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Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles)

Page 19

by To Dream of a Highlander


  In silence, they turned, still hand in hand and continued their journey.

  “I am sorry for deceiving ye,” Catriona said when the castle was out of sight.

  “Dinnae be.”

  “I am not sure I would be so forgiving.”

  “I know why ye lied. Women bear the burden of much in this world and ye have had to carry yer father’s and Gillean’s ambition. I dinnae blame ye.”

  “Does Finn?”

  Lorna grinned. “Nay. Indeed, he is probably cursing himself for not seeing the truth and letting ye confide in him.”

  Catriona nodded vaguely. Did he really not loathe her for lying? She had caused so many problems for them and all they had done was show her kindness.

  “Dinnae blame yerself, Catriona.” Lorna pulled her to a stop and forced her to face her. The fair haired woman eyed her seriously. “This is Gillean’s doing, not yers. If he had not done this to ye, he would have done it to yer sister or some other woman. But dinnae fear, he shall pay for this one day. For every drop of blood spilled, he shall pay.” Lorna stiffened and Catriona held her breath.

  Horse hooves.

  They huddled together. Out in the open, there was nowhere to hide. Catriona cursed her lack of a weapon but even a sword would do them no good against a rider. A flash of golden hair and wide shoulders atop a brown horse came over the brow of the hill.

  “Finn!” Warmth spread through her and she released Lorna.

  Another horse trotted behind him, the reins held firmly in Finn’s hands and Catriona put a hand to her mouth, glancing at Lorna. She put her arm back around Lorna and felt the strength leave her. Sorrow tore at her gut and she only imagined what Lorna was feeling.

  Finn trotted up to them, his brow grooved with grief.

  “Logan?” Lorna asked.

  He shook his head. “Forgive me. He was cut down. I couldnae get to him.”

  A sob bubbled out of Lorna and Catriona flattened her head against her chest. Lorna did not cry but tremors wracked her body.

  “We must go,” Finn said quietly. “Many of yer men escaped, sister, but Gillean prevailed. We must get to the safety of Glencolum.”

  Lorna lifted her head and sniffed. “Aye.”

  “Shall ye ride with me?” he asked.

  “Nay, I should like to ride alone if ye dinnae mind.”

  Finn offered Catriona a hand and helped her up behind him. She settled against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. He squeezed her arm and relief mingled with regret.

  “Come, let us go home.”

  Catriona wondered what he meant by that. Did he realise that, for her, home was wherever Finn was?

  ***

  Moonlight lit the small chamber of Glencolum keep, seeping through the shutters and dancing over the heavy drapes and simple furnishings. Catriona shuddered beneath the bedding yet she was not cold. She swiped a frustrated hand through her hair and sat. Yet again, she was confined to the walls of a castle and her future drifted in front of her, governed by others. The tightening in her chest forced her out of bed and to the window.

  Pressing open the shutters, she leaned out and drew in the clean night air, eyes fluttering closed. Her body ached—bruises marred it, but nothing compared to the agony in her chest. Her home was lost to her. Her family dead. As much as her father and sister had not been kind people, she had always longed for their love. Now she would never have it. She opened her eyes and surveyed the rugged scenery around Glencolum. The tips of the mountains glistened under the half moon and great rocks sat at awkward angles between them. More dramatic than the landscape of Kilcree, she felt an affinity with it. A need to run amongst the valleys and boulders and lose herself.

  But circumstances trapped her. She’d yet to speak with Lorna but the lady of the keep, Alana, had assured her she had a home for as long as she needed. Surely it would not be long until the king found her a husband and married her off. All she had left now was a sizeable dowry—incentive enough for many suitors.

  Catriona trembled. Enough to drive a man to madness. Gillean wouldn’t be the only man to think he could command a woman with force.

  And no other man could claim her heart. It throbbed as a reminder of her love for Finn.

  She hadn’t seen him since she’d been ushered into the chambers, exhausted and filthy, by a fussing Alana while the laird, Morgann, threatened all kinds of vengeance. Now bathed and in a clean chemise, restlessness consumed her.

  A breath ensnared in her throat when her gaze settled on a shadowy figure. He turned from his spot on a low wall and faced her. Had she called his name? He froze and though unable to see his eyes, he surely saw her. Frissons like lightning bolts ran between them. She gripped the shutter edge. Should she go to him? She longed to fling her arms around those slumped shoulders and tell him of her love but she’d gone to him before. She could not keep throwing herself at his feet.

