If he sometimes tossed and turned at night, dreaming of a pair of gray eyes, then that didn’t mean he’d never be happy.
And as the months passed and his heart still hadn’t healed, surely that didn’t mean anything at all.
He would wed Siona and he would support his stepmother and his brother. He would lead his Clan, he would help his people, and he would fend off attacks where he needed to. Tormod was Laird now.
His heart didn’t matter anymore, and so he sealed it away, locked tight from his chest forever.
Chapter 2
The Flooded Selkie
The winter of Anabella’s twenty-second year was not as cold as she may have liked. If she expressed this thought, it usually merely generated laughter, but she had her reasons. Anabella had always loved the winter; the quiet noise of the snow, the comforting crackle of logs on the fireplace.
It’s one of the most romantic times of year, even if it is the hardest.
Anabella was nothing if she was not a romantic. Though she loved to swim, more than the average young woman, she excitedly waited every year for the rivers and lochs to freeze over from cold. Often, she had skated on the ice on Loch Tremaidh with her friends, dreaming of the day she’d do that with the man she loved.
If she ever found him. If there even was a man out there for her.
She was only two-and-twenty, but it was beginning to feel like she’d never find love. She’d received several proposals in the last few years, but none of them had given her the feeling the tales talked of, the feeling her mother described with her father.
There was the other problem, too. Though she was young, she was not so young anymore that she could keep putting this off. As a noble, it was past time she was wed.
But the fact was, none of them had made Anabella’s heart tremble.
Well, that is nae quite true. One of them did, but nae in the way I wanted.
When Tormod Dunaidh had proposed to her the previous year, it was all her fears come true. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive–of course, she did, she’d be a fool not to. Both Tormod and his wirier cousin were known across the realm for their handsome dark looks, as had been their fathers before them.
But Tormod…he had tried to court her, she knew that, and perhaps she was a little to blame for encouraging it. What else was she to do, though? The truth was, he was an extraordinarily tall and muscled man, wild-looking with his hair and beard, and he frightened her a little.
It wasn’t that she thought him a bad man. Something about him and his rough manner and vast bulk intimidated her. She could not bring herself to get to know him without being worried he might snap. When he proposed, his father had just died. How was she to know it would not turn him as wild as he looked?
So she had turned down the suit, just as she had turned down all the others, and now she spent another winter alone.
It was raining heavily. There had been no snow at all this year, except on the highest peaks, and it made Anabella feel rather miserable. The loch had not frozen over, and the rivers ran unchecked, their banks swelling by the day as the water fell unfrozen from the sky day by day.
She was not unduly worried. The Galloway lands were in a valley, dipping between the higher grounds that homed their neighbors. Their men had been keeping a close eye on the loch and its associated rivers, and on the rainfall, but there was no fear of flooding as far as they could tell.
At least that would be some form of excitement. Instead, I shall spend another winter, single and grumpy, and now damp.
Anabella sighed, putting down her hairbrush and heading to slip between the covers in her bed. She may love snow, but she hated this kind of rain. The light showers of summer were lovely–welcome, even when they brought coolness with them–but the heavy winter rain that never seemed to stop bothered her. It took the snow from her and clouded the sky so that she could not even see the moon.
Her grandmother had always called her a selkie before she’d died four years previously. Closing her eyes and trying to fall asleep to the sound of rain drumming against the walls, she could hear Granny even now.
“Me wee selkie lass, ye are nae complete without the water and the moon. I cannae wait to meet the laddie who’s finally able to steal yer coat and bind ye to his heart.”
It was a romantic image and one that Anabella had remembered every time she was courted since. Because that was what she wanted, even though the faerie tales often ended tragically. She wanted a man who loved her, adored her, and stole her whole heart away.
But instead, here she lay, ready to sleep alone once more. Perhaps she would always be such.
When she slept, she dreamed that she was one of a pod of seals dancing in the waves. A towering, shadowy figure waited on the beach, under the light of the full moon, waiting to embrace her. Excited, she began to swim toward him, knowing that if she reached the shore, she would have found her love at last.
Mo chidre. Me heart. Wait for me.
