Desiring The Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  Ellenor grimaced. She was going to have to do a lot better job at hiding her feelings. Just as she was about to walk out of earshot, she heard Conor say in complete awe, “Lord, wife, you are beautiful. Once again, I will have to fight the urge to pummel every man who looks at you.”

  She leaned against the stairwell wall for a second and then headed to Laurel’s chambers on the fourth floor. They were empty and provided the privacy of a good cry. She had never been a jealous person, but hearing how much Conor loved his wife, witnessing the admiration and approval in Donald’s eyes when he had seen Brighid, hearing the love in Aileen’s voice when she spoke of Finn…these were things she wanted to have and never would.

  Ellenor had no idea how long she cried, but a sudden shout reverberated up from the inner yard followed by several others. It was dark and the bonfires had been lit. People were packed around them as drinks from the buttery began to be passed around. She was late.

  Wiping her eyes dry, she pinched her cheeks and walked out of the room and down the stairwell. She hadn’t gotten two steps out the tower door when several men engaged in a jovial shoving match slammed into her. Barely escaping injury, she tried to wind her way through the throngs of people. They were celebrating, and after hearing bits and pieces from the crowd, she knew what about—Cole had been named the McTiernay laird for the northern nomadic clans.

  Eager to find him, she continued to weave her way across the inner yard. Most clansmen she encountered ignored her. She had nearly reached her target of the Great Hall entrance when a large arm suddenly wrapped itself around her waist and lifted her into the air.

  “Damn, if you aren’t the bonniest thing my eyes have ever seen. I have been gone a long time, bòidheach, and I want to be welcomed home properly!”

  The arm belonged to a soldier but not one she recognized. “Put me down!”

  “Nay, woman. I’ll put you down when I find a space where you and I can be alone.”

  The man was drunk and slurring his words, but his grip was firm and he was walking away from the Hall and toward one of the nearby dark corners. Panic flooded her and she was suddenly back on the floor of her father’s solar, pinned down on the floor with a man’s hand on her legs. In her mind, Cole came and saved her, killing the beast who held her. But Cole was nowhere in sight. No one she knew was.

  The man pressed her against the wall so that her feet dangled a foot off the ground and held her there by her waist. She would have screamed, but his lips were over hers, smothering all attempts to yell for help.

  Ellenor began to thrash and kick and bite anything she could find that was soft, fleshy, and capable of feeling pain. The man yelled and suddenly she was in the air. A sharp pain shot through her back as it collided with the ground. As fast as she could, Ellenor whirled onto her feet and disappeared into the shadows. The instinct to run far from everyone and everything was nearly overwhelming. Her mind raced, trying to find a place she could be alone and in complete control of all things around her, but before she could think of one, another thick male arm slinked around her waist, pulling her once again into a hefty chest.

  “Mmm, you smell good,” the raspy voice said, twirling her around.

  Shaking, Ellenor closed her eyes and pleaded, “Please, let me go.”

  Immediately he did as she asked. Her feet touched the ground and Ellenor felt the weight pressing down upon her suddenly lift. She looked up at the grisly face beaming down at her and returned the smile.

  The man backed up a foot. “Ah, lass, for one as bonnie as you, I’d do anything. I’d fight all the men here tonight for one of your smiles. Tell me your name, love, and I promise to be yours forever.”

  Ellenor was about to turn around and try running again when another man’s voice stopped her. “Seamus, be warned. This is Cole’s Lady Ellenor.”

  Her eyes darted to the source of the deep authoritative voice and realized it was Jaime, but before she could sigh in relief, he gripped her arm and firmly tugged it, compelling her to follow.

  “Jaime Ruadh, please let go.”

  Jaime firmly shook his head no. “In this crowd, I could lose you again.”

  Ellenor’s feet could barely move quick enough to keep up with him. “Could we slow down? Where are we going?”

  “We are looking for Cole. He’s somewhere out here searching for you and I am pretty sure that if he doesn’t find you soon, men are going to find themselves hurt if not worse.”

  “Why?”