  Finn rose, still facing her window then turned abruptly. Catriona sagged, the thump in her ears her only company. The impending sense of loneliness crept over her but she held her shoulders stiff. She had seen off worse dangers and survived. With the help of a good man, she had almost overcome her demons and her encounter with Laird Gillean proved how strong she could be.

  A light tap at her door made her hold her breath. Her muscles stiffened, refusing to let her turn.

  “Enter,” she croaked out.

  The squeak of hinges. Footsteps. Whispers of fabric and long strides.

  Hands came upon her arms and spun her around. She released the breath and wilted. With savage speed, his mouth met hers, hard and claiming. Catriona gasped when his hands found her waist and pulled her tight against him.

  Too soon, his mouth left hers and he stared down at her, expression grim, eyes solemn. She twined her fingers into his shirt and toyed with his pin, tracing the circular knot pattern.

  “How is Lorna?” she asked when silence loomed.

  “She grieves.”

  She nodded. She never understood what sat between Lorna and Logan but clearly it had been more than just friendship. Pain lodged in her throat. She had been so close to losing Finn too.

  “He was a good friend to ye too.”

  “Aye, he was. He shall be greatly missed. He taught me much.” Finn released a light laugh. “Ach, even in death the man is teaching me.” Hands on her arms, he manoeuvred her over to the bed and bade her to sit.

  While she pondered what he meant, he lit a candle and placed himself beside the bed. The straw mattress dipped under his weight and he grasped her hand. In the candlelight the true seriousness of his expression made her stomach churn.

  “I have been but a fool. I have denied myself happiness and ye too. To hurt myself is forgivable, but to hurt ye, isnae.”

  “Finn....”

  He pressed a finger to her lips and smiled when she couldn’t resist kissing the finger.

  “Ye have shown so much strength and I have been naught but a coward. Ye offered me love and friendship....”

  “I lied to ye.” she interjected.

  “Well we willnae mention that bit.” He chuckled. “Logan and Lorna missed out on happiness,” he continued, “but Logan never gave up. He fought until the end for my sister’s love and I will do the same. I love ye, my Catie.”

  “I am Catriona,” she corrected.

  “Nay, ye shall always be my Catie. A letter makes no difference. And dinnae distract me. Can ye no’ see I am trying to tell ye something?”

  Catriona giggled and reached up to trace her fingers over his serious brow. “Ye dinnae need to tell me anything.”

  “I do. I vow never to hide things from ye again. Ye are beautiful and kind and patient and, in truth, ye probably deserve better than me but I am a selfish man and I need ye, wee lass. I need ye very badly. I have been too scared to love anyone since Alice but, Lord help me, I love ye.” His lips twisted. “And ye know a highlander willnae admit to being scared easily.”

  Catriona put a finger to his lips
as he had done to her. “Shhh, my highland warrior. Ye need not confess as much for I know. I love ye too. I could find no better man.”

  Finn reached for her finger and used it to tug her into him. She ended up flattened upon him as he fell back against the bed. Catriona settled over him, warmth budding through her chest. He loved her. While she might have lost so much, she had gained more than she’d ever had before. Love.

  “Ye will marry me then, lass?”

  “Aye.”

  “Thank the Lord. I shall have ye taunting me in my dreams no longer.”

  She leaned over him, her hair skimming his face. “Nay, I shall taunt ye in life instead.”

  Finn grinned—that heart-shattering grin she’d come to expect from him—but true delight lit his eyes. “And I shall enjoy every moment.”

  Catriona rocked against him. “Shall we begin enjoying now?”

  “Aye.” He grasped her face and pulled her down to him. “Aye, I think we shall.”

  ***

  Tèile grinned at the sight and fluttered out of the window. The air felt clean, renewed. Fate was back in alignment. She paused and eyed the embracing couple. Yet something was still amiss. She could not have anticipated the battle at Kilcree or Logan’s death but it must have been fate or she’d have known otherwise.

  She flew around the square castle and paused to peer in the window. The fair haired woman sat on her bed, chin on her knees. Tèile had a decision to make, she suspected. She could return home, the glorious victor. Not one, but two matches successfully made. Or she could stay and find out why things had gone so wrong for Lorna.

  A hand touched her arm and she glanced up.

  “Come, Tèile,” the purple faery said, “’tis time to return home. Ye have done well.”

  Tèile took a last look at Lorna and scowled before following the faery. Something was not right and she could not revel in her achievements. But a word with the sidhe council was needed first. For once, they would take her seriously.

