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

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by Lydia Kendall


  “Ye all ken I rarely speak in these meetings. I’m an old man, and no one wants to listen to the dronings of an old man. But today, it seems I have much to consider and to say. As for this Cormag issue, ye ken we cannae execute him.

  “What he did was terrible, but it was a mistake. He got too bloodthirsty in the battle. Oor enemy died as a result. I ken we didnae see James as an enemy, but he was merely defending his own men from a perceived threat,” Wally said.

  “As my council is at odds, should we vote, men?” Edan asked. They all agreed.

  “Right, who votes to reconsider the execution?” Edan asked.

  Callum raised his lonely hand. Edan’s eyes traveled the table from man to man, but it wasn’t until he reached the end that another hand shyly came up from Alastair.

  “Two votes to reconsider? Alright, and who votes to keep the consequence as discussed?” Edan asked. The other hands all raised quickly.

  “I’m sorry, uncle. It would seem that ye and Alastair are the only ones who feel that execution is the necessary step. We will surely keep an eye on Cormag, but for now, there is no more to be done,” Edan said with finality.

  In truth, he was surprised that his uncle had returned to the issue of Cormag, but he trusted that there must be a reason.

  Callum nodded his head in surrender before releasing another of his coughs and saying he needed a bit of whiskey to fight off the flu he was dealing with.

  “And what of the girl?” asked Robert. “What of this Isabel?”

  Edan remained quiet, allowing his council to make the decision as he could not bring himself to do so. He trusted that they would not call for her execution, but he did fear the consequences they may suggest.

  “We could lock her up, keep her as prisoner and go forth into battle for her. But I think we all ken that it’s a great risk and it’d likely leave the lot of us dead. We beat them back before but it wasnae without sacrifice, ye ken?” Callum said.

  “Aye, locking her up isnae the answer. It isnae final enough. Dinnae worry,” Robert said, noticing the worry on Edan’s face as he added this last part. “I’m nae suggesting execution.”

  There was an uncomfortable stifle of grunts as the men felt it was a direct mockery of Callum’s suggestion, but they all kept quiet, and Callum chose not to argue.

  “Then what?” Edan asked.

  Wally finally spoke up again. “If we wish to avoid battle and we wish to be rid of the problem with the girl, there seems to me to be only one solution. We give her back. Just as ye said. But while I believe we should go with yer solution, we ought to discuss the full plan.”

  Edan nodded in appreciation to Wally for using his wisdom and words to help. He was in pain that he was considered so weak because of Isabel, but grateful that he had learned of his limitations.

  Wally was by his side, a support that would call him out when he was wrong but regard him when he made decisions well. Callum was also someone he trusted to give him advice. However, he still felt uneasy about the interactions he had seen between Callum and Cormag.

  Robert stood by, his friend and companion. Someone he had always been just ahead of. In academics, in power, in love. Edan had been beyond his friend’s reach in all areas except for battle strategy.

  Yes, with these three men and all the others in the room, Edan knew that no matter the failings he exhibited, he was in good company. He was with men who would ensure the clan was protected, no matter what.

  “So, what is oor plan for handing her over?” Edan asked.

  “Well, first we threaten her. Then we put her on a horse and send her for the approaching English army when they come,” Wally said.

  “Threaten her?” Edan asked.

  “Aye, me Laird. That she must go directly to the army. If she doesnae, it’s an arrow in the head,” he replied.

  The men agreed and fleshed out the details to ensure that all would go well. The worst-case scenario was that the English might strike anyway. If that were the case, if it did happen, they would be ready for battle. Their army would be in defense from all sides.

  Edan stood with his lips tightly shut, wondering if all the world around him were wont to crumble.

  I have misjudged the woman I loved. I have done poorly at leading me clan. I have failed. In all of it. I dinnae ken what’s left for me if I’ve lost me way this much, he thought.

  The knowledge that Isabel was soon to be gone made his heart ache like he had never thought possible. But it was for the best. Either she must go now, or he would never be strong enough to resist her cries for forgiveness.

  Chapter 36

  Edan made his way to Isabel’s rooms where she was again a prisoner, although it would not be for long this time.

  The guard opened the door, and Isabel instantly flung herself at Edan’s feet as if she had been waiting all along for his arrival.

  “My Laird, I beg your forgiveness. I was wrong. I was utterly and painfully wrong. I love you. I am so sorry, please forgive me,” Isabel sobbed.

  Edan tried to make his face a stone, but he flinched in his own anguish. It was horrible to watch her so desperately plead and yet his pain was great enough to keep him strong.

  “I am here only to tell ye that we will be preparing a horse for ye. We believe the English, yer people, will be coming any evening and we need ye to be ready at all times. Oor plan is to send ye off with an arrow directed at yer skull,” Edan said. It hurt him to see her fear, and yet in a way it gave him a sense of satisfaction.

