The Highlander Who Loved Me

by Adrienne Basso

  “Nay! I’d have to tell him the whole truth before we took our vows.”

  “Even though he’d then have the right to walk away from ye?”

  “Aye.” Davina nodded vigorously.

  “Well, given yer circumstances, if he walked away, then he wouldn’t be worth keeping, would he?” Lady Aileen concluded with a triumphant grin.

  The logic of the argument left Davina speechless for a moment. If only it were so simple. “There are other reasons,” she ventured lamely.

  Lady Aileen sent another pitying look in Davina’s direction. “Apparently.”

  “I cannae speak of them.”

  “Then I’ll badger ye no longer to share yer secrets.”

  “Thank ye, Lady Aileen,” Davina said softly.

  “I thought ye were going call me Aileen,” the older woman scolded in a teasing voice.

  “Aileen.” Davina corrected herself with another blush. “I’m so relieved that ye understand and support my position.”

  “I do, but ye must trust me, Davina. The McKenna has his mind set on Malcolm and James courting ye. He’ll be neigh on impossible to live with if he doesn’t get his way.” Aileen’s eyes came alive with devilish mischief. “Therefore, ye must allow my sons the chance to earn yer affections and try to win yer hand. ’Tis the only way to appease the McKenna.”

  Davina’s shoulders tensed. “But I willnae—”

  “Aye, aye, ye willnae marry,” Aileen interrupted, waving her hand expressively. “I understand. Ye willnae be forced, no matter how loud the McKenna bellows. Despite outward appearances, at his core, my husband is a reasonable man. If I counsel caution in this matter, he will listen.”

  “But will ye? Counsel caution?”

  Aileen’s eyes snapped with sincerity. “I make ye that solemn vow, here and now in this most holy chapel.”

  Aileen’s promise sent Davina’s mind in a whirl. She would have preferred to have the matter firmly settled and avoid the discomfort of being courted, but according to Aileen that was impossible.

  “I cannae help but feel that I am willfully deceiving yer husband and Malcolm and that makes me most uncomfortable,” Davina admitted.

  “There is no deception in allowing yerself to be courted, even if yer mind is set against marriage,” Aileen insisted. “And who knows, ye might very well change it. People wed fer many reasons: fer alliances, fer property, fer companionship, and a lucky few marry fer love. But in the end, a marriage is what the pair make of it.”

  “What about ye?” Davina asked.

  Aileen smiled. “I thought my Brian was handsome, fierce, and far too full of himself. But I saw deep affection in his eyes whenever he gazed at me and I knew that if he ever fell in love with me, he’d be passionate, faithful, and loyal. ’Twas enough fer me to take the gamble.”

  “Were ye in love with him?”

  “He made my pulse quicken whenever he was near and his kisses curled my toes. But I dinnae start to truly love him until he left to fight with the Bruce, a few months after we wed. When