Highlander's Burning Desire (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Alisa Adams

  34

  A Betrothal Broken

  Michael is a good man, Allana told herself over and over again. He is not a laird-in-waiting, but I will never want for anything. Though he is not Gavin... I cannot risk the Laird Ingram changing his mind once more. I must be wed to Michael or face a lonely existence. If only Gavin could understand... However, Gavin was behind her now and she resolved to keep it that way. From now on she would devote herself to Michael, heart and soul.

  To pretend her heart was not broken was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Allana ought to have known that she could pretend to everyone else but not her mother. Edme came into the parlor one day to find her sewing silently. This was unlike Allana who was always humming, singing, or even talking to herself.

  Edme sat down. “Is there something on your mind, Allana?” she asked, frowning.

  Allana looked up with a bright smile. “No, Mother,” she replied. “Nothing at all.”

  Edme sat and studied her for a moment. When it came to her daughters, her sixth sense was so acute that she might have been a palm reader. “Do not lie to me, Alana.” Her voice was firm and determined. “I want to know what is upsetting you. Is it Michael?”

  Allana shook her head, but her throat had closed and she could not speak. Edme came to sit beside her.

  “Are you sure?” she asked gently. “He has not... touched you in any way? Young men can be very forward.”

  Again, she shook her head and tears began to down her cheeks. Edme, alarmed now, wiped them away and put her arm around her daughter. This was not like Allana. Edme pushed her daughter’s chin up with her forefinger.

  “You are scaring me,” she said and she was indeed frightened. The last brick in Allana’s wall of resistance fell and she burst into tears. Edme held her tightly, then steered her upstairs to her bedroom and made her lie down.

  “Tell me,” she ordered.

  Allana composed herself. “Mother, I have made such a mess.” She rubbed her eyes then went on, “I was in love with someone else when I became betrothed to Michael, but I did not think he cared about me anymore. But it transpired that he had sent a letter asking Father if they could meet to discuss our marriage and I love Gavin with all my heart.”

  “Gavin? Gavin Ingram?” Edme was aghast. “But he is—”

  “Old enough to be my father? I know, Mother.” She sighed. “But I gave my word to father that I would marry Michael and I will.”

  Mother and daughter looked at each other for a long moment and then Edme got to her feet. “Allie, I must think about this. Leave it in my hands, and trust me. Can you do that?”

  Allana nodded, then held out her arms to her mother, and they hugged each other. “Everything will be fine,” Edme said softly, with a confidence that she did not feel.

  Thank God she did not ask if we were lovers, Alana thought. For I am a terrible liar!

  Edme went straight to Malcolm and explained the situation. “She is in love with Gavin Ingram or so she says,” she said helplessly. “Oh, Malcolm, what are we to do?”

  “Oh, Allie, Allie...” Malcolm put his head in his hands. “Why are you always so much trouble?” Then he brightened up. “This is just a childish fancy and nothing needs to be done, Edme. She says she will marry Michael. She will forget Gavin when she is wed.”

  “You would condemn her to a loveless marriage then?” Edme’s voice was threatening, but Malcolm ignored it.

  “Has he taken her maidenhead?” he asked.

  “I think not.” The question was so absurd that Edme had not even considered it.

  “That is the only reason I can think of that would stop the wedding,” he replied.

  “So, you would keep her to her promise?”

  “It is a matter of honor.” He stared at her and she stared back, but he looked away first.

  Michael was, on the surface, a quiet person. He rarely spoke unless spoken to first, laughed at everyone’s jokes, and was never harsh or rude. In fact, he was the perfect gentleman. He would never inherit a castle, but his father was a prosperous gentleman farmer upon whose death Michael would be wealthy in his own right. He was fair and Allana was dark. He was quiet and she was forthright. They complemented each other almost completely. If there was a flaw in his character, he kept it well hidden.

