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

by Lydia Kendall

  “Really?” Isla asked, surprised.

  She could never understand why the McDonald’s never tired of her presence in their home every day for such long hours. Perhaps that is what happens when two kids were best friends. Isla hugged Ewan, tightly, not looking forward to one whole night of separation between them.

  “Really,” Ewan confirmed, reassuring her.

  Isla got in the carriage waiting for her, feeling much better than the sour mood when she had arrived.

  Isla reached the castle just as the sun was setting and ran inside to find her father. Instead, she found a group of maids standing together and crying. As if on cue, they all turned to look at her and broke down further, scaring her in the process. Isla ignored them, going into the Great Hall in search for Sophie.

  She found Sophie sitting near the dinner table, patting her eyes with her handkerchief. Isla was shocked to find even Sophie was crying.

  “Sophie, what is going on…?” Isla questioned, terrified.

  “Oh, Isla.” Sophie cried out, pulling Isla into her arms. “Come, we must go to Da.”

  “Where’s Da?” Isla asked, looking around with fear. “What is happening?”

  Wherever Isla looked, she only saw tears.

  Sophie led her to her parent’s private chambers, knocking once on the door, lightly. Isla entered the room to find her father bent next to the bed with his face covered in his hands.

  “Da…?” Isla called out, walking towards him.

  Her father looked up at her, with red, swollen eyes and Isla gasped. He was crying, looking so utterly heartbroken that it made her tear up instantly.

  “Come here, me wee lass,” Fergus said to her, holding out his hand for her to take.

  Isla trembled as she walked to her father, making a vow to not look at the figure lying on the bed, covered in a white linen sheet.

  “Say goodbye to Mama,” Fergus broke down as he spoke, shocking Isla.

  “Nay, what do ye mean…?” Isla sobbed, hitting his chest.

  “Mama, wake up!” Isla started shaking Helen’s body. “Wake up!”

  “Shhh…” Fergus soothed, hiding her in his arms as Isla broke down.

  “She’s not dead!” Isla shrieked, tears streaming down her face. “She’s not dead!”

  “Isla, me dearie….” Fergus sobbed, unable to hold back his own sorrow.

  Isla pushed him away as she fell back on the floor. She wiped her tears and ran out of the room and into the hallways. She heard Sophie call behind her, but Isla didn’t stop. She ran. And she ran. Down to the Great Hall and out into the gardens. The moonlight may as well have been her only torch as she tried to escape. Somewhere on the grounds, Isla tripped on a rock and fell, rolling down the hill and sobbing.

  Isla felt hands wrap themselves around her, picking her up.

  “Come, Princess, we’ll get ye washed,” Sophie whispered, picking Isla up in her arms.

  “Sophie, I want Mama.” Isla sobbed, hiding her face in Sophie’s neck.

  “I know, Princess. I know.” Sophie crooned, sounding broken like Isla.

  Isla closed her eyes, allowing sleep to take her away, from this haunting reality.

  And the years began to turn and soon…

  Chapter 4

  No Longer Naïve

  “Ewan! Someone will see us!” Isla warned, trying to get out from under Ewan’s body.

  “Let them,” Ewan whispered and nibbled on her ear making her blush.

  “Ewan….” Isla whined, wanting to give into the pleasure but afraid of getting caught.

  Ewan straddled Isla, careful to balance his weight on his forearm and knees. “Alright, ye numpty!” Then rolled over on the tartan Isla had laid out.

  “Oh, don’t be so petulant,” Isla rolled her eyes at his pout, before laying her head on his chest.

  Ewan wrapped his arms around her. With her back to his chest, he realized this is where she belonged; they fit so perfectly.

  “Happy birthday, though,” Isla said, craning her neck to kiss his cheek.

  Ewan had turned twenty-five-years old today and was finally of age to take over as leader of the clan. His father was going to step down, wanting to spend some peaceful days with his mother. Ewan admired his mother and father for the way they had led the clan through so many difficult times toward prosperity and harmony. Ewan knew, without Isla’s father’s aid, the two clans would have fought till the end and probably killed each other.

