whisper. “I think I might have killed him.”
“Nay, I did,” Both Ruan and Cameron answered in unison.
“Aye,” Cameron amended curtly. “We both finished him.”
Flooding with relief, Bree lifted her head to see Cameron, Domnall, Reenan, and her entire brood gathered close where she huddled in Ruan’s lap on the floor. Suddenly shy, she pushed away, but he’d have none of it.
“Nay, lass,” Ruan said, hooking a finger under her chin. “I’m never letting ye go again. I’ll have ye as my captive until the day I die.”
He bent to kiss her warmly on the lips. It made her tingle down to her very toes.
“Aye, lass, I told ye from the start that ye would love him.” Domnall chuckled. “’Twas plain to see that ye were meant for each other.
***
They left the next morning, sailing a boat up the coast to Duntulm. Bree had spent the night in Ruan’s arms, taking comfort in the soft rhythm of his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. Neither of them had slept much, they had simply enjoyed each other’s presence.
“Aye, ‘tis good to see ye found love, Ruan,” Reenan had said, giving him a sisterly peck on the cheek.
Ruan had thrown back his head with a roar of pure laughter. After lifting Reenan up and twirling her in a circle, he set her down and enveloped her in a warm hug. “I’ll be expecting ye at Dunvegan, every year, to celebrate the birth of our newest bairn.”
Bree had blushed scarlet amidst all the laughter.
However, now on the boat, she found his words worrisome. As if sensing her mood, Ruan reached over and kissed the top of her head. “What is it, mo ceisd?”
“Dunvegan.” She frowned. “Surely… we aren’t going back, are we?”
His dark eyes widened a little in surprise. “We must! Dunvegan… is ours now, love. ‘Tis our…home.”
Home? The thought of Dunvegan as her home was absurd. The dark, gloomy castle filled with even darker memories was not the cottage of her dreams.
“’Twill nae be the same, lass,” Ruan assured. “As the Lady of Dunvegan now, ye can do with it as ye please.”
“I’ve always dreamt of a cottage by the sea,” Bree said and grimaced. “Not a castle.”
Ruan threw back his head and laughed.
With a sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder.
Chapter 25: The Gift
A month or so had passed. The morning held the hint of spring.
Bree stretched luxuriously.
She’d been having a decadently passionate dream of Ruan covering her skin in a multitude of kisses. She held still, not wanting the dream to end, but when it only grew stronger, she lifted her lashes to discover his dark, handsome face smiling down at her. She opened her lips to speak, but he promptly cut her off with a demanding kiss and swept her into a tide of emotions amidst his perpetual shouts of ecstasy.
The morning hour grew late before Ruan laughingly pushed her from the bed with his foot.
“I’ve had a wee surprise waiting for ye since last night, lass,” he said. “But ye kept on…distracting me.”
“The fault is all mine?” Bree questioned, sliding back under the covers.
After several moments, he groaned, nuzzling the hollow of her throat. “Aye, ye wee wild beastie.”
Adopting his accent, she whispered. “Perhaps it can wait a wee bit longer, aye?”
He kissed her passionately before jumping out and upending the covers to roll her out of the bed once again. “No more of these wily ways! I’ve something to show ye.”
From the floor, she watched him dress hurriedly. She could not help but admire the man; he was the finest of specimens, in both body and heart.
He dropped her gown over her head.
“Ye have to be clothed for this surprise, lass,” he announced. “Stay here whilst I find it.”
Mildly curious, she slipped into her gown and waited.
&n
bsp; Much had happened since returning to Dunvegan. Merry and Isobel had arrived shortly after. Merry was cheerful, and her mood had only improved upon hearing Fearghus had died a miserable death. The little girl had stood in the hall on the first evening to offer Bree and Ruan an official toast to their “forever, long-lasting, and truest of loves”.
Gone was her jealousy, never to return.
Dunvegan had brightened considerably by the day, in part due to the presence Jenna and her no longer nameless daughter, Morag, but there was still much to do. While she thought being The MacLeod suited Ruan, particularly well, she was uncomfortable with thinking herself the lady of the castle.