  When they were married, he told her, he wanted a big family, at least six children. This was not unusual since it was women’s lot in life to bear children and Allana had accepted it as her duty and had become resigned to the fact. She did not relish it though, not wanting to spend her married life permanently pregnant! Though, that was not Allana’s only concern.

  Michael had noticed and wondered what was wrong with Allana. He knew that theirs was an arranged marriage, but he had thought that Allana was at least as fond of him as he was of her. Now, although she was cheerful on the surface, he sensed an underlying sadness in her demeanor and wondered if she was regretting her decision to marry him. He decided to ask her.

  One evening, when she was visiting him at his home, they were sitting alone in front of a log fire in the big parlor. It was a beautiful room, although it was rarely used which was why Michael had chosen it. Above them hung a chandelier with fifty candles, their light sparking a myriad of colors off hundreds of crystals so that the white ceiling was striped with rainbows. It was the most stunning thing Allana had ever seen and she was hypnotized by it, so much so that when Michael kissed her, she was taken completely by surprise.

  She returned the kiss, trying to be enthusiastic, but he felt her reticence.

  “Allana?” he asked, puzzled, “you seem so sad.”

  She shook her head and gave him what she hoped was a bright smile. “I have not been sleeping well,” she replied. This was the truth. Since parting with Gavin, she had had very little rest.

  He looked at her with unease. “You still want our betrothal to go ahead? You have not changed your mind?”

  For a moment, it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the truth, but looking into his trusting eyes, she found that she could not. It would dishonor him and likely both their families, so she smiled. “Of course not,” she lied.

  The betrothal of Bettina and Allana’s cousin Joan was to be a festive affair with guests coming from all over Scotland to attend. Gavin had an invitation and decided to go desperate for another chance to see Allana. He put on his best finery and left for what promised to be the most riotous party of the year. The betrothal itself was a formality, more of an excuse for a celebration than a solemn exchange of vows. There were bagpipers, dancing, singers, lute players, and, of course, copious amounts of alcohol. Joan was a Laird’s daughter and no expense had been spared to make this event the biggest and most prestigious of the year.

  Despite herself, Allana began to enjoy the event. Michael was a good dancer and the music was lively. After two glasses of wine, she was relaxed but not drunk and she felt better than she had for a while. Things were going to be fine. Then Gavin came in and saw her at once. She was spinning around the dance floor and laughing at something her partner had said. He backed away into the shadows to escape her notice but continued to watch her.

  How beautiful she is, he thought, his heart aching and suddenly, he felt he could not bear to stay away from her. He could no more avoid her than a moth could avoid a candle flame. He was not the big strong man who could lift hay bales and tame horses anymore. In the presence of his love, he was as weak as a baby. In an effort to calm himself, Gavin turned away to go outside for a few gulps of fresh air unable to bear the sight of Allana with another man. He turned back to go see find her again and bumped into someone coming the other way then he grasped her arms to steady her.

  Alana had felt overheated by all the dancing. The heat of dozens of bodies was stifling and she had excused herself to take a breath of air while Michael was talking to a friend. Even with lanterns, the passageway leading to the courtyard was not well-lit and she did not see the approaching stranger until she bumped into him. Wh
en she looked up, Allana gasped. His features were indistinct in the darkness, but she would have known the scent of his body and the gleam of his eyes anywhere.

  “Gavin,” she whispered. Suddenly, the obstacles separating them and their quarrel meant nothing. She was in Gavin’s arms. He put out his hand and caressed her cheek, hardly believing that he was holding her again.

  “Allana,” he murmured, “I have missed you so much.” He looked down at the face that had become so dear to him. “Oh God, Allana. Forgive me. I cannot help myself.”

  Then he kissed her. It was at once tender and passionate. With his lips moving on hers and his tongue gently probing her mouth, Allana was in heaven. He pulled her against him until he could feel every soft curve of her body. She moaned with delight, for the moment oblivious to everything else but Gavin.

