Highland Blazing: A Scottish Historical Highlander Romance Collection

by Raina Wilde

  She watched Teirnan’s shoulders begin to quiver, though he remained silent.

  “I respond to you so strongly because you are all I have ever known,” His eyes bore into her as if searching for some unknown answer. “Because at one time I loved you, and because you are right… we could have been great.” She pushed one condemnatory finger into his chest. “But, let me tell you this Teirnan Laramie. I may be your wife but I am no longer blind. You may think that you can always get what you want, but I promise you… you will never, ever, have my heart again.”

  As she drove her final words home, Deirdre felt a sense of fulfillment that she had finally confronted Teirnan about the truth. Too long had the secret hung between them. Too long had she been able to speak her mind to everyone but this man. Too long had she feared the crushing agony of saying the words aloud. Now, years later, she was glad that she finally had the courage to confront him.

  Awaiting his reply, his denial most likely, Deirdre stepped back and pursed her lips. What she had been expecting was a continuation of their heated debate. Instead, Teirnan broke his gaze away from her face and concentrated his complete attention on the floor between their feet, as if mentally assembling a complicated puzzle. After what seemed like an age he drew himself up to his full height and returned his eyes to her defiant face.

  “So this is what you think of me?” he spoke with measured words.

  “Yes.” She nodded, her voice no more than a whisper and with less confidence than it had possessed a moment before.

  “So be it.” He growled, and with a great lunge, he burst from the cave and into the bright afternoon light. His body transformed in midair from the magnificent musculature of his human form, to the plush frame of an agitated bear. His brown fur stood on end as his kilt and shirt lay in shreds beneath his lethal looking paws.

  With one long glance back at the cave, Teirnan let out a voracious roar before bolting into the depths of the forest.

  For three days he did not return. On the fourth, Deirdre shut herself in their chambers with the hope that everyone would stop asking her where he had went or when he would return.

  That truth was, she was not certain that he would return at all.

  She had kept a reassuring facial expression plastered on for far too long but the effort was wearing on her.

  What reason had he to abandon her? She asked herself this question many times as she paced along the floor of their chambers. Should not she be the one angry with him? He had no reasons against her; she had done him no wrong.

  The strangest thing was the Deirdre did not feel angry with him. It was as if by voicing the accusation, she had released the anger from her heart. That, coupled with their lovemaking, made it difficult for her to maintain her previous stance. She may not have forgiven him for the past, but she had lain with him willingly and he was not to blame for that.

  Hours later she tried to convince herself to rest, but fear of sleep kept her retracing her steps along the rug. Each night her mind had been plagued with the final image of his face before he had transformed. Such anguish. Such pain as she had never before seen across his features.

  Was it regret? She wondered. No, this had been different. This had been raw understanding, raw agony, but Deirdre still did not understand why.

  There was a soft knock at the door and Deirdre turned her back to the wooden frame. She was not hungry. She did not want the fire stoked, or a tonic made. The door clicked open behind her and, after a sort silence, closed again. Good, she thought, the servants were realizing that she wanted to be left alone.

  “Deirdre.” The smooth male voice beckoned from the far side of the room.

  Her eyes squeezed shut and she took a deep-breathed attempt at composure. When she felt herself properly gathered, she turned to face him but moved no further.

  “Husband.” Her acknowledgement of his presence was cold and efficient. The reality was that she could not bring herself to speak his name, the word too personal and indicative of their lovemaking.

  “We need to speak.” He took a step forward.

  “Yes. I suppose we must.” Deirdre had prepared herself for this moment. The inevitable conversation about how they were to function their marriage with as little unnecessary contact as possible. It was not uncommon, especially in arranged marriages. Deirdre even knew of a woman who had entirely separate champers from her husband, the pair never crossing paths except for the necessary creation of children.

  Teirnan gestured for her to join him on the cushioned bench, where he now resided. She bridged the gap by choosing the chair facing him, but maintained her distance.

  With a deep sigh he leaned toward her, placing his elbows atop his knees and clasping his hands in thought.

  “I have a very serious question for you, Deirdre, and all I ask is that you answer it honestly, despite your current opinions.”

  She watched him with narrowed eyes.

  “And if I choose not to answer?” she bartered.

  “You must.” When he sensed her reaction to his demand, he softened his tone and repeated, “Please, but you must. A ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ is all it will take. I promise you that.”

  “Alright then.” She conceded with clear reservations.

  “Deirdre,” he scooted forward on his seat, inching closer to where she sat just outside of his reach. “Before, when we were truly happy… before anything with Elaine, at the end of the summer if I had asked you to marry me would you have agreed? Would you have been happy as my wife?”

  “You can’t hypothesize as if things were different.” She stood in frustration at his silly questioning. He mirrored her movement and there they remained toe to toe. “At some point I would have found out anyways. It doesn’t matter when or how, if we were married or not, the result would be the same. I cannot pretend as if it isn’t so.”

  Teirnan’s hands settled on her shoulders and he waited for her to stop her tirade.

  “Answer the question, Deirdre.” His eyes bore into her own. “Would you have married me happily all those years ago? Did you love me that much or was it just a summer to you?”