  “Then, ye have two choices. Ye can ride straight for yer own people and urge them to retreat and take ye home. Or ye can try to run and be shot dead. It’s up to ye, Isabel,” he said, giving her name a wretched taste.

  Isabel nodded in obedience, the tears still streaming down her face. She could not believe it had come to this.

  “Ye will take Beatrice. No need to send her back,” he said quickly, pushing his way out the door. It had been a small kindness, but he knew he wanted her to have something to remember him.

  Isabel wept again as he left. The fact that he was giving her the mare that she had ridden with him so many times had touched her. But the knowledge that she might never see his face again was agony.

  An hour later, a soldier was sent to get Isabel. She was taken to the stables and told to mount the horse, walk slowly to the forest, and wait for the signal.

  As darkness began to fall, the Scottish army was preparing itself. A single rider was sent out, knowing he would be fast enough to ensure that Isabel could go before the whole of the castle was attacked.

  It did not take long for him to send a confirmation signal of two brief blows that the army was approaching.

  “They are coming, me Laird!” cried Caitriona from her position atop the castle with bow and arrow ready. The English troops were still perhaps thirty minutes away on the hill when she saw them and called down to Edan in his place a few turrets below.

  Edan’s heart ached as he put the trumpet to his lips. A harsh, long blow was heard just beyond the meadow and into the forest where Isabel waited. Her signal had been sounded, and it was time for her to endure the punishment ahead.

  Acutely aware of the distant, unseen rider behind her, Isabel ensured she was not straying even a little from the center of the path. She had no intention of running away and could not bear the thought of an execution after all of this.

  Perhaps I deserve it, she thought to herself. For all I have done. For the lives lost in the first battle. For the way I broke the heart of an innocent man because I sought revenge before love. I should be killed. And yet, if it happens now, at the hands of the Scots, then a whole new battle will commence.

  Isabel felt agonizingly stuck. Still, despite everything, she knew her father needed her home. It was the only answer, although it left her with a million other questions.

  Will they accept me once they know the truth? Will I be executed there after all? For causing so much bloodshed? Or will they still return and battle the cl
an? Even now they may. Oh, Isabel, what a fool you were to ever step into that carriage with Charlotte beside you, she thought with shame.

  The ride in the darkness was frightening, but she realized that she was likely going too slow. Her father and his men would have learned from their last attack that it would be wise to disperse sooner, into the woods even. There was no telling that they would see her before launching their mission against the castle.

  With that, Isabel turned behind her to the pitch black of the forest and tried to mime to the invisible tracker that she was going to ride faster. If they did not understand, she would have an arrow in her head the moment Beatrice began to canter.

  Isabel struck the speckled mare’s side with her heel and they took off. No arrows flew past her. It had been understood.

  Riding swiftly through the forest, twigs cut against Isabel’s dress and left scratches on her skin. A solid, sharp branch ripped against her bicep and Isabel let out a gasp.

  She continued forward, bristling at the pain on her arm where blood began to soak through the torn fabric.

  Suddenly she heard noises all around.

  “Riders!” shouted the voice of an English soldier.

  “No! No! It is only me! It is Isabel. They let me go free. Do not attack them. I have much to explain, but it is not what you think!” she shouted, riding toward the dark figure she saw.

  Confusion raged around Isabel as she saw silhouettes of men on horses or hiding with their swords in wait for an ambush. The English had indeed spread out in preparation for this battle.

  They encircled her, not believing she was who she said.

  “A spy! She is a Scots woman pretending to be His Grace’s daughter. Don’t believe her!” shouted one soldier.

  “That is not true! I am Isabel!” she cried.

  “I don’t know, we need confirmation,” said another.

  “Please, take me to my father, and let us return home. There is no need for bloodshed tonight,” she begged from her position on Beatrice.

  The soldier agreed to take her to the Duke and allow him to decide whether or not the siege would continue.

  Edan waited in earnest, wondering if his people would be attacked after Isabel had been returned to her own family. He was feeling anxious when so much time had passed.

  Will they take her back? Will she even be accepted once they ken that she’s the reason for their losses before? Or is she going to be a fool and run off to avoid facing them and us? Perhaps she’s been struck down already. Or maybe they’re still planning to attack, he thought.

  “Anything?” he called up the turret to the archers who were in the prime location for a lookout.

  “Nothing, me Laird,” Caitriona replied. She was outfitted in her favorite battle gear, prepared for any enemy that may come.

  “Wait! Aye, I see something. It looks like they are moving back, me Laird. I think they are retreating!” she called with excitement. Caitriona began to jump in both excitement and also to get a better look, making sure her eyes were not deceiving her.