  Then, when it seemed that they would become completely lost in each other, they were rudely wrenched apart. Michael was standing glaring at them, his hands clenched into fists. He was breathing heavily with rage and as they watched he let out an almighty roar and his fist came up, swinging toward the point of Gavin’s jaw. But Michael had reckoned without the brute strength of a man who had worked in fields, delivered foals, and built stone walls. Gavin’s hand caught Michael’s fist halfway through its arc then forced it back to his side.

  A crowd had gathered, attracted by the noise, and were enjoying the sight of the two combatants who were standing glaring at each other with Gavin’s hand still enclosing Michael’s in a vice-like grip.

  Then Allana spoke up. “Let us go and talk,” she pleaded. “This is not the way to settle differences.”

  Michael rounded on her. Seeing Allana in the arms of another man had awakened an animal in him that he thought he had buried years before. He had the kind of anger that flared up rarely, but when it did, it was not easy to quench. Now, he turned his gaze on Allana and looked at her with disgust. “Has he bedded you?” he asked scathingly.

  “Michael! This is not the place to discuss this!” She was beginning to lose her own temper now.

  “Tell me!” he roared. “If you cannot tell me, it means that he has!”

  “Allana has told me that she still wants to marry you. She refused me.”

  “Really?” Michael scoffed. “Then what was that embrace I caught you in? That was no chaste peck on the cheek, m’laird! Keep her - I no longer want to marry her. She is a slut!”

  Michael’s blow may have been blocked, but the one he received from Gavin was not. His fist caught Michael on his jaw and he went down on the stone floor in an undignified heap. Gavin hauled him up again.

  “Apologize to the lady,” he growled, pointing at Allana.

  “I will not!” Michael spat back. “And I will not brawl like a drunkard either.” He took a glove from his pocket and threw it on the ground. “I will not fight for her.” He pointed to Allana. “However, you owe me a debt for my honor and my dignity. We can fight for it, man to man, in a duel.”

  Gavin stared at him in disbelief. “Are you mad?” he asked. “Have you ever fought a duel before? Do you understand that you might die?”

  “I do and I consider it worth the sacrifice,” Michael replied proudly.

  “I will pay you in gold for your honor,” Gavin told him. “I do not wish you to throw your life away.”

  “Ha! I knew it!” Michael laughed in scorn. “Spoken like a true coward!”

  Gavin walked up to him and pulled him forward by the front of his tunic so that their noses were almost touching. “I am not a coward,” he growled through gritted teeth, “but you are only a boy and I have no wish to see you throw your life away. Now, I repeat my offer. My money for your life!”

  Michael spat in his face. “What makes you think I will lose my life, old man?” he growled. “Dawn on Sunday next at the field beside the graveyard. That way they will not have too far to carry you when I kill you!”

  Gavin bent down and swept the glove off the floor.

  35

  The Duel

  Patrick, Michael’s father, had pleaded with his son to accept Gavin’s gold or apologize to Allana, but Michael’s inner demon would not allow it. Not only did he have a fierce temper when aroused, but he was as stubborn as a mule when his mind was settled on a course of action as it was now. He steadfastly refused to listen to reason. His mother and two sisters pleaded with him and Patrick McBride even called the local priest, Father Jeremy, to try to make him see sense. Nothing worked.

  On the allotted morning, the weather was clear and frosty. It had snowed the previous week and the ground was iron hard making it easy for the combatants to slip and even easier for either of them to injure himself. Allana had pleaded with Gavin to call off the duel altogether, but now he had become as angry as Michael. Allana was sitting in his bedroom watching him dress, her hands twisting the coverlets nervously.

  “Allana, you heard what he called you,” he said with disgust. “I will not have the woman I love subjected to that!”

  Allana sighed. “Does the woman you love not have a say in this?” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, then laid her head on his shoulder. “He is fit and muscular and... and young. I fear for your life.”

  “I have fought in battles and come out more or less unscathed. I hope I can put that experience to good use.”

