Highland Savior: A Medieval Scottish Highlander Historical Romance Book

by Alisa Adams

  * * *

  "When did you lose your eye?" she asked curiously, "if you don't mind me asking?"

  "Oooh…nigh on ten years ago," he answered, smiling.

  "Why are you smiling?"

  He laughed.

  "Because you have to smile or you would go mad!" He took a sip of tea. "I was a bit drunk - more than a bit - I got aggressive and so did somebody else. I don't remember anything that happened. This is what I was told later, and I was unconscious for a long time. I wasn't expected to live, but I did because I'm too stubborn and spiteful to die!"

  * * *

  She laughed.

  "I'm glad you did," she said softly.

  "So am I lass," he picked up her hand and kissed it, "especially now."

  She looked at him keenly for a moment.

  "May I see it?"

  "It's not a pretty sight," he replied, "if you'll pardon the pun."

  He peeled back the eye patch. He had not been lying when he described the injury. It was indeed ugly.

  There was a mass of wrinkled and puckered flesh on either side of a jagged line where the remains of what was left of his eyelids had been crudely stitched together. Above and below this were smaller scars where little pieces of glass had been embedded. Maisie reached out and touched the scars gently with her forefinger. Findlay held the patch up and let her look at it till she was satisfied.

  "Shocked?" he asked. She shook her head.

  "I am glad that you were spared," she said fervently.

  He kissed her softly.

  "I have only known you a few days," he said gently, "and yet I feel as if I have known you forever."

  * * *

  "I feel the same," she replied, "but I must tell you something."

  "Yes?" he asked anxiously.

  "While we are sitting here talking," she began, "our tea is getting cold!"

  He was silent for a moment, then he threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

  "Then let us drink it," he said when he calmed down, "to your health, Maisie."

  "And yours, Findlay," she replied, as they clinked their cups together.

  "Do you have to go back?" he asked sadly.

  She nodded.

  "Yes, I do, Findlay," she sighed, "but if what we feel for each other is real, it will stand the test of time. If not," she shrugged, "then it was never real, to begin with."

  * * *

  He nodded slowly, looking into the fire.

  "You are right," he agreed, "but that is so easy to say. The reality is harder. I have never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you, Maisie."

  "I have to go," she said regretfully, "the Mistress has arrived home from her ride with the Laird Logan."

  "Fortunate couple," he said sorrowfully, "they can stay together."

  Maisie said nothing else but smiled sadly then turned and left the room. Two days later they all went home.

  Rosina dressed very carefully for the gathering on Hogmanay night. The snow was four inches deep, so she wore a thick all-enveloping winter cloak and a fur muff over her dress. It was a lace-trimmed lilac dress with a fashionable bustle and a bodice that gave the tiniest hint of her full bosom. Maisie had piled her abundant golden-red hair on top of her head, having spent most of the afternoon coaxing it into curls and ringlets. When she had finished she put on a ruby necklace that had been her mother's, together with a set of matching earrings.

  "Mistress," Maisie said rapturously, "you look beautiful!"

  "All thanks to you!" Rosina reminded her.

  "It's my job, Mistress!" she pointed out, "but it makes me very, very happy to see you look so pretty."

  "Thank you, Maisie," Rosina's voice was grim, "but tonight I have a job to do, so I need to look my very best. Tonight I am going to speak to Connor McPhail, and I have awkward questions for him. So this is not just a dress, for I am going into battle!"

  57

  Connor's Story

  "Are you all right?" Rosina asked Logan, who was crouched on the floor at her feet. He was cramped and frozen, and thought Rosina's question a very stupid one, so he only nodded and smiled.

  "Poor love," she said sympathetically, "we'll be there soon."

  When they rattled through the gates Logan jumped out of the carriage and disappeared into the shadows. Hugh and Rosina went inside where they were greeted by the host and escorted to the table where the buffet was being served. Monique had decided not to go since she did not want to spoil Hugh's plan by antagonizing Connor.

  * * *

  They mingled with the company for half an hour or so before seeing Connor, who was on his own, but looked very relaxed, laughing and joking with a crowd of other Lairds and wealthy farmers, the cream of society in that area of the Lowlands. Rosina stood looking at him for a full minute till she caught his eye and gave him a tentative smile.

  He returned it with a deep frown from under his brows, then gave her a formal little bow before turning his body away from her and presenting her his back. She took a deep breath and joined the circle of men around him, smiling. At once she was welcomed into their company.

  "My Lady Rosina!" Gordon Strachan extended an arm to include her in their group, "I am so glad you could come!"

  'Thank you for inviting me, my Laird," she replied warmly. She looked around at the bright decorations, the crystal chandeliers, the gorgeously colorful satins and laces of the ladies' dresses and the bold shades of the lens' tartan kilts. There must have been easily two hundred people there, she thought, all trying to be heard above each other. There was a fiddler who could hardly be heard above the din, but Rosina tapped Connor on the shoulder and had to almost shout in his ear to make herself heard.

  * * *

  "Connor - may I speak to you for a few moments? I will not keep you long."

