The Highlander's Enigmatic Bride: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Lydia Kendall

  “That’s because they are the joke!” Caitriona replied, causing a new round of hysterics joined by the others in the hall.

  Isabel’s cheeks glowed red. Edan felt sorry for her, but also knew that his reputation was at stake if he showed too much kindness or leniency.

  “Sit, ye’ll be fine,” Edan whispered. Isabel sat in the chair and tried to sink as low as she could to avoid being stared at. It didn’t seem to work very well.

  To Isabel’s grave dismay, lunch was soup and bread, served with a wooden spoon. She smiled at Edan, trying to hide her distress. This was to be her chance, and yet it seemed a calculated decision to ensure she was unable to access any form of weapon, no matter how small. Even her bread came buttered.

  Isabel looked out to the many men and women eating, most of whom had full plates with roast and potatoes. But Edan, Caitriona, and Robert all ate soup with her.

  It left her certain that it was done intentionally.

  “Are we not to have any roast?” she asked, trying not to whine too much — but still give a sense of her displeasure — hoping he would believe it was a desire for a more robust dinner rather than cutlery.

  “Not today,” Edan said. “Ye must understand, most of me…subjects as ye call them…they wouldnae like to see ye with any meal requiring a cut. I’ll see if perhaps at dinner time they will serve us with our meat already cut. But for now, no knives at this table. And it’s another reason ye have me and me sister on one side of ye and Robert on the other.”

  “I see,” Isabel said. “You do not trust me.” She deliberately pouted, and it worked. A sympathetic look came over Edan as he watched her.

  “Now, ye dinnae need to be so sad. It’s only a matter of time before ye have them all wrapped around yer little finger. Now, eat yer soup,” he ordered, the last part sounding like he was talking to a child. Isabel found that she didn’t mind the taste too much.

  She ate and, this time quite enjoyed the soup. Isabel remained bothered throughout the dinner that she still had no chance of finding a weapon, but it was at least a sure sign that she would not be stuck in her room, and that more freedoms were coming to her.

  And at that moment, her eyes caught something unusual. A man with red hair, a man extremely familiar to her. A man that she had seen in her father’s estate many times.

  Charles.

  Could it be? Was it possible that her father had already sent a spy after her? That she hadn’t been as clever as she’d hoped?

  Charles met her eyes and gave a quick dip of his head to avoid notice from others in the hall. She kept her eyes trained on him, feeling both suspicious and insecure that he should see her with Edan so comfortably.

  “What is it?” Edan asked, leaning over and trailing after Isabel’s gaze.

  “Oh nothing,” she replied. “I am just noticing how all you Scottish folk seem to have red hair.”

  “Folk? Did ye just call us ‘folk’? Perhaps ye arenae as English as ye think!”

  “Forgive me,” Isabel laughed. “I suppose perhaps you are rubbing off on me after all.”

  “Ye havnae any idea how much I want to,” Edan replied suggestively. Isabel’s stomach flipped, and she stared at him for a moment while he went back to eating. She watched his lips, the opening and closing of his sharp jaw lined with coarse red hair. She gazed at his wide, blue eyes.

  She wanted it, too. And she knew she would not be able to deny it much longer. He had to die. And quickly.

  Chapter 15

  “Where she be? Where is the bonnie English lass?” Caitriona called from the hallway. “Ah! And there she is!”

  “Yes, hello, Caitriona. How do you do?” Isabel asked.

  “How do I do what?” Caitriona mocked. “Where are ye going?”

  “I just finished bathing and dressing. But I thought that I might indulge my new privileges to roam the castle, and I would very much like to go down and eat in the hall,” Isabel replied.

  “Aye, indeed! And ye shall. But first, ye must come to me rooms. I want to talk to ye. I have something I would like yer opinion on!” Caitriona said.

  “M-my opinion?” Isabel stuttered. It seemed strange that this brazen, outspoken Scottish woman might need the opinion of Isabel, a seemingly weak, spoiled English girl.

  “Aye, ye seem the type who could help me with a little project,” she declared, whooshing out the door and expecting Isabel to follow behind.

  They walked the two floors down to Caitriona’s level and went through the hallway of the wing until they came to an ornately carved door.

  “Here we are!” she said, pushing it open vibrantly.

  “How lovely!” Isabel declared, trying to be warm but having no real opinion at all and no idea what to say. In truth, Caitriona’s confidence startled her.

  “Thanks. Now, I have to tell ye the truth…” Caitriona said with an unexpected seriousness.

  “What is it?” Isabel asked with concern.

  “I lied. I have nae reason to bring ye here to me rooms, nothing I need yer help with. Me brother wants ye to have a friend while ye be his prisoner, and I figured I’d bring ye in here to chat and learn more about each other. I dinnae ken anything about ye except that ye are also a virgin,” she said bluntly.

  “Oh, yes, well, I suppose that is something to know about me,” Isabel said cautiously.

