Fate of a Highlander

by Baker, Katy

  "Ready?" Eleanor asked with a smile. "To walk down those stairs and marry the love of my life? You bet I'm ready. In fact, why don't we go now? I'm sure my work dress will do the job just fine."

  Thea looked scandalized. "It will do no such thing! Do you have any idea how long it took to sew this dress of yours? The seamstresses have been working on it for weeks!"

  Eleanor laughed. "Relax. I'm kidding.”

  Thea and Beth helped her to change into the beautiful sky-blue gown that had been made especially for today. It had a tight bodice and bell-sleeves with a long train. Early summer flowers were sown into the head dress. Once dressed, Eleanor held out her arms to either side.

  "How do I look?"

  Beth sighed and Eleanor saw a tear sparkling in the corner of Thea's eye.

  "You look amazing," she breathed. "Finn is a lucky man."

  There was a knock on the door and Beth answered it to find one of the pages waiting outside. Eleanor grinned as she recognized Donald. Freshly scrubbed and wearing his best outfit, Finn's tracker was barely recognizable. After the victory over Stewart's forces, Finlay had ridden out in search of his old squad and offered them places in the Dun Ringill garrison. They'd all accepted and now they worked as trackers for the MacAuley clan, under Finn's command.

  Donald cleared his throat. "If it please ye, my ladies, I've come to tell ye that Laird MacAuley awaits yer presence in the Great Hall."

  Despite herself, nerves began to flutter in Eleanor’s belly. She gathered herself with an effort. "Thanks, Donald. We'll be there presently."

  Donald nodded, gave them all a bow, and made his escape. Eleanor glanced at Thea and Beth and both women gave her warm smiles. They were her matrons of honor. In the absence of any family members of Eleanor’s own, Thea, as the lady of the castle, would give her away. It was a little unconventional but the MacAuley clan had gotten used to unconventional since Thea and Bethany arrived. A pang went through Eleanor as she thought of her mother and the father she could barely remember. They would have been so happy for her. Proud. She wished with all her heart that they could have been present today. To her surprise that familiar pang of guilt when she thought about her mother didn’t come. Just like Irene MacAskill had predicted, with Finlay she’d found what she’d been looking for all along. Peace. Acceptance. And forgiveness for herself.

  "What is it?" Thea asked. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," she replied with a smile. "Just thinking of home."

  Thea and Beth gave her a sympathetic smile. Thea squeezed her shoulder then lifted the carry-cradle in which her twin sons slept. "Come on. Let's get down there before Finlay comes looking for us." She glanced down at the sleeping infants. "And before these two wake up!"

  The three of them laughed and swept out of the room. Her two friends walked tight by her side as they approached the Great Hall. At the huge arched doorway that led inside, Eleanor hesitated, the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach. She was terrified and exhilarated at the same time. If she stepped through this door, there was no going back. She would be choosing a future that lay hundreds of years away from everything she knew.

  Not everything, she thought. Some things are no different no matter where or when you live. People. Friendships. Love. Finn's face flickered into her mind and the nerves evaporated to be replaced by eager excitement.

  They stepped into the room and the rows of guests turned to look at her. Beth had seen to the arrangements for the Great Hall and it looked beautiful. The high-ceilinged, cavernous room was decked out with ribbons and flowers and a group of minstrels were playing up on the balcony. Eleanor took in these details superficially as her eyes flew to the end of the aisle and the man who waited for her there.

  Finlay MacAuley stood with his brother, Camdan. The two men, one dark-haired, one blond, turned as the door swung open and even from this distance, Finn's eyes found hers. Her breath caught. His hair shone as shiny as a raven's wing as it fell onto his shoulders and he looked resplendent in his MacAuley plaid. A ceremonial dagger hung at his side. He no longer needed to avoid the touch of iron but he still wore the bronze weaponry in deference to the path that had led them both to this point.

  At the sight of her, Finn's eyes sparkled and the smile he gave her almost stopped her heart. Holy shit, he was gorgeous. He was strong and kind and more...everything... than she had ever dreamed. And he loved her. She could still hardly believe it.