A knock at the door broke into her thoughts, and she smiled. “Yes, my love. I’m ready for your surprise.” She hopped on the bed and rolled on her back, playfully covering her face with her hands.
The door creaked open, soft footsteps approached.
“My wee lassie,” familiar soft tones whispered in the room.
Bree sat up. “Afraig!” She cried, launching herself at the tall, angular woman standing in front of Ruan.
Epilogue
“What a brawny, wee son ye have,” Cameron said. He lightly touched the tip of the infant’s nose as he lifted a mocking brow at Ruan. “And ye still say ye have naught?”
“Are ye jealous?” Ruan eyed the man.
Cameron tensed a little even as he smiled elegantly. “I’ve no desire for a bairn.”
Ruan laughed. “Aye, well, if ye insist, ye can be a wee bit jealous.”
Cameron handed the baby back, but something in the man’s face made Ruan pause.
“What is it, lad?” he scowled in concern.
“The King bids me to court,” the Earl replied in a distant voice.
It was not good news.
Ruan gave his friend a sympathetic look. “Mayhap ye should find a lass and wed her before ye go. Surely, there are a few ye fancy?”
“I would never curse someone I fancied with an untimely death! I’ve no desire to touch another lass for the remainder of my days.” The line of Cameron’s mouth tightened a fraction. “I’ve enough blood on my hands. I’ll nae wed again.”
Ruan said nothing. They both knew the chances of that were slim. Cameron was simply far too politically valuable to remain unwed.
“Forgive me,” The Earl said, and bowed. “This is a joyous occasion.”
“Nonsense,” Ruan protested, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Afraig and Isobel.
“’Tis time for the laddie to be fed,” Afraig said.
“’Tis too soon for that!” Isobel frowned. “He must be bathed.”
“Ach, after he is fed,” Afraig disagreed, reaching for the child in Ruan’s arms.
“I’ll have a say in what Ruan’s son needs,” Isobel almost growled, laying a possessive hand on the baby’s head.
“Bree’s son is quite famished,” Afraig said, glowering in return. She placed her fingers firmly on the child’s leg.
“Aye, but—” Isobel began, glaring outright.
“Be done, dearest of ladies,” Ruan interrupted, laughing at them both. “Shall we allow Bree to decide?”
They both snapped their mouths shut, having the grace to be embarrassed as Ruan bowed, leaving them in Cameron’s company. As he entered his private chambers, he saw Bree peering out the window.
Her expression made him hesitate.
“What is it, mo ceisd?” he finally asked, uncertain.
“The pipes ...” she said, craning her head forward.
He could hear the pipes below, mingling with the waves and the plaintive calling of the gulls.
“…And the heather on the hills ...” she continued, “…the amber bubbling burns, the ferns, and the silver birches ...”
Turning to face him, she stooped to kiss their son’s forehead before sliding her arms about his neck. “…the shining blue sea…the magic of this place,” she whispered. “I see now why you love it. This place is beautiful.”
“Aye,” Ruan agreed with a smile, but he was glancing down only at her and their son cradled between them. “Aye. ‘Tis this that truly is.”
Coming Soon:
The Bedeviled Heart
The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series, Book Two
By Carmen Caine
Kate placed a protective hand over her expanding belly. She was noticeably rounder now. The bairn was a strong one, constantly kicking her through the night.
She stood in the courtyard, soaking up the sun while listening to the plaintive wailing of the gulls. It was an unusually warm day for winter. Dunvegan was peaceful; she’d spent over a month in its walls. The laird and his lady treated her with such kindness that she was beginning to hope she’d found a suitable home.
She tried not to think of the Earl, but he was always in her thoughts. She heaved an exasperated sigh. He’d probably already forgotten her existence. It hurt to admit it, but Lady Elsa was right. Such a powerful man would scarcely think twice of a simple maid.
Adopting a bright smile to mask the wretchedness she was feeling, she returned to the kitchens and snagged a platter of meat. “Add more,” she ordered the cook, pursing her lips in disapproval. “This is for the laird’s table!”
The man shook his head, but followed her bidding in a jovial manner. “Feeling a bit pert, are ye, lass? Ye must be feeling a mite better.”
“I’m feeling much better,” she said, with a sunny smile. She almost felt she belonged in the place. Another month and it would feel like home.