  Unlike the rest of the Highlands, the Duggal’s and the McDonalds lived together in peace and brotherhood.

  Ewan looked deep into Isla’s eyes. “And where is me birthday kiss, me princess?” He questioned.

  “Ye will receive it soon. When we are not at risk of getting caught,” Isla clarified, blushing light pink.

  He moved to face her. “Me love, we are here in the middle of the forest. No one will find us.”

  Isla had packed a small wicker basket so they could have a little birthday picnic before Ewan would get too busy with the dinner feast where his new title would be announced. Although most people, including their parents, suspected their romance, Ewan and Isla had decided to keep it hidden. When Ewan became Laird, he felt only then would be the perfect time to ask her father for her hand in marriage. Ewan and Isla, best friends since being born, had gradually and over time fallen in love.

  Isla remembered that night, oh so clearly. Ewan had offered to drop her home on his horse. Isla was seventeen while Ewan was at the handsome age of twenty. His horse had strayed and galloped into the deep parts of the forest. Seeing they were lost and now stuck in the forest overnight, they slipped off the horse. Isla pulled a tartan off the saddle and lay it on a clearing.

  Perhaps they both feared the other would not reciprocate and chose not to declare their mutual love if the time ever became right. Yet, sitting in the forest under the pale moonlight, Isla and Ewan looked deep into each other’s eyes. Unable to hold back anymore, they had kissed, thus beginning a passionate romance that would grow stronger after that night.

  “I know, but we can’t be sure, Ewan,” Isla scolded, shaking her head at his persistence.

  “Oh alright,” Ewan said, getting up from the tartan and standing.

  Without haste, he held out his hand for her to take, he asked, “Shall we head back?”

  “Yer so easy to tease,” Isla giggled making him scowl.

  “What do ye mean?” Ewan groaned, feeling embarrassed as she continued to laugh.

  “Come here,” Isla said, holding her arms wide open.

  Ewan deliberated whether he should play hard to get or surrender. Her smile always his undoing made it hard to deny her, and he went to lie down again. Isla bent down to kiss his lips that she found soft and perfectly shaped. Ewan traced his hands on her face until he tangled them in her curly red hair, and she deepened the kiss.

  “I love yer hair,” Ewan mused, inhaling her scent.

  “It is like Mama’s, nay?” Isla had only a vague memory of her mother.

  So many years had passed since Lady Helen’s death, a time Isla remembered only as a child. Isla didn’t remember much except her father had been shattered, and she chose to take care of him. Ewan had taken care of her, along with his parents, who had time and time again proved themselves to be the most trustworthy friends. Sometimes Isla wondered where she would be had it not been for Aunt Agatha, Jon and Ewan, who loved her so much and cared for her quite a lot.

  Aunt Agatha was prepared to tell Isla all she knew about her mother’s life and all her hobbies and traits. Isla enjoyed her bond with Agatha, something so unique and dear to her heart. Soon enough, Agatha would truly become Isla’s mother. Even though they hadn’t officially discussed it, Ewan and Isla knew they wanted to marry each other. They were made for each other, how could they wed anyone else? Isla knew her father would not object; he knew how strong Isla loved Ewan. Once Ewan became the Laird, he could easily ask for her hand, and Isla’s father would not refuse.

  Would Ew
an and Isla be destined for a happily ever after.? Isla felt a strange sense of peace just thinking of a marriage with Ewan, a man who loved her more than anything. How could she possibly doubt his love for her? They were so comfortable together. Together, their friendship made it nearly impossible for them to fight, and their romance made the emotions between them more powerful to resist.

  “Mother misses her a lot; I can tell by the way she smiles when Aunt Helen comes up in conversation,” Ewan commented, kissing Isla’s neck.

  “Da misses her too,” Isla added, frowning.

  Sometimes Isla could see how much pain her father was hiding, because of her mother’s death.

  “Of course, I cannot even imagine how I would feel should anything disastrous befallen ye, Isla. I would go loony,” Ewan said, dejectedly.