  That stalled Jaime. He paused to look back at her, his face full of incredulity. Sliding his grip from her arm to her hand, he again started his mad march through the courtyard, pushing anyone aside—male or female—who got in his way. “Because Cole saw that man grab you, and unless we find him and he sees you are unharmed—”

  “He saw that?” Ellenor interrupted. “Why didn’t he help me out!” For the first time since the encounter, Ellenor started feeling less scared and more angry.

  Her voice caught the attention of several onlookers, all of whom looked past Jaime as if he weren’t there. Ellenor shouted, “Look out!” but Jaime was already moving as one large heavyset farmer began his attack. A second later, the farmer was in the air and fell to the ground with a hard thud.

  Without wasting another second on the drunken group, Jaime grabbed Ellenor’s hand again and proceeded toward the Lower Hall. Along the way, he tried to explain. “Cole was in the Great Hall, watching through the windows for your arrival. By the time he spotted you, it was too late. I don’t know what he saw, but he began to bellow out orders. Donald is right now gathering men in the Lower Hall, and unless you can be found, unharmed, Cole is going to demand blood.”

  Ellenor remembered the promise he had made to her. That she would be safe behind McTiernay walls. He must have thought he had broken an oath, the one thing Cole held more dear than all else. His honor. She had to get to him and explain it wasn’t his fault. “Oh, Lord, where is he?”

  “Somewhere hunting that man down.”

  Just a moment ago, she had wanted that very thing. For Cole to find the man who had attacked her and kill him, but now that it was actually about to happen, Ellenor wasn’t sure of anything. “Then why are we headed to the Hall? We’ve got to find Cole.”

  Jaime shook his head, beads of frustration forming on his brow. The closer they moved to the Halls and the kitchens, the thicker the crowds became. Shoving people out of the way was slowing their progress. “Before Cole does anything, he will meet with Donald. We need to get there before he does.”

  Ellenor could see the rooftop of the Lower Hall and sighed in relief. They were almost there.

  She was just about to point and say it looked like they made it in time when suddenly someone snatched her arm sleeve to get her attention. Instinct caused Ellenor to pull free from Jaime’s grasp and turn around. “Brighid?!” she yelled.

  Her friend, who had looked stunning just hours ago, was still wearing her new deep rose bliaut, but most of her curly hair had sprung lose from its constraints. “Thank God I found you,” Brighid gushed. “All these people I never thought it would be possible. You must come with me,” she said, her words tumbling out in heavy breaths. “Now.”

  Ellenor pulled back her sleeve and pointed to where Jaime was waiting impatiently. “I cannot. I absolutely have to get to the Lower Hall—”

  “No,” Brighid huffed. “You must come with me now.”

  She clutched Ellenor’s forearm and pulled, but Ellenor stood firm. “I must get to the Lower Hall. We will talk later—”

  Brighid gave her a narrowed look, her vexation evident. “You are coming with me! Right after Cole started yelling, Donald, the laird, and all the men left. And a minute later, Laurel went into full-blown labor. We found out she had been having pains all day.”

  That got Ellenor’s attention. She felt Jaime tug on her sleeve, but she gestured for him to wait. “What? Why didn’t she say something?”

  “When Laurel gave birth to the twins, it took a
long time. A real long time, and she just figured this would be the same. But it seems this bairn is coming soon. Hagatha is worried. She said something about it not being right and Laurel asked for you. She’s scared and needs you now.”

  Ellenor stared for a moment at Brighid’s pleading brown eyes and then glanced back at Jaime. His patience was waning, and there was true fear of what would happen if they didn’t arrive in the Lower Hall soon. She looked back at Brighid. “Has Conor been told?”

  Brighid shrugged her shoulders. “The men had left when the pains started coming in earnest. I don’t know whether she told him or not. My guess is no; otherwise he would never have let her come down for the festivities.”

  “Where is she?” Ellenor asked, hoping she wasn’t still in the Great Hall.

  “We had a couple of servants carry her to her room and I went looking for you.”