On her way to the hall, she met her aged aunt.
“Ach, be careful there, love,” Isobel warned, a smile crinkling her old face. “No need to exhaust yerself.”
“I’m well, auntie,” Kate sang cheerfully, ignoring the riotous rumblings of her stomach. Aye, this babe was proving difficult. It was still impossible to eat, and she was markedly thinner. At times, it was almost unbearable to bring the dishes from the kitchens, but she’d managed to control her nausea thus far. “Ach, ye wee one, you must help your mother, now.” She whispered fondly to her belly.
Dunvegan’s main hall bustled with preparations for the holidays. Several children played boisterously amongst the tables. She stumbled a little, lifting the platter over their heads as they sped past.
The laird of Dunvegan caught her arm, steadying her with a brotherly hand. “Ach, Kate, why don’t ye rest a spell?” he suggested. He smiled in kind concern before adopting a stern expression to shout after the lads, “Be watchful, ye wee hellions!”
“I’m well, my lord.” Kate dimpled a smile at the man.
He and his lady were exceedingly kind. Several times, the laird had pressed her to reveal the father of her bairn. She knew he only sought to defend her, and while she was grateful for his protectiveness, how could she betray the man she still loved? It mattered nothing that he’d forgotten her. She should have known it would end like this. He was an Earl, far beyond her reach. Her own foolish heart had landed her in this predicament.
Raising her chin resolutely, she wrinkled her nose a little at the smells drifting past. “There is no cause for your concern, my lord.”
One of the lads returned to whisper excitedly in Ruan’s ear.
“Here?” Ruan’s dark brows lifted in surprise. “Now?”
Kate turned away, fighting a wave of nausea. Placing the meat on the high table, she descended the steps carefully to the kitchens once again to wait for the goose. She chatted idly with the cook until it was finally ready and was pleased her stomach lurched only a little as she made her way back to the hall.
This time, Ruan was standing before the high table with his dark eyes focused upon a cloaked figure blocking her path. He clasped the man’s shoulder in a familiar manner as his face flooded with concern. “Ye look right awful, lad. What happened? Surely, ye’ve nae been wed again?”
The wave of nausea returned with vengeance.
Covering her mouth with a hand, Kate attempted to step aro
und the newcomer to rid herself of the platter as soon as possible. A sudden waft of onions caused the bile to surge to her throat. Unable to stop herself, she dropped the goose and fell to her knees, retching violently.
She became aware of the man’s fine leather boots only after she had soiled them.
Horrified, she clutched her hands over her mouth, not knowing what to do.
“Kate?”
Oddly, the voice reminded her of Cameron.
“Kate?!”
Her mind went blank and then Cameron’s astonished face entered her field of vision.
“Kate! It is you!” he whispered, his face registering complete shock.
“What is this?” Ruan’s deep voice inserted itself. “Do ye know the lass, then?”
Ignoring him, Cameron slipped a hand under her arm and lifted her to her feet. “How can ye be here? I’ve been searching everywhere! Everywhere! I’ve been distraught!”
He did look awful, thinner, and grimmer. Dark stubble graced his chin. She’d never seen him so unkempt. However, even disheveled, he still exuded an air of grace. She shook her head with a wry smile. The man simply could not be anything but handsome, no matter what he did. Lady Elsa was his true match; they made an impressive couple.
“Kate!?” the Earl searched her face. “What happened? I’m at a loss how ye came to be here…of all places?”
Obviously, he hadn’t yet noticed her prominent belly. Instinctively, she shrank back, trying to make it smaller. It was silly. Her situation was far beyond hiding now. Her thoughts were a complete muddle and she was entirely unprepared for the sudden turn of events.
“Explain yourself, lad!” Ruan’s deep voice cut in. “Surely, ye canna be the one the lass is running from?”
“Running?” Cameron briefly glanced at him, mystified, before turning to Kate. “Running? Why—” he stopped abruptly as he spied the smooth curve of her belly. His eyes widened, “What is this?!”
Kate’s lassitude vanished. Drawing herself to her full height, almost reaching his shoulder, she replied fiercely, “’Tis no reason for ye to be distressed, my lord Earl!”