  Caitriona collapsed and sprawled her body across her large bed, and Isabel sat stiffly along the edge. Her discomfort was evident in her stance, but she wished to remain proper.

  “Have ye ever kissed a man, at least?” Caitriona asked.

  Isabel thought of Edan’s lips on hers, the feel of his body pressing against her. She guessed his sister would not want to know about that.

  “No,” she said.

  “Never? Ye poor thing, ye havnae any idea how fun it can be. So much power,” Caitriona said. Isabel remembered that power.

  “Well, I suppose power is not something I need,” Isabel said. She knew that it was frowned upon for women of her breeding to have any sort of power or authority. Without being a queen, women were meant to follow, never to lead.

  “Every woman needs power, at least a little,” Caitriona replied.

  “And is kissing the only thing that makes you feel powerful?” Isabel asked.

  “Ha! Not even. I take power. I feel powerful when I’m running with me horse through the woods. I feel it when I practice my skills with me bow and me sword. These things give me strength. I’d never want to lead— not like me brother. But power doesnae mean the same as leading,” Caitriona explained.

  “I suppose I have never thought of it like that,” Isabel commented. “And do you think your brother would trade his leadership for power?”

  “Never. Edan may be weak in his feelings for ye, but dinnae mistake him. He’s a right strong man. He has power, but power gives him nae pleasure. That man is a leader. He really wants to see his people succeed. Even if it means he has to be humble,” Caitriona explained.

  “I see…”

  “And ye havnae thought any further if ye’d want to be with him? I mean, do ye ken what a lucky woman ye would be?” Caitriona probed.

  Isabel knew this was an opportunity to build the fallacy that she wanted Edan, but she also knew she had to tread carefully. This was, after all, his sister she was speaking with.

  “Truthfully, as a prisoner, I feel that I should not allow myself the luxury of desire for a man who has me imprisoned. And yet, I find myself growing more and more helpless to these feelings. I do not know. It is quite a challenge,” Isabel said, telling herself it was a lie.

  “Aye, I can imagine it is. Do ye really think ye can resist him?”

  “I am not sure. I seem to be failing in my attempts to do so. Your brother is quite…well, I’m certain you do not wish to hear what other women think of your brother,” Isabel said delicately.

  “Ha! Lass, women tell me every damn day that they’d love to bed him. He’s considered quite a handsome bloke, and me fa
ither died before promising him to anyone. Actually, that’s quite rare. Normally he’d have been paired off by now, but I suppose me faither never found anyone decent enough,” Caitriona explained.

  “And how does your mother feel about it all?” Isabel asked.

  Caitriona signed. “Well, me mum isnae exactly in her best mind these days. Me faither died, and since then, we’ve seen her naught but four times, and it hasnae been the best of sights.”

  “She remains in mourning?”

  “Part of me thinks she’ll never be free of it,” Caitriona replied. “Anyhoo, now that we’ve come to be such good friends, let’s go as ye wish. We can see more of the castle and get some food if ye be hungry.”

  “Yes, thank you, I should like to wander,” Isabel replied.

  They both arose from the bed and left the room. Caitriona showed Isabel different rooms and different sections of the castle.

  “This wing is for the maid’s quarters. Oh, and that one is where the guards hold their meetings and strategize for our safety. Downstairs is where Edan meets with his council, but ye’ll see that when we get by there,” she said.

  “It is truly magnificent. All of it. Your brother showed me some of the rooms, and he showed me the library, but it is quite lovely to explore now that I am free of my own chambers,” Isabel commented.

  “Aye, it cannae be any fun to live yer life locked in there!” Caitriona commented.

  “No, indeed, it was quite miserable,” Isabel replied.

  “Well, now I’m showing ye what ye need to know most, but if ye ever need anything I havnae shown ye, all ye need to do is ask,” said her new friend.

  “Thank you, you have been most generous, Caitriona. I do not know how I might ever repay you for your kindness,” Isabel said sincerely.

  “Ha! Me kindness? Repay me? Well, I suppose ye can give us some English gold and maybe get yer country off our arse, but until then, give me brother a real chance. I ken he’d love a kiss from ye,” Caitriona encouraged. Isabel remained quiet, unsure how to respond.

  “Wait…” Caitriona began. “Ye did kiss him! I can tell by the blush of yer cheeks. Why’d ye lie to me?”

  “I thought you might not wish to hear of your brother’s…exploits,” Isabel replied. “Or that you might think lesser of me when you discovered that I have, in fact, allowed a man to kiss me.”

  “The only thing I’m bothered about is that we are supposed to be friends now, and ye telled me a lie. Ach weel, I forgive ye,” Caitriona said with a smile. “And I’m glad ye gave him a chance.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Isabel said, still feeling flushed.

  When her feet landed at the end of the staircase on the bottom floor, she saw Charles standing by the entrance of the great hall. He looked up at the sound of their voices and made eye contact with her for a moment before returning to his conversation with another man.