  Ellenor nodded in acknowledgment. Turning back to Jaime, she said in an even, decisive voice, “Jaime, return quickly to the Lower Hall. Find Cole and Donald and let them know that I am well but that it is urgent to find Conor. His wife is in labor and there are complications. We will tell you as soon as we know more.”

  Then without waiting for Jaime to agree or argue, she turned and followed Brighid to the Star Tower. Away from the kitchens and fires, the crowd was not nearly as thick, yet several times, she and Brighid were stopped by one or more drunken men, barely able to stand. Ellenor, now prepared to be unexpectedly accosted, felt herself elbowing sternums, kicking groins, and aiming for knees with more ease than she would have thought possible. Finally, they reached the Tower’s entrance.

  Hurrying up the stairwell, Ellenor heard Laurel cry out and rushed into her friend’s day room. Inside were Aileen, holding Laurel’s hand, and Hagatha, who was at the end of the bed, her face tense and bothered. Laurel was in bed with her eyes closed, her bliaut discarded and her chemise wet along her chest and arms from perspiration.

  Walking straight toward her friend, Ellenor nodded at Aileen on the other side and whispered, “Laurel, I’m here. Brighid found me. You have us all now.”

  Laurel reached out and found Ellenor’s hand, but before she could say anything, her back arched and the veins in her neck bulged as another pain struck. After a few seconds, a gush of air came out along with a holler of, “Oh God, something is wrong.”

  Ellenor reached up and brushed Laurel’s hair back off her forehead and murmured, “Nothing is wrong. You’re just having a baby. Just think, when this is done, you will have a beautiful child to hold and love.”

  Hagatha moved the chemise up and placed her hands on Laurel’s distended stomach, pushing at various spots. When done, she shook her head at Aileen. Laurel’s best friend, who seemed confident in any situation, was crying. Fear ripped across her face and one word, barely audible, escaped her lips. “No…”

  Alarm seized Ellenor. “What does she mean, no? No to what? You aren’t saying Laurel is dying, are you? I mean…she can’t be.”

  Hagatha stared down at her hands with a look of helplessness. “She said her mother died in childbirth. I should have known to be more careful, but I thought with the last one, I thought…”

  Ellenor grabbed the old midwife’s shoulder and yanked on it. “You thought what?”

  “I didn’t think it would be a breech. She said the baby was kicking her ribs. I assumed the baby was down.”

  Ellenor licked her lips, struggling to understand what the old woman was trying to say. “So you are saying the feet are down.”

  Hagatha nodded, still looking at her hands.

  “Then pull the feet. Can’t you do that?”

  “I can’t reach them.”

  Now Ellenor understood why Hagatha was staring at her hands. They were big for a woman. Knowledgeable and skilled, but large. Too large to reach in. At that moment another pain struck Laurel and Ellenor knew something had to be done and now. Her friend could not last much longer this way. No one could. “I can do it,” she heard herself say.

  “You?”

  “Yes, tell me what to do,” she ordered and shoved her sleeves far above her elbows. She quickly washed her hands in the basin and then sat at the foot of the bed. If she was going to do anything, it would have to be now and quick before Laurel seized again with pain.

  Hagatha blinked and then got herself together. “You have to reach in and find the feet.”

  Ellenor took a deep breath and then watched Laurel as she moved up and inserted first her fingertips and then her hand up the canal. Laurel twisted, but seemed only half-aware of what Ellenor was doing. “I’m in. I feel…I think I feel the bottom.”

  Hagatha took a deep breath and exhaled. “It would be better if the baby could be turned. Can you turn the child around? Find the shoulder and press and see if the bairn responds.”

  Ellenor began to probe. Never could she explain to anyone what it was like to touch a new life in such a way. She found the shoulder and gave it a small shove. Immediately it responded. Hagatha, whose hands were doing what they could from on top of the stomach, sucked in her breath. “I think you did it, stìorlag.”

  Ellenor smiled and was about to remove her hand when she touched a small ropelike thing around what felt to be the baby’s neck. “I think there’s another problem,” she said and then proceeded to explain what exactly she was feeling.

  “You must unwrap the cord and quickly. If another pain strikes, the baby will choke.”