  He looked at her and nodded tersely, then she led him to the main door in the big hallway, where she turned to him. She looked adorable, he thought, but he refused to let his heart soften.

  "Lady Rosina," he began, deliberately using her formal title, "I cannot think of anything you may have left to say to me."

  "I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you last time I saw you," she said humbly, looking at her feet, "my only excuse is that I was still upset about Alasdair, and any thought of another man, especially his brother, was abhorrent to me at that time. I am truly sorry."

  Connor looked down at her, stony-faced for a moment, then reluctantly said: "I will consider it, my Lady. I was very hurt."

  Just then, Hugh came up behind Connor and tapped his shoulder.

  "Good evening, Connor," he said pleasantly, "how are you?"

  Connor's face darkened.

  "All the worse for seeing you, Buchanan," he glowered at him, then at Rosina, "you are no lady, Rosina. You set a trap for me."

  "I am a lady in name only," she replied, as the door behind her opened to admit Logan, "but when my family and my love is involved, I am a tigress."

  Connor's eyes widened, and he smiled sarcastically.

  "Ah, the Laird Fraser," he said, in a mock-friendly tone, "how are you my friend?"

  "Still well, in spite of all your best efforts," Logan said grimly, stepping so close to the smaller man that he had to tilt his head backward.

  "What do you mean?" Connor asked defiantly, "I have done nothing to you!" He stepped back into the solid body of Hugh, who was standing right behind him.

  * * *

  "Where shall I start?" Logan asked airily. "Before I left for the Highlands, I was almost arrested by two constables for the charge of murdering your brother Alasdair. I managed to talk my way out of it, but it might have been very different. When I came back a few days ago I found that I was still a wanted man, even though I have done nothing wrong. I had been told by my manservant to go and speak to Big Sam, who helps at the blacksmith. Apparently, he had been paid to spread rumors about me, specifically that he had seen me dumping your brother's body. He said that if he identified whoever told him to do it
his family would be harmed, so he said nothing. So we worked it out ourselves. You were the only person it could be. So tell us - why?"

  * * *

  "You're mad!" Connor shouted, "why would I do that?"

  Rosina chimed in then.

  "I think I know," she said in wonder, "it was because of me, wasn't it?"

  Connor looked at her as if she had lost her head.

  "Do not flatter yourself, Madam!" he said scathingly, "if I had wanted you I would have asked."

  "But you did, and I rejected you," she replied, "but I had not yet formed a relationship with Hugh then, so why did you want to harm him?"

  * * *

  Connor sighed and looked around him.

  "All of these accusations are baseless," his voice was exasperated, "I had nothing to do with any of this!"

  Logan looked at Rosina, then at Hugh.

  "I had hoped it would not come to this," he told them. He was wearing a little leather bag slung across his chest and hanging at his hip. Out of it he took a small leather-bound Bible, and held it out to Connor. "If you are telling the truth you will not mind swearing to it on pain of eternal damnation if you lie."

  * * *

  Connor began to tremble as he looked at the book lying on Logan's palm. he raised his hand as if to lay it on the pages but then drew it back. His face was anguished.

  "I-I cannot," he said, defeated, then took a deep draught of his whiskey. "I will tell you everything, but before I begin, I will make no apology. You have both wounded me deeply," he looked at Hugh and Rosina. "And I-"

  "What does this have to do with Logan?" Rosina interrupted, frowning, "this is not his concern."

  "Is it not?" Connor's eyes met Logan's in a duel of glares across the room, "tell me, Logan, does anyone at all like you?"

  "I do!" Rosina said stoutly, "I love him!"

  "And that is why you did not want me?" he asked bitterly.

  "No, Connor," Rosina answered levelly, "I did not want you because of the family you came from and because I do not love you."

  Connor shrugged.

  "So?" Hugh asked, "we are still waiting for an answer."

  Connor had dropped all pretense now, and his manner was proud and defiant.

  * * *

  "I wanted Rosina because not only did I love her - or thought I did - I knew that when Hugh died the estate would become mine," he said frankly, "and I knew that if Logan was hanged for murder I could buy his estate for a song - and the one in the North. He is so universally disliked it was easy to start that rumor! Then I would have had four estates to give me a huge income and I would have been the biggest landowner in the area. I could pass those estates on to my children. Then you stole Monique from me, and now I have no chance - I hate all women!"

  Hugh smiled languidly.

  "You never did have a chance, Connor," he said, "Monique is infertile. She needed your money to support her family, but you knew that. It would be good for your self-esteem to have a beauty on your arm though, and she was prepared to marry you first and tell you later, but I thought you were a man of honor and ought to know. I wanted to break off the relationship and I tried. She tried too, but we could not, but when you found out you would have thrown her out in the snow!"

  "With her loud sister and meddling brats!" he spat out, "yes, I would have. Now I know that she is infertile I am even more glad to be rid of her! And what of you? Did you not want more children?"

  "What I want or do not want is none of your concern," Hugh said flatly, "you are beyond contempt! You would use and intimidate a poor man, throw a woman and her family out of your house in midwinter and see an innocent man hang. And you would use my daughter. You are disgusting."