  Allana nodded. “I am so scared,” she whispered. “If the worst should happen—”

  “The worst will not happen, my sweetheart,” he promised, “I will not let it, because I am fighting for us.”

  Then he kissed her and smiled, his eyes full of love. “You make me so glad to be a man,” he said huskily. “Promise me one thing.”

  “What, my darling?” She smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

  “That you will make love to me the moment I win this duel,” he said with a devilish grin.

  Allana laughed and then smiled. “I promise.” She nodded. “For I know you will win and make me proud of you. I love you, Gavin.”

  He gave her one last kiss and they left. They arrived at the field just before the duel was scheduled to begin. Michael was already there, dancing around as if practicing his moves, his claymore whistling through the air.

  “There is still time to lay your weapon on the ground, old man!” Michael sneered as they bowed to each other. Looking into Gavin’s merciless eyes, Michael felt real fear for the first time. This was not at all what he had imagined, but he had backed himself into a corner and there was no escape now.

  “I think you will find that it is too late, son,” Gavin replied silkily.

  Michael swallowed and stood upright, hoping that no-one could see how much he was trembling. Allana looked at both of them to see if they were ready. They nodded, never taking their eyes off each other, and then she dropped her arm to signal that the bout had begun.

  Michael had youth, but Gavin had a further reach, more strength, and more experience. He had fought in battle against the forces of the English army and had the scars to prove it. Michael came charging out like an enraged bull, but Gavin neatly sidestepped his attack and Michael stumbled, almost falling. When he recovered his balance, he was much more cautious.

  Gavin’s strategy was not to attack his opponent, but to tire him out so that he became careless. He did this by constantly stepping out of the way of Michael’s thrusts and raising his claymore high above his head when Michael tried to strike a blow at Gavin’s head. Several times, the young man carelessly gave away his lack of experience by letting his guard down and leaving himself wide open to a killing strike, but Gavin did not take advantage of it, merely pushing Michael further and further back until he was almost at the edge of the field and had little room to maneuver.

  The spectators gasped, cheered, and booed, but Allana could not make a sound. She stood silent and almost immobile while the claymores clashed against one another, but she gave a little squeal when Michael’s claymore nicked Gavin’s arm. It was only a flesh wound, but the blood
spread quickly, making the cut look much worse than it was.

  Gavin eventually decided that enough was enough since the boy was an amateur and quite out of his depth. He wanted to finish things quickly to save everyone any more pain. He forced Michael backward so that he was off balance and dropped his arm then stepped forward so quickly that the young man toppled backward and landed on the grass. The back of his head hit the ground with an audible thud.

  Gavin heard Michael’s mother’s agonized scream as he pointed the claymore to his enemy’s throat. He dug the point in just far enough to break the skin and release a trickle of blood. Michael’s eyes looked up at him, wide and terrified.

  “You have a choice,” Gavin growled. “You may choose death, in which case I will end your life swiftly and cleanly right this moment, or you may apologize to Allana for the filthy insults you hurled at her.”

  Michael held his hands up in front of his face. “Mercy,” he cried hoarsely. “I will beg for her forgiveness.” He struggled to stand up, so Gavin reached down to help him and they stood looking at each other for a moment. Michael dropped his gaze to the ground and walked over to Allana, dropping down on one knee in front of her. She could still see the hostility in his face, but she respected him for his bravery and she blamed herself for starting it all.

  “Mistress Allana...” His voice was soft but hoarse with anger and shame. “I humbly beg your pardon for the shameful names I called you. I hope you will forgive me.”

  “Stand up, Michael,” she said quietly. “I am sorry too for this was my fault. I should not have betrothed myself to you knowing that I loved someone else. It was cruel of me. Will you forgive me?”

  “I will, but I must ask one more thing Allana.” Michael sighed and looked into her brown eyes, his own hard and merciless. “I know that we are now at peace with each other – or at least, not at war - but it will be easier for us both if we never see each other again.”