  Ellenor carefully eased the slimy thick cord from around the slender neck. She pulled free just as Laurel’s back went rigid. Instinct must have told her to bear down, for she did with all her might. A second later a head appeared. Hagatha told her to keep pushing. Laurel took one last breath and suddenly the shoulders appeared, and a second later, a baby girl slipped into Ellenor’s waiting hands.

  Hagatha reached over and took the little red and white thing and gave a quick thump to the back. A small, defiant holler filled the chambers. Ellenor had never heard a sweeter sound.

  Quickly the baby was cleaned and swathed while Aileen and Brighid helped Laurel don a clean chemise and change her bedding. By the time, Hagatha placed the squirming child into Laurel’s arms, Ellenor finally returned to the present.

  “Oh, Laurel, she’s absolutely beautiful.”

  Laurel looked down at the mass of brown hair and stroked the small cheek. “You saved our lives, Ellenor. How will I ever be able to thank you?”

  “You came and got me when nobody would. You saved me first.”

  Laurel turned her head and said, “That reminds me. What happened? I was so worried about you! Cole was so angry…something about saving you.”

  “Shhh, I’m fine. A man grabbed me and I just had to convince him to let go. I didn’t even get a scratch,” Ellenor quietly reassured her friend.

  Suddenly she realized that it was true. A man had held her and wanted to hurt her, but he hadn’t. Not because of Cole. He hadn’t been there to save her. She had saved herself, not just that time, but many times tonight. She had been surrounded by men who were bigger and stronger than she was, but time and time again, she had forced them to keep their distance. She hadn’t needed to learn how to trust everyone else; she had needed to learn how to trust herself again. Isolation did not bring about control. That was the façade. Friendship made one stronger. And love could heal any wound. Cole had given her the means to finally feel whole again. Suddenly the urge to do the same for him was overwhelming.

  “Laurel,” Ellenor whispered. Laurel’s eyes were on the small little hand gripping her pinky. “I have to go. I will tell Conor the news, but if I am ever to experience the happiness you have on your face right now, I need to find Cole. I cannot wait one more moment.”

  Laurel nodded, smiling. “Go. Go and be happy. He loves you, so don’t let him get away.”

  Ellenor brushed back a tear of joy and said, “I won’t.”

  The words were still lingering in the air when she vanished into the corridor and down the stairwell. J
ust as she was rounding the last turn, she ran into something large and solid. It was Conor.

  “Oh, laird…”

  Conor grabbed her shoulders and his gray eyes pierced hers. “My wife?” he choked.

  Ellenor threw her arms around him and squeezed him hard. “She’s fine! You have a beautiful baby girl. Both are eager to see you.” She waved her hand for him to proceed by her.

  Conor paused and said, “If you are looking for Cole, he left shortly after Jaime arrived and said you had been found unharmed.”

  Startled by the news, Ellenor leaned against the cold stones for balance. “What do you mean ‘left’?”

  Conor stared at her for a second as if debating on what and how much to say. “I don’t think I have ever seen my brother so mad as he was this evening. When you didn’t come back with Jaime Ruadh, he nearly exploded and demanded he be allowed to go up and see you and verify for himself. He actually threatened me.”

  Ellenor erected herself, her brows bunched. She shook her head in disbelief. “But that doesn’t sound like Cole. He’s…he never…well, he’s always so damned composed.”

  “Up until he met you, I’d agree.”

  Ellenor gave Conor a slight smile. “I don’t think most people realize just how much he keeps inside. He’s not as detached as he wants everyone to think. Unfortunately, I seem to bring his more volatile emotions out.”

  Conor chuckled. “Strong perhaps, but I wouldn’t say volatile. Regardless, you definitely have an effect on him. As soon as we met, I knew he had changed and quickly deduced you as the cause. I wasn’t sure whether you would be a good influence on him, you being English and him a new laird.”

  Ellenor swallowed. “And now?” she asked, afraid to ask the question, but more afraid not to know its answer.

  “Now I think you are just what he needs. You unlock his soul. If you are lucky, you meet the one person in this life who can do that. I assume you feel the same way about him.”