  With Thea and Beth on either side, Eleanor walked down the isle. She barely registered the greetings or words of encouragement from the guests, she barely noticed the smiles and the warm nods of approval. She had eyes only for Finlay MacAuley, her love, the man who would soon be her husband.

  As they reached the end of the aisle, Thea and Beth took seats on the front row and Camdan gave her a mischievous wink, his grin wide and welcoming. Eleanor couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm as she turned to his younger brother.

  Finn stared down at her. He said not a word but the depth of feeling in his eyes was enough. They shone with all that he felt for her. He took her hands in both of his and together they turned to face Laird MacAuley.

  Logan looked every inch the stern leader in his MacAuley plaid, ceremonial sword and ermine-trimmed cloak. His expression was firm as he looked them over, resting his strong gaze first on Finlay and then on her as though assessing them both. But a moment later he grinned and the stern expression evaporated to be replaced by one of joy.

  “Ye all know why we are here,” Logan said, raising his voice so that it carried through the hall. “Just over a year ago we stood here to witness the marriage of my brother Camdan to his wife, Bethany. That day I didnae think I could have felt any prouder. I was wrong. Nor did I ever think I would see the day when Finlay, my youngest brother, would return triumphant to his clan. Again, I was wrong. The good Lord has seen fit to grant the dearest wish of my heart —indeed of all our hearts—and return Finlay to us. And not only that, but to lead him to his own love in the process. I canna describe the pride it gives me to have the honor of joining my brother, Finlay MacAuley, and Eleanor Stevenson in marriage and to welcome them both home.”

  Home. The word echoed in Eleanor’s head. As Logan began the words of the ceremony she gazed up at Finlay and realized that Logan was right. She was home. Home didn’t lie in some empty house in the twenty-first century. It didn’t lie in working 9-5 then blowing her wages in a bar at the weekend. It lay here, with this man who loved her and these people who’d accepted her as easily as if she’d lived among them her whole life.

  Finn spoke his words first, shining eyes fixed on her, hands clasped tightly to her own, as he made promises that would bind him to her forever. Then it was her turn. There was no stumbling, no hesitation. The words fell from her lips, eager to escape, eager to be heard and bind her to Finn.

  And then it was over. Logan was pronouncing them husband and wife and Finlay was scooping her up, kissing her hard and deep enough to make her head spin. An explosion of cheering and clapping threatened to take the roof off the Great Hall.

  Finn broke the kiss but pressed his forehead to hers so he could look deep into her eyes. “We made it,” he breathed. “Lord, I can hardly believe it.”

  “Believe it,” she replied. “This is real, husband.”

  He smiled. “Husband. I like the sound of that.” He straightened and took her hand. “Come then, wife. It’s time to show ye why the MacAuley clan has such a reputation for our hospitality.”

  AS IT TURNED OUT, THE MacAuley clan’s reputation was wholly justified. Hundreds of people turned up for the festivities, all of the inhabitants of the castle and pretty much the whole of the village as well. The Great Hall wasn't big enough to hold them all and so the gathering spilled out onto the training ground, a wide open area to the side of the castle. The summer weather was kind and the light lingered until well into the evening, meaning the festivities could go on all day and well into the night.

  Tables had been set up in rows sp
anning the training ground and when the tables ran out bales of straw were used instead. Eleanor, Finlay and their family, were seated in pride of place at the main table and from here Eleanor could look out and see the castle to her left, the village spilling down the hill in front, and the landscape of the Highlands stretching out into the distance. A warm breeze carried the scent of summer flowers and the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore. Eleanor took a sip from her goblet and sighed, feeling utterly content.

  Finlay squeezed her hand. He'd not let it go since the ceremony and Eleanor hadn't wanted him to. But now, as the first course was served he picked up their shared trencher and began piling food onto her plate as though she were a great lady and he a servant.

  Alice and her cooks had outdone themselves and the roasted grouse served with glazed and crispy vegetables was every bit as delicious as a meal you would buy in an expensive restaurant in the twenty-first century. The wine too was excellent, and Logan informed her he'd struck a trading deal with some Italian wine merchants that meant they would have a regular supply. More and more Eleanor was beginning to reassess her ideas about life in this time.