  When their eyes met, they could feel the connection they were denying. Ewan pulled her close; rushing their lust through each other. He hitched up her skirt allowing her thighs to be exposed. She reached down to loosen the drawstring, letting her drawers fall to the ground. He pulled her closer; she did not push him away. She bent her knee and wrapped her left leg around his waist. With his wide palm, he roamed the back of her knee and alongside her thigh until it cupped the curve of her bottom. He teased her lips apart and their tongues performed the sweetest and most passionate of dances. With her body melding into his, she arched her back and rubbed her pelvis against his groin. Ewan groaned into her mouth as his free hand inched downward to massage her supple breasts. His right hand pinched her nipple as he bit her lower lip, showing no mercy.

  “Oh, Ewan.” Isla gasped as her head fell back in pleasure.

  Ewan scooped her up and laid her on the tartan. He knelt to straddle her. He kissed her one last time before tracing his finger along her jaw. His touch was studying her. He traced his tongue on the edge around her ear. The feeling was so delicious, and she felt the wetness between her thighs increase.

  He continued to trace her neck with his tongue, slowly moving to her neckline and down to that part of her cleavage that showed through her dress. As he slowly unlaced her bodice, he nibbled his way to her pelvis until he knelt between her thighs, positioning his head in front of her folds. He continued to remove the last of her clothing, paying detail to every inch of her exposed skin, and inhaled the scent of her arousal. Isla eased her legs apart, inviting him to investigate and he bent forward and settled on the heart of her femininity that would make her toes curl.

  Isla placed her hands into his dark brown hair, pushing his face in further as her body began to quiver. With his forefinger, he circled her folds and penetrated her entrance and stimulated her pleasure points. He could feel her orgasm building and stopped; she groaned.

  Ewan stood, taking her hand to help her up. Understanding what he wanted, Isla pulled him in for a kiss. She leaped into his arms and circled her thighs around his waist. Once again, he cupped the curve of her bottom to support her weight. He was strong enough to carry her towards a sturdy tree branch where he lowered her between his sweaty, hot body and the tree.

  “Ewan, please,” Isla begged, her voice becoming breathless.

  “What?” Ewan asked, his voice raspy and deep.

  “Enter me,” Isla ordered, giving him a determined look.

  She undid his drawstring, wrapping her small hands firmly across his massive length and placing it at the front of her wet, aching entrance. Ewan pushed in slightly, making her whimper before thrusting in completely. Isla pulled Ewan’s face towards her forcefully, kissing his red, swollen lips with all her might as he continued to move inside her. His pace increased as the sound of her groans elevated, making him feel closer to his climax.

  Isla came with a jolt as her walls clenched around his thickness and he finished inside her, biting down her neck to mark her.

  “Is the birthday boy happy now?” Isla giggled as they dressed up.

  “The birthday boy is late,” Ewan groaned, hurrying to change.

  “Why?” Isla asked, highly amused by his frenzied state.

  “Mother wanted me to go over the schedule for tonight,” Ewan explained, helping Isla lace up her dress.

  “Thank ye for meeting me,” Isla said, grateful for the time he always spent with her.

  “Nonsense, thank ye for doing all this, me love,” Ewan chuckled, feeling spoiled by her.

  Isla was always there to do things with Ewan, no matter what hour and Ewan couldn’t help but feel grateful for her friendship and love. She was his partner and his lover; he could not bear the thought of ever losing her. Over the past twenty-two years, she had been his only constant support apart from his parents. Ewan knew she would always be there for him and would risk her own happiness and safety for his.

  Ewan would do the same for her. He wanted to give her the world and all the joys in it. He knew Isla had had a rough childhood and struggled still with the loss of her mother. Ewan had made it his responsibility to remind her every day to focus on the good in life and to move on from the wrong.

  Ewan was ready to spend the rest of his life with her and was waiting for his title to be announced so he could propose to Isla and make her his wife. He knew she wanted the same. Even though Isla did not say it out loud to worry him, Ewan could tell she was concerned with him becoming Laird.

  It would undoubtedly change things and his routine, making sure he was involved in politics and in all the matters his father was currently engaged. It would take away the time Ewan promised Isla, and that is why Ewan wanted to marry her, so they wouldn’t have to sneak around. They could openly declare their love for each other and vow to respect each other as husband and wife.