  "You stole my woman!" Connor roared, is that not contemptible too?"

  "She came to me of her own free will," Hugh corrected him, "no matter what happened between us I would never throw her out to freeze in the depths of winter!"

  For a moment Connor looked as if he was going to hit Hugh but stopped as he realized that a crowd had gathered, and it was a crowd that had heard everything that had been said. It was loud in the ballroom, but the people nearest the door had heard and drifted into the hallway, followed by others till the hallway was almost full. Even the fiddler had stopped playing.

  Connor, Hugh, and Logan had been shouting loudly enough for everyone to hear, and now Laird Strachan came striding down the passage.

  * * *

  "I have heard enough," he said sternly, "Connor, you disappoint me. As magistrate of this district I have to arrest you."

  Connor was struggling with the chains that two burly guards were attaching to his hands.

  "On what charge?" Connor asked indignantly.

  "Conspiracy to murder and perverting the course of justice," Strachan replied, then nodded to the guards who took his writhing figure away. Connor was squealing and protesting, but Logan stepped in between them.

  "Nothing happened to me," he said grimly, "I took away the woman he loved and perhaps he has cause to hate me, so please be merciful." Just then, the church bells began to ring in the New Year. Logan grabbed Rosina and kissed her as if his life depended on it.

  "I'm so happy," he laughed, but Rosina was less so.

  "Why did you do that, Logan?" she asked anxiously.

  Logan looked down at her troubled face.

  "I don't want him to hang," he said gently, "but he may serve some time in jail. Besides, I did dump the body, even if I did not kill him."

  Rosina smiled.

  "You are nearly always right, Logan," she leaned against him and felt the rumble of his laughter, "nearly."

  "We should get married," he suggested. She smiled.

  "Definitely," she agreed, "no more waiting. I can't stand it!"

  58

  A Surprise

  The double wedding of both Monique and Hugh, Logan and Rosina had been set for February 24th. Their dresses were being made by professional seamstresses, which caused Maisie great relief. She had not been looking forward to all the sewing involved in making one wedding dress, never mind two. A week before the wedding Rosina sent her to do an errand for her in Dumbarton, and suggested that she take the carriage. Maisie was mystified, since she and Rosina always went shopping together, particularly for lace and fabric. Today she had to pick out a piece of cream lace for Rosina's nightdress, but was nervous of doing it on her own in case it was not to Rosina's liking. She was getting outside the carriage outside the shop and giving instructions to the driver about when to come and fetch her when she heard a deep, familiar voice.

  * * *

  "Maisie," it said.

  She turned around and gasped.

  "Findlay!" she cried. She gazed at him for a moment, then threw herself into his arms.

  "How are you, Maisie?" he asked, kissing her softly.

  "I am much better for seeing you," she replied lovingly, "how did you get here?"

  "By boat," he replied, and took her arm, "where are you going?"

  "The haberdashery," she pointed, "how did you know where to find me?"

  "Rosina sent me a letter to tell me you were home the day she arrived back. I answered straight away and portioned my duties out. I got here yesterday evening."

  "Where have you been saying?"

  "A little inn over by the waterside there," he pointed, "the wind rattles the windows dreadfully in the gale but it will do."

  "I have to get the Mistress's lace," Maisie said anxiously "then we can talk."

  He followed her into the shop and she grabbed just about the first piece of lace she saw, then went out into the wild windy day again. She laughed out of sheer happiness and he grabbed her around the waist, whirling her around, then kissed her till she was breathless. Afterward, he held her for a long while. At last, he said:

  * * *

  "Maisie?"

  "Mmm?"

  "It hasn't been much of an acquaintance or much of a separation, but will you marry me?"

  She hugged
him as tightly as she could, then said thoughtfully:

  "If you had been a Mr McGillicuddy or a Mr McGonagle I might have thought twice, but I like the sound of Maisie Baxter, so I think I'll take a chance."

  * * *

  He laughed.

  "I like the sound of it too," he said, "you have made me so happy, Maisie."

  "Where are we going to live though?" Maisie wondered anxiously, "I live here and you live away up there. I can't bear the thought of leaving my mistress but I can't bear the thought of losing you either."

  "Your father and Laird Fraser have asked me to help run both their estates here," he replied, "I will be the assistant estate manager of Hugh's estate and would take over some jobs at Logan's too. It suits me well because being the sole manager is a very stressful job!"

  * * *

  "But two estates?" she asked incredulously, "can you do it?"

  "It will be hard work, but I wanted to ask you something," he took a deep breath, "you could be my assistant and still be near Rosina. You can do accounts, write letters and you are very good at talking to people. You are also good at organizing things. You would be a great help to me, Maisie."

  * * *

  "I would love it!" she said rapturously, "but where on the estate would we live?"

  "Rosina says we can choose a suite of rooms in Dumbarton Castle," he replied, "which is the kind of accommodation where I lived in the Highlands."

  Rosina put her hand over her mouth and shut her eyes.

  "I cannot believe it!"

  "If you do not mind being married with another two couples -"