  After the meal there were Highland games. Eleanor hiked up her dress and joined in the tug-of-war, much to Thea's horror, and Finlay took on Camdan in the final of the archery contest and won, much to his elder brother's annoyance.

  Then, as it began to grow dark, candles were lit, and sleepy children were taken off to bed by their parents, the minstrels gathered in the open space between the tables and began to play. It wasn't long before many of the guests were up and dancing, some of them none too steady on their feet by this time.

  Logan leaned over to Finn. "How about it, little brother?" he said. "Ye used to be clan bard. Reckon ye've still got what it takes?" His eyes sparkled with mischief and challenge.

  "Got what it takes?" Finn replied. "I could outplay any of those so-called musicians ye've hired, brother!"

  "Care to prove it?"

  Finn accepted the challenge. He stood and, with Cam at his side, they strode down to where the minstrels were playing. As the guests saw what was happening, they began cheering and calling Finn's name. The minstrels bowed and moved aside, handing their instruments over to the two brothers. Cam took up the fiddle, Finn took up the lute and together, they began to play. It became obvious immediately that they'd played together many times before and despite the gap of empty years since they'd last done so, they slotted into it as if they'd never been away.

  Cam, it turned out, was skilled with the fiddle but he had nothing on Finn. Eleanor leaned forward, knowing she was watching a master at work. Finn's fingers moved over the strings of the lute in a graceful dance, coaxing a haunting melody from the instrument.

  Then he began to sing.

  Everyone fell silent. To Eleanor, it seemed as if the very world itself held its breath to listen. His voice rose and fell like the waves of the sea, hauntingly beautiful. He sang the same song she'd first heard him sing in Stewart's hall, a song of the Fae, and he held his audience spell-bound as he wove a tale of ancient, shadow filled groves, of meandering streams under moonlight, of rings of standing stones high on lonely hillsides. Eleanor felt goose bumps ride up her arms and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. If she'd thought Finlay could sing before, it was as nothing to the performance he put on now.

  Finally his song ended, his last note piercing the air for one, two, three heartbeats before falling into silence. For a second nobody moved, there was utter silence over the gathering. Then there was a chorus of yelling and cheering and banging of tankards on tables. The crowd shouted for more. But Finlay handed the lute back to the minstrel, gave a bow to the audience, and then strode off without a word, disappearing into the darkness.

  A look of concern flashed across Logan's face and he made to rise but Eleanor caught his arm. "No. I'll go."

  Logan nodded and Eleanor hurried off in the direction her husband had gone.

  She found him sitting by the stream that marked the northern boundary of the training ground. Finlay was sitting on the bank with his knees drawn up. He held his bronze dagger and was slowly turning it over in his hand, the moonlight glinting off the blade.

  Eleanor sat down beside him and he glanced in her direction.

  "Return to the feast, love," he said. "I'm sorry to have dragged ye from it."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Nah, there's only so much cake a girl can eat before she's sick. You did me a favor."

  He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

  "I dinna know why I chose that song," he said. "It felt right at the time. After all, the Fae are responsible for all of this, for everything that's happened to bring us together." He took her hand and the moonlight was reflected in his eyes. "And for that I'm grateful. I wouldnae change a thing. But it also brought back unpleasant memories."

  Eleanor reached out and gently stroked his cheek. "I know. But that's all they are now. Memories." She smiled at him mischievously. "And this is our wedding night. How about we start making some new memories?"

  He grinned in response. "I am, as ever, yers to command, my lady," he said with a little mock-bow. "Come. I have something to show ye."

  He stood then pulled her to her feet. He led her down to the stream’s edge and across a bridge. On the other side Finn took her hand and she hiked up her dress, allowing him to lead her deeper into the woods that lay on the northern side of Dun Ringill.