  “So, who joins for meals in the great hall?” Isabel inquired.

  “Most anyone who works on the grounds, like guards come in and out when they have changed duty. Even the maids and cooks. The stable hands. The council. Family. Have ye met me uncle, Callum, yet?”

  “No, I have not,” Isabel replied.

  “Ye will love him. Everyone does. He trained Edan after me faither passed, and he watched over our clan until Edan was made Laird,” Caitriona explained.

  “I see,” Isabel said.

  And perhaps he even helped Edan plan the attack. Maybe I will need two knives rather than one, she thought to herself.

  She watched Charles as the men laughed and joked before parting ways. He risked another glance at her. Mercifully, Caitriona was too busy talking to notice what went on between the two English bodies.

  Isabel knew that she needed to get him alone, that Charles would have answers for her about her father. That he would be able to give her a timeline of how long she had until her plan would have to be fulfilled, and Edan needed to be dead. It was undoubtedly only a matter of time before her father brought an army. At least, if Charles was here, that must be why.

  Caitriona went on to describe Callum’s skills in hunting pheasant, but Isabel interrupted her monologue to catch up with Charles.

  “You know, I don’t actually feel very well.”

  “Such a shame! Poor pet, ye ought to return to yer room for now. Can I bring ye anything to eat?” she offered.

  “No, thank you, I will come later,” Isabel said. And as Caitriona went into the hall, Isabel slipped around the corner where Charles had disappeared.

  Chapter 16

  “Ezra, come,” ushered the Duke who was sitting on his bench in the garden after a long day of worry.

  “Yes, brother. What is it?”

  “Are we moving forward? I have seen the weapons. Are they in the hands of the men?”

  Ezra sat beside the Duke on the bench. He eyed his brother uncertainly as the Duke stared into the distance like a dazed Cyclops.

  “I have seen to it,” Ezra replied, scratching at the back of his head through thick, dark hair. “And how are you, brother? Have you slept?”

  “There shall be time to sleep when my daughter is home,” he said.

  “Perhaps I could supervise for a time. Allow you a chance to rest,” Ezra offered.

  “What? You think I need assistance?” the Duke retorted aggressively. “I am more than an old man with one eye, Ezra. I am a man with exceeding authority. I am a man of power. And you think I need your help?”

  “I meant no such thing,” Ezra replied masking his anger.

  The Duke scoffed. “So you say. So you say, Ezra. But I am wiser than you expect. I know that you all see me as incompetent with my new injury. But I assure you — even with one eye — I have greater capacity for strength than you might ever know.”

  “Yes, that is my thought as well. In fact, I am certain you are correct. You are the Duke of Gordon, a man with great skill and authority. And I am naught but your brother. And as your brother, I say good day,” Ezra said, taking his leave.

  The Duke watched with his eye trained on Ezra’s back.

  “Yes, right you are! Be gone with you!” he shouted after him.

  The Duke remained in the garden for one more hour before another courageous soul crossed his path.

  “How is the plan coming on, Your Grace? Have you had any word from your spy?” William asked, walking the garden with the Duke of Gordon.

  “Indeed, we received word just yesterday. He will be meeting us as we come upon them on Monday. He has seen Isabel and assures me that she is being kept well in the castle,” the Duke replied.

  “Very well, Your Grace. I am glad to hear it, although I know we shall not have justice until she is free and your son’s murderer is dead,” William said.

  “Right you are, William. Soon enough we will have my daughter back. And the Scots will pay for everything they have done to my family.”

  “It is rather soon, now. Two days. Do you think it shall be a fierce battle?” asked William.

  “I think it shall be a quick one,” replied the Duke.

  Isabel grabbed Charles by the shoulder and turned him to face her. In a harsh whisper she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Why, lass, ye frightened me!” he replied in his Scottish accent, and smiled. He narrowed his eyes to angry slits.

  “I ask you again, what are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “Saving ye from the shame ye are bringing to yer faither,” he said.

  “Stop with that ridiculous accent. And what shame? I am seeking justice. Justice for my brother. My father will be proud of me once Edan’s blood has drenched the ground,” Isabel declared.

  Maintaining his accent flawlessly, Charles began, “Ha! Foolish lass. Yer blood will be that which drenches the ground. Ye be a child and yer faither is a noble man who wishes nothing more than to have one remaining member of his family. He has lost yer mother, yer brother, and now ye have foolishly gone and let yerself be taken as a prisoner.”

/>   “And?”

  “And that is why ye’ll never deserve to go home. That is why ye dinnae deserve to survive this after all,” Charles concluded.

  Isabel placed a hand on her breast. “What harsh and ugly words!” she said.

  “That’s what happens when ye say and do as ye’ve done. Dinnae take it from me, yer faither and uncle will be here soon enough. And if ye think I am angry on their behalf, just ye wait until yer uncle gets his hands on ye. I’ve heard him call ye selfish and spoiled for doing such an unconscionable thing to yer poor faither,” Charles warned.