  Deirdre’s brow furrowed in shock.

  “What kind of question is that?” she demanded. She would have thought the answer obvious.

  He released her and stepped toward the fireplace, his back toward her. “Answer it.”

  For a long while she stared at his back, wishing that she could see his face. Images of that fateful summer flashed through her mind. Had it been real for her or just a childish romance? The memories had become so tainted with anger that it took a moment for her to sort out an answer that was undeniably true.

  “Yes, I would have married you.” She whispered. “And yes, I would have been happy in it.”

  His head dipped low as she spoke. With a deep breath he drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and turned to face her once more.

  “Please, have a seat.” He gestured toward the chair she had just vacated and without further ado, left the room.

  Deirdre slumped into the chair with utter confusion. What had that all been about? Why had he asked her to sit and the proceeded to leave the room? Where had he been all of these days only to return with silly, impossible questions?

  After a few minutes, Deirdre was about to abandon her seat when the door opened again and Teirnan entered followed by a young female with her head hung low. Deirdre recognized her immediately as none other than Elaine, the scullery maid who had been found waiting in the isolated cave.

  Deirdre stiffened and moved to rise from her chair when Teirnan wordlessly motioned for her to remain seated.

  Elaine, sobbing with soft hiccups, was directed to the bench where she crumpled into a miserable heap.

  Teirnan passed the maid a handkerchief and allowed her a moment to collect herself before moving over to the fireplace and leaning against the mantle.

  “Tell her.” He commanded.

  The women sat facing each other, neither willing to meet the other
’s eyes. The air was tense and filled with anxiety. Elaine was clearly here against her will, and Deirdre wanted nothing more than to be free of both of the individuals who currently shared her chamber.

  Elaine blew her nose into the handkerchief before she began.

  “Lady Deirdre,” her voice quivered. “I came to ask forgiveness and pardon for…”

  “Let’s not lie, Elaine.” Teirnan interrupted.

  “Well I wasn’t sorry.” She wailed. “Not before, but I am now. I swear I am now!”

  “Just tell her what you told me and leave out the rest.” He sounded both angry and resigned, as if he just wanted to get to the end.

  Deirdre watched him with narrowed eyes, trying to anticipate his purpose.

  “My Lady,” Elaine began again. “I’m sure a woman of your status doesn’t remember a lass like me, just a maid, and…”

  “I remember you.” Deirdre kept all emotion from her voice.

  “Yes, well, he said you would.” Elaine’s eyes shifted to Teirnan for an instant and then away, as if she feared him greatly. Deirdre supposed that as her laird he had the ability to make her life miserable, should he choose.

  “Well, you see… the summer you visited I was working as a scullery maid. I’m off helping a midwife a few days away now, seeing as Lady Skye said she wanted me off of the estate after… well after that summer.”

  Deirdre’s appreciation for her friend grew. Skye had always been observant but never had she pressed Deirdre for details of her sudden departure that summer. Deirdre had assumed that no one else, but she and Teirnan, had known the true story. Apparently, Skye had a singular skill at keeping secrets.

  “So, anyways, M’lady, that summer was my first of marriageable age and my father was pressing me to get married… one less mouth to feed, you know.” Elaine shifted uncomfortably. “Well I had this terrible longing for Master Teirnan, laird Teirnan, I mean. There aren’t that many young women here at the estate and I figured that I had a fair chance of catching his eye, until you came to visit.”

  Deirdre sighed. She had no desire to hear the story of Elaine’s seduction of Teirnan.

  “The thing is, that Mast… laird Teirnan never returned my attentions, not for lack of trying on my part. He was not interested in me before your visit, and once you were around no lass had any chance of catching his eye.”

  Deirdre stared hard at Elaine. Could this be true? She longed to see Teirnan but he stood out of sight, watching the women from afar.

  “My father wanted me to marry the butcher’s son, a mean, brutish lad who had no interest in a scullery wife. I would have done anything to get out of that arrangement, you see? Anything!” Elaine’s eyes pleaded for Deirdre to understand, to not hold her actions against her. “I followed Teirnan one afternoon and I saw your meeting at the cave. I know it was wrong, but I waited there the next day. I hoped that I would meet with him and I could make him love me like he loved you.”

  Deirdre was having trouble breathing. How did she know that Teirnan had not forced Elaine to tell this lie?

  “Instead, you showed up. I figured that I had a better chance of getting you to leave Teirnan in anger than convincing him to choose me over you. So, I lied.” She admitted. “I wanted him for myself so I drove you away.”

  Deirdre raised a shaking hand to her mouth. She was hesitant to believe, and yet, her heart told her it was true. However, she reminded herself, there was still much left unexplained.

  “No.” Deirdre shook her head. She saw Teirnan tense in her peripheral vision; clearly he had wanted her to believe. “No.” she repeated. She turned towards Teirnan and directed her statement to him. “You were happy to see me go, you said so. And even these following years there has been nothing but hate between us.”

  Teirnan looked at her with tentative eyes.