  Ewan would not have anyone better than Isla to be his Lady, to be the Lady of the people as he ruled as Laird. Ewan, overcome with love, turned to look at Isla, who turned pink and gave him a puzzled look.

  “How are ye so beautiful?” Ewan inquired, goofily.

  “Ye’re such a numpty,” Isla rolled her eyes, hiding her face.

  Ewan walked closer to her, lifting her face with the tip of his fingers and pecked her lips.

  “If it were up to me, I’d stay here forever,” Ewan whispered against her warm lips.

  “I know, dear. But it’s not, so hurry up!” Isla joked. She picked up her tartan and shook off the dirt and wrapped it around her waist.

  “Ye’ll be there tonight?” Ewan asked, hopefully.

  “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world and neither would Da,” Isla promised and kissed Ewan’s cheek.

  They mounted their horses and headed out to their own castles. The forest was their meeting spot and easily accessible from both sides. The time when Isla feared horses was long gone, replaced by a passion for them and horse riding. Ewan had taught her over the years, and now Isla preferred using her own horse for traveling rather than the royal carriage. She knew it was very unlady-like, but her father didn’t mind, so long as she was happy.

  Isla wondered how her father would react to Ewan’s proposal, seeing as he already had his suspicions. Even though Isla had lied to him and said she was going into town to shop, she knew her father would’ve guessed she was going to meet Ewan. Isla and Ewan knew they could have waited to meet at night during the celebrations, but they couldn’t have been as open as they were in the forest, thus making it difficult to be happy.

  Isla had been missing Ewan quite a lot lately, as everyone around her was busy. Aunt Agatha had been busy planning the feast, Ewan had been busy preparing for his announcement, and her father was busy dealing with political matters.

  She was mostly left alone save for the time she spent with Sophie’s daughter Rachel, who was just a year or so younger than Isla. Isla really liked Rachel, as she was trustworthy and a kind person. She never treated Isla differently for being a princess and for that Isla was grateful.

  Isla reached the castle and handed the horse over to the waiting stable boy before heading inside to search for Rachel. She found her in the kitchen, getting a scol
ding from Sophie.

  “How will ye learn if ye don’t even try?” Sophie said to Rachel who stared at the floor.

  “Sophie please don’t scold me friend,” Isla interjected, pouting.

  “Sorry, Princess.” Sophie quickly said but not before giving her daughter a stern look. “Next time ye mess up the baking I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!”

  “Sorry, Mama,” Rachel apologized as Isla snickered.

  “Princess, yer father was looking for ye,” Sophie told Isla who turned pale.

  Could he be upset about her sneaking out to meet Ewan? Isla doubted it, but still she couldn’t help but feel scared.

  “I’ll go meet him later,” Isla said, delaying the meeting for now.

  Sophie nodded before exiting the kitchen and Rachel turned to give Isla a thankful smile.

  “Ye saved me,” Rachel breathed out, wiping her face with her handkerchief.

  “That’s what friends are for!” Isla stated, shrugging.

  “How was yer morning?” Rachel teased.

  Rachel was the only person Isla had told about Ewan and she always knew what the two were up to.

  “Magical!” Isla gushed, smitten.

  “Is he going to ask Laird Duggal for yer hand?” Rachel questioned, seriously.

  “Aye after his announcement. Everything will be perfect then,” Isla told her, excitedly.

  “I hope it works out, Princess,” Rachel remarked, hugging Isla.

  “I’ll go meet Da,” Isla announced before exiting the kitchen. She searched for her father in the Great Hall first before heading to his office, where he sat engrossed in some parchment papers, reading them with all his focus.

  “May I come in?” Isla asked, knocking once on the half open door.

  “When do ye ever ask?” Fergus chuckled, giving his daughter a reluctant smile.

  His eyes fell on Isla’s face and a sense of melancholy spread through him. Whenever he looked at Isla, he was reminded of his late wife. Isla had all the same features except the eyes, which were like his blue and piercing.