  Aye, she was now a great matchmaker. She smiled. All would talk of her accomplishments. And if anyone could bring Lorna a happy ending, it was she, the Green Faery.

  Epilogue

  Finn admired his wife as she pottered about the cottage, preparing their morning meal. Her simple forest green gown reminded him of when they’d first met. Noble blooded she might be but she fit in perfectly in his humble home. Odd how he’d not realised how empty his cottage was before.

  “What are ye grinning at, Finn?” she asked as she placed a trencher on the small wooden table in front of him and poured a cup of ale. “I know well ye are hiding some thought behind that smile.”

  “Aye, but these are all good thoughts, Catie.” He wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled her onto his lap.

  Catriona giggled and swatted his arm when he tickled his lips over her neck. “Ye are due at the castle. Morgann shall wonder why ye are late.”

  “Ach, he willnae wonder. Many a morn has he been late. I am taken up with my beautiful wife, something he should well understand.” She twisted and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him greater access to the column of her throat. “Ye know ye were dreaming last night. I heard ye,” he murmured against her skin.

  “Aye, I was.”

  Finn drew back and pressed a thumb to her chin so he could view her. Not a hint of fear sat behind those green eyes anymore. She eyed him boldly. “No nightmares?”

  “Nay, none at all.” Her lips curved upwards. “Only very pleasant dreams.”

  He caught the glint in her eyes and chuckled. “Indeed? And what sort of pleasant things do ye dream of?”

  “Oh ye know.” She traced a pattern over his chest and twisted her fingers into his shirt, holding him close. “My husband. In my bed. Between…” she leaned forward and tugged his lobe with her teeth making him hiss, “my thighs.”

  Finn groaned as heat rolled through him. “And ye complain of me being late to the keep? How am I meant to leave ye when ye say things like that?”

  “Dinnae leave me then. I shallnae complain.”

  Standing, he took her with him, keeping her legs wrapped around his hips. He stumbled through the door to their bedroom while she pressed a hard kiss to his mouth. Laying her on the bed, he spread out her raven hair against the blue blanket and lifted to admire her. Finn flicked a finger over her nose and across the tilt of her lips. His heart leapt. To think he had nearly missed out on all of this. His life had been so cold and barren before. With Catriona in his arms he felt truly alive again. For this, it was worth the risk.

  “Finn?” she whispered, toying with the braid in his hair.

  “Aye, love?”

  “I love ye.”

  “I know. I love ye too. To the stars and back.”

  She stared at his braid then flicked her gaze back to him. Uncertainty dashed across her face. “I dinnae want ye to worry for me.”

  “Why should I need to worry for ye?” He pressed away slightly and scowled. “Catriona, is something amiss?”

  “Nay, not at all.” Catriona put her hands around his neck and tugged him down. “But ye must promise not to fear, because, ye see…” She bit her lip and released it, making him want to pull it between his own teeth. “I am with child.”

  Finn blinked and shifted his gaze to hers. Had he misheard her? “What did ye say?”

  “I am with child,” she repeated.

  He gulped and lifted away so he could eye her belly. “In truth?”

  “Aye. In truth. My courses have not come. But, pray, come back here for ye willnae hurt me.”

  He shook his head and grinned while warmth spread through him. He took his wife in his arms and splayed a hand across her stomach. “I know, for ye are surely the strongest woman I have ever met.”

  Catriona had proved her strength time and again. He no longer feared the future. Whatever it held for them, these moments would always stay with him. Finn captured her mouth, treasuring the way she softened into him and vowed he would make many more moments like this.

  The End

  Author’s Note

  Catriona’s experiences of the siege of her home are based around the siege of Rothesay castle in 1230. In around 1200, William the Lion seized the Firth of Clyde from the Norse—this included the Isle of Bute. At the time, the western isles of Scotland were under Norwegian rule. A large stone castle was built on the island by Walter Steward but in 1230 the Norse besieged the castle for three days. It is said they cut through the walls with ease as they used shields to protect themselves. Walter Steward was killed by an arrow and the castle was taken. However, they could not hold it so the Norse took a ransom of three hundred marks and looted the castle.

  This wasn’t the end for Bute and the western isles. In 1263 the Norse returned as the battle for the islands continued but the invasion was unsuccessful.

  Read Lorna’s story in To Avenge Her Highland Warrior – coming 2014

  Find Samantha on Facebook

  Other titles

  To Steal a Highlander’s Heart (Book 1 of the Highland Fae Chronicles)

  Borderland Bride

  Borderland Beauty

  Borderland Betrayal

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

 

 

 
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