  “Tell her the rest, Elaine.” Never did his gaze waver from Deirdre’s.

  When she turned away, back toward the tale-weaver, his look was like a physical touch that burned along her skin.

  “Yes, there’s more.” Elaine blew her nose in preparation to continue. “I knew that laird Teirnan would chase after you, begging for an explanation, so I needed to ensure that he had no desire to follow you back to the castle.”

  Deirdre’s heart thudded in her chest. She felt the strange urge to vomit, as if everything inside of her were being wrung out and twisted.

  “I convinced my brother to do me a service. I had to do his chores for a month, but he agreed to help.” She added the side note as if the month’s chores were penance enough for her plotting. “He is about laird Teirnan’s age, you see. So, when all the lads go out to run as bears they usually do some talking afterward at the town fire. Well, Ian might have said some things to your husband that maybe weren’t the most honest of tales, but they put a fire in his heart against you once and for all.”

  “What tales?” Deirdre’s words were a whisper even to her own ears.

  “Lady, please…” Elaine begged.

  “Tell her.” Teirnan instructed.

  Elaine sighed, visibly defeated.

  “Ian might have said that you had lain with him a time or two, and maybe that you joked about fooling another lover into thinking you cared.” Her words came out in a rush of admission.

  Deirdre could not believe her ears. She stared, open-mouthed at the scullery maid.

  “Ian made to joke about the other man, and so laird Teirnan took it as meaning himself, obviously, and the deed was done. You left the next day and I never thought twice about it except that Teirnan still never laid eyes on me. When he demanded that I tell the truth, I was proud. Then he told me you’d married but hated him anyways. It was then that I knew I’d done wrong. I truly am sorry, Lady and…”

  “That’s enough, Elaine.” Teirnan interrupted again, “You may leave us.”

  Elaine fumbled to stand and gathered her sodden skirts around her. With a wobbling curtsy and quite a few more sobs, she left the room.

  Deirdre stared at her hands. Her mind raced over and over Elaine’s words.

  Had these past years been wasted, as Teirnan had said that day in the cave? Had they lost happy years, a happy marriage to the lies of a bitter maid and her falsehoods?

  Teirnan came to crouch in front of her. His hands closed over her own, hiding the tremors that caused them to shake. Still, she could not look at him. All her hate, all that time… for nothing?

  He had never been unfaithful? Hated her for the same? When the truth was that their love had been real, and lasting, the entire time.

  Finally, she laid her hands upon his cheeks.

  “I don’t know who this Ian is.” She felt the need to ensure that Teirnan, who had been battling the same anger as she, know with absolute certainty that she had only ever belonged to him. “It has only ever been you.”

  Teirnan made a sound that was half laugh half sob. “I didn’t know Elaine. Only you.”

  She dropped her forehead against his and felt a tear fall from her cheek to his. “What a pair we make.”

  “Deirdre,” He set her away from him so that he could look at her with absolute sincerity, “You said that you could have been happy with me, before all of the lies. I know that we haven’t started off on the best foot but, we are married already, and I can only hope that you’d be willing to try to love me again.” When she began to speak, he hushed her and continued. “I need you to know that I’ve always loved you. Even in my anger I loved you. I had to force myself to remember what Ian had said, to remind myself that you had thought us laughable, in order to maintain my anger and even then, I often failed. For me, it could only ever be you. You have my mark.” He laughed. “You have my heart.”

  He wiped away the tears that were now falling in a continuous stream from Deirdre’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry that we’ve lost all of this time together, and especially that we did not enjoy our wedding and marriage as we should have, but we can only move forward from this point on. Please tell me
if you can remember? If you might be able to try to love me again?”

  Deirdre shook her head and watched all the hope drain from his face as she tried to get the words past her tightened throat.

  “No, Teirnan.” She cupped his face once more. “I don’t need to try to love you, or to remember, because I already do. I don’t think I ever stopped either, no matter how hard I tried. And now, now that we know the truth, I can’t help but love you all the more, for being exactly the man I had always thought you to be.”

  With that she pressed her lips to his and allowed her kiss to translate all of the love that was so difficult to express. He kissed her back with a ferocity that left her laughing.

  “Teirnan, slow down.” She giggled. “We have our entire lives ahead of us.”

  “Aye,” he admitted, “but I should have had at least two sons by now and what’s a laird without his heirs?”

  “Oh.” She feigned a serious tone. “That’s very true. I suppose we’ll have to work on that.”

  She shrieked and laughed when in one swift motion he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the bed.

  “We much time to make up for, and I intend to start right away.” He laughed as he landed alongside her on the mattress. “Deirdre Laramie, I love you.”

  Deirdre pretended to contemplate her answer but was too happy to come up with anything witty and so she settled for the obvious, “And I love you, my laird.” Her whispers and giggles were muffled by the pleasant sound of their lovemaking—their first time, as husband and wife, in their marriage bed.

  THE END

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  About the Author

  By day she is a loving wife and a respected working mother. But when the sun sets and the shades are drawn she becomes Raina Wilde, the devilishly naughty romance writer with an insatiable appetite for lustful tales with happy endings.