  A signal was heard from another rider they had planted to keep watch from the woods. It was the sound they had hoped to hear. The English were, indeed retreating. All would be well.

  Cheers resounded throughout the castle and in the air. They had come so closely to another battle, but the relief was palpable.

  Calls for whisky and wine were heard from the turrets, and even within the castle, the news spread fast. The women and children were let out of their safety zone and all celebrated.

  Caitriona came to Edan. She had barely had a chance to speak to him since Isabel’s identity had been revealed.

  “How are ye, brother?” she asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

  Edan closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to blink away the negative thoughts. He opened them again, and all thoughts remained, bombarding him at every side.

  “I will be alright. It isnae easy, Caitriona, this whole love thing. It isnae easy and it isnae always good. Ye ken I would have done anything for her. I defended her from so much. And this was what she had planned from the start? She came here only to execute me. She saw me as the enemy, pure and true,” he said.

  “And do ye think ye will ever see her again?” Caitriona asked.

  “I can’t imagine how,” he replied.

  “Well, ye could always follow her to England and force her to tell ye why she did such a cruel thing,” Caitriona suggested.

  Edan scoffed at her as though she had gone mad.

  Chase after her by going to England? Where I am hated? For someone who used me and plotted to murder me? he thought to himself.

  “What makes ye think I want to ken? She kept apologizing and trying to defend herself, but the fact is, ye cannae defend yerself for trying to kill a man that loved ye over a murder that he didnae commit. Ye are mad if ye think I’ll follow her. What she did was completely wrong, completely unforgivable,” Edan said.

  “I cannae deny that. But I want ye to consider how much she meant to ye. Because it was clear, brother, that ye had every intention of marrying her before ye kenned that she was who she was. Ye didnae care even that she was English,” she said.

  “Aye, and look where it got me. Look where it got us. We lost so many lives of oor people because of her actions. And on top of all of that, she came here for no other reason than to kill me. And she wasnae going to quit until she had.

  “We were lovers, Caitriona. I truly loved her, and she didnae trust me. She was still planning to kill me for her brother long after she should have known I would never have done such a thing,” Edan said with vehemence.

  “True…” Caitriona began. “But at the same time, ye love her. Ye love her quite significantly, in fact. Dinnae misunderstand me. I think she was a right bitch for doing what she did. But it doesnae change the fact that ye love her.”

  “But what does that matter now?” he asked.

  “Maybe nothing,” Caitriona said. “Or maybe everything.”

  Chapter 37

  The soldier took Isabel to the carriage behind the army troops. All the men watched her. Some were in awe of her beauty, having known nothing of her existence until they were ordered to fight. Others were hurt, having known that she was the reason they had lost friends in the previous fight.

  “Your father, my lady. He is here,” the man said.

  Isabel opened the door and saw a large, slovenly creature snoring. He barely resembled her father. She noticed the black patch over one eye and saw that he had a large bottle of wine near empty.

  “Forgive me, my lady. He had been asked not to have anything to drink before this night, but it would seem that he chose to disregard that order,” said the soldier.

  Isabel nodded silently and climbed in the carriage, nudging her father slightly.

  “Father, please wake up. It is I, father,” she said.

  The Duke of Gordon continued to snore. Outside the carriage, Isabel heard the sound of a horse and her uncle’s voice. She climbed out and saw him atop his brown steed. He gazed down at her with resignation.

  “Ah, you are here after all. After all this time. Come, get back in. We are in retreat. Your father will have much to discuss with you when he has woken, but for now, there is no need of remaining here any further,” Ezra said confidently.

  There is every reason to stay, Isabel thought to herself, already missing the presence of Edan at her side. She felt a brutal ache at the separation she had caused.

  She climbed back in beside her father who slept the whole journey back to England.

  Isabel could not rest. Each time she tried to close her eyes, she saw only the hurt and betrayal in Edan’s eyes.

  It was nearing dawn before they arrived, and Isabel tried again to shake her father awake.

  “Leave him,” Ezra instructed. “I will deal with it. You must go to your room. Rest. We will deal with you later.”

  His bitter tone cast further guilt and agony on Isabel. She had done so much wrong
and could not fix it. Her family, her lover, all were victims of her selfish whim.

  “Yes, Uncle Ezra, whatever you wish,” she replied.

  Isabel’s feet dragged through the door, past the maids and the butler who all stared at her, speechless. She made her way up the staircase and into her room where she closed the door and collapsed on the bed, weeping as she had never done before.

  It was in the afternoon when Isabel woke to the sound of knocking on her door. Charlotte came into her room with a bowl of hot water so that Isabel could wash up quickly.

 

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