  The moon was so bright that even Eleanor could see the way and besides, even if it had been pitch black she would have trusted Finn to lead her safely. This was his element, where he belonged, and as they wove through the silver-dappled darkness she could see him relaxing in a way he rarely did when surrounded by the bustle and busyness of Dun Ringill.

  They walked for around half an hour, neither speaking, enjoying the night and each other's company, but eventually they began to climb, the ground sloping up gently to a large clearing. On the far side of this sat a house. Its lower story was constructed of large gray stones, its upper story made of timber and the roof of wooden shingles. Candlelight shone from the large windows.

  Eleanor stopped and stared. Turning, she saw that the elevated position of the house gave a fabulous view of Dun Ringill below and beyond that, the rolling, thrashing sea.

  "Do ye like it?" Finn asked.

  "Like it?" Eleanor replied. "Finn, this place is beautiful! What is it? Why have you brought me here?"

  "This was once my father's favorite hunting lodge," Finn replied. "And now it's ours. Our home. A wedding gift from Laird MacAuley."

  "Our...our home?" she said, turning to look at the little house. It was perfect, from the veranda that would allow her to sit outside, even on wet days, and enjoy the view, to the grassy clearing that would make the perfect kitchen garden for her herbs and remedies, to the stone-built outbuilding that could be used for drying and storing said herbs and remedies. Close enough to Dun Ringill to give easy access to her patients and yet far enough away that she and her new husband would have some privacy and Finlay would be able to enjoy the freedom he so longed for.

  She sent a silent thanks to Logan. The laird of the MacAuley, it seemed, understood his little brother far more than she'd given him credit for.

  Finlay was watching her intently, gaging her reaction. She turned and put her arms around his neck.

  "It's perfect," she said. "Just perfect."

  The smile that broke over his face nearly took her breath away. He lowered his forehead to hers. "I'm mighty glad to hear ye say so, my love."

  Then he scooped her up in his arms, kicked the door open, and carried her over the threshold. Somebody—she suspected Bethany and an army of helpers—had been in before them. The place fairly sparkled and was filled with flowers and garlands. Candles burned in all the windows and a roaring fire crackled in the hearth.

  There was a large, canopied bed in one corner of the room but Finn ignored it, instead carrying Eleanor over to the thick rug that sat in fr
ont of the fire, and lowering her gently onto it. He knelt in front of her. The firelight played over the lines of his face and reflected in his eyes. There was no sound except the crackle of the flames.

  "My wife," Finn breathed, as though testing out the word. "My wife." He ran a thumb over her cheek and Eleanor leaned into the touch. His hand, as rough and calloused as always, felt warm and wonderful against her cheek.

  She rose onto her knees facing him and placed her arms around his neck. "You know, you're gonna have to get used to that word. You're stuck with me now."

  His strong arms went around her waist. "Ah well, I suppose I'll just have to grin and bear it. We all have our cross to bear."

  Eleanor grinned. "Don't we just?"

  Finn's answering grin was mischievous. "I'm sure I can find a way to make it bearable. Mayhap like this?"

  He bent his head and gently kissed Eleanor's lips. His touch was light, the barest brush of his skin against hers, but it was enough. A tingle walked all the way down her spine.

  "Well, that’s a start,” she murmured.

  Finn kissed her again, more deeply this time, his lips moving insistently, forcefully. Eleanor moaned, her eyes sliding closed. His tongue forced her lips apart, forcing his way inside and she was happy to let him, their tongues each caressing the other. After a moment, his hands swept down her back to her buttocks, pushing her body tight against his. In response, Eleanor tangled her fingers in his luscious hair, pulling him into her kiss.

  He began pulling at the laces of her dress and in seconds he had it untied and was pushing it off her shoulders, pulling it down and exposing her breasts to the warm air. Finn rocked back, his eyes roving over her, his gaze dark with lust. Then he bent his head and took one nipple in his mouth, caressing the delicate skin until it hardened with arousal.

  Eleanor gasped and flung her head back, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders. Finn's hand cupped her other breast and Eleanor gasped a breath. Finn knew exactly what to do, knew her body as intimately as if it was his own, touching her in just the right way, in just the right places to bring all her senses painfully alive.