Anabella shot awake as the door to her room clattered open, and her mother’s shrill, scared voice echoed in her ears.
“Ana, hurry! Grab only what ye can carry; we need to get out of here now!” Ceit was shrieking as she shook Anabella by the shoulders. “Damn it all, lass, wake up!”
Frightened, Anabella opened her eyes. Her mother’s face was drawn, pale, and tear-streaked, and inches from her own as Ceit tried to drag Anabella out of bed. “Maither? What…what’s happenin’–”
“Nae time. Gather whatever is precious to ye and a change of clothes,” Ceit instructed.
Anabella pushed herself out of bed, trying to fight through the blur of sleep that was clouding her thoughts. The rain pounded more heavily than ever against the walls, drowning out almost all sounds except her mother right next to her ear. “Maither…what–”
“The banks have burst, mo ghràdh. The Nether District of town is gone. The Upper District is battlin’ back the water. It willnae be long until the Castle is swept under and all,” Ceit told her urgently. “Gather yer things and let’s go.”
The banks? Surely she meant the riverbanks and not the loch. Undoubtedly, the lovely loch where Anabella swam and skated could not have betrayed her like this. There must be a mistake. Someone must have misunderstood. She ran to the window, which saw far out over the town.
Unlike many Lairds, Galloway’s Castle was dead center in the middle of the Upper District of the town of Bailedún. It had been purposely built that way, with the town forming around it, by Anabella’s great-great-something grandfather. As the town had expanded beyond the circling walls, it had split into two districts–the Upper District, where the more affluent folk made their homes–and the Nether, by the lochside.
I’ve always loved the Nether District most. It’s where the best shops and the friendliest of people are.
Anabella spent a lot of time there, especially when she was younger, socializing with the poorer girls who always had the most fun games. Nowadays, she spent a lot of time at the provisioner’s shop, where there was always a fresh apple or some sweet left out from the latest soldier’s pack and waiting for her.
And best of all, she could see the Nether District from her room. She could wake in the morning and see the lower town rising, so much earlier than the Upper District or even most of the Castle. She loved watching them go about their mornings, serving as a real inspiration to her for her future.
I’ll never be the ruler of Galloway, but when I’m wed, I want to provide for me people just as we provide for this town and the rest of the Clan.
But now, when she looked out, the rain was coming down in thicker sheets than she’d ever seen–so thick that she could not see anything, much less the distant Nether District.
“Gone?” she repeated faintly. “What…what do ye mean that it’s gone? How can a whole district of town be gone? What about the people? The property–”
“Much of it is washed away, but we dinnae ken the extent of the damage yet,” Ceit told her.
Her mother was now rushing about Anabella’s room, grabbing things at seemingly random and stuffing them into a bag. “Some of the villagers made it up to the Upper Lands, but many–” she trailed off.
The girls. The provisioner. Her friends.
“They’re dead?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“We dinnae ken yet,” Ceit replied, grabbing her by the arm and physically pulling her toward the door. “ALL we ken is that we need to get us and as many people as possible out of here. Naewhere in Bailedún is gonnae be livable after tonight, nae even here.”
“What about the people?” Anabella asked desperately, tripping as she followed her mother down the winding stairway to where the servants and her brother and father waited downstairs. “What about our people, Maither?”
Pain shot across Ceit’s face as they reached the others, and she fell into Ringean’s waiting arms. Calum hurried forward and grabbed his sister’s hand, half giving reassurance and half seeking comfort, suddenly looking much younger than his five-and-ten years.
Anabella clutched his hand in comfort but turned to her father to demand answers. “Where are our people, Faither? Where are the people who didnae make it?”
“Some of the townsmen are volunteerin’ to stay behind and try to salvage who or what we can from the wreckage of the Nether District,” Ringean told her in a quiet, distraught voice. “Soon enough, the Upper District will be overwhelmed and all, though we’re nae expectin’ it to be so bad as it is down below,”
“Where will they go?” Calum asked fretfully.
Anabella squeezed her brother’s hand again. The boy had always been gentle, sweeter than most other lads his age. He had a soft heart, and he wore it on his sleeve. Anabella loved him more than anyone else alive, even her parents, who she adored.
The Laird and his wife exchanged looks before Ceit said gently, “We’re expectin’ the upper floors of this Castle to be all right. It will nae be livable as its meant to function. Still, if they barricade themselves in the upper floor and are willin’ to get a bit cold and damp, then the rescuers can probably survive.”
“And where will we go?” Anabella asked faintly.
“To whoever can take us, with as many of the women and children as we can,” Ceit told her. “They’re waitin’ outside the Castle gates as we speak.”
Then she did something very unlike her. She wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and kissed him, openly and passionately. Even more strangely, Ringean held her tightly and kissed her back equally as fiercely, right there in front of all the servants.
What is this? Are they sayin’…farewell?
It wasn’t that her parents didn’t love each other–they did, rather a lot–but that they never showed such public displays of affection. To them, the appearance of proprietary was critical. Anabella had inherited it, too; it was one of the reasons she had turned down some of the rougher men who had asked for her hand.
“Are ye nae comin’ with us, Faither?” Calum asked uncertainly.
He shook his head. “I am Laird of Galloway. I owe it to the people of Bailedún and the people of the entire Clan to help when I can. I’m sendin’ some of the survivors off with our soldiers to the Clan outskirts to see if any of the rest of our people can take them in. Ye’ll take fifty with ye to try to rehome, mostly bairns with their Maithers.”
Calum shook his head almost violently. “Nay. If ye’re to stay, then so am I. I’ll help ye.”
Ringean crouched so that he and Calum were face to face, placing his hands firmly on the boy’s shoulders. “Nay. Ye will nae. I ken ye’re almost a man grown, but I have an important task for ye. I need ye to be the big lad I ken ye are and take care of the ladies for me. Ye’ll be the Laird one day. Can ye do it?”
Calum swallowed, and Anabella could feel his hand shaking where she still held it, but he nodded. “Aye, Faither,” he said solemnly. “Aye. I’ll do it. And when ye get to wherever we’re goin’, ye’ll be right proud of me.”
“I’m always proud of ye. Of both of ye,” Ringean said, looking at Anabella as well.
Anabella’s eyes were itchy with tears. “Ye dinnae need to stay here, Faither. Ye dinnae–”
“I do, and ye ken it,” Ringean said firmly. He leaned into her now and whispered in her ear. “Take care of yer wee brother.”
She nodded, trying not to cry, and together she, her family, and the castle servants turned to leave her father behind to the rising water.
As they braced against the wind and the impossibly heavy rain, fifty or so townspeople behind them, Anabella couldn’t help but grimly wonder.
Will I ever see me Faither alive again?
She could not be sure, of course, but she also couldn’t shake a terribly familiar feeling as they rode away. It was a dark feeling that she’d only felt once before…the same thing she’d felt when she left the kirkyard after her grandmother’s funeral.
To Anabella, it felt like Bailedún was now filled with graves.
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Thank you!
Also by Lydia Kendall
Thank you for reading Highlander's Trials of Fire!
I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? It would mean the world to me. Reviews are very important and allow me to keep writing the books that you love to read!
Some other best sellers of mine:
Conquered by a Beastly Highlander
A Hellion for the Highlander
Passionate Tales of Forbidden Highlanders
Captured by a Highland Pirate
Betrayed by his Highland Touch
The Rebirth of the Highlander
***
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Thank you for helping me do what I love!
Lydia Kendall
About the Author
Lydia Kendall has always been passionate about medieval romance. Having traveled to the Scottish Highlands several times as a young girl, she has always been drawn to their unparalleled beauty and history. A history that inspired stories of love and passion, mixed with tradition in the most appealing way for every hopeless romantic - much like herself.
Born in Denver, Colorado, Lydia Kendall has a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing, and over the last decade she has been writing non-stop for several clients - that is until she decided to start publishing her own work. When she isn’t writing, Lydia loves spending her time on the beautiful outdoors with her loving husband and baby daughter.
Follow Lydia on this sensational journey of hot highlanders, bonny lassies and fierce passion...and find sheer pleasure in the magnificent world of the Scottish countryside - one that will sweep you off your feet and keep you begging for more!
Highlander's Trials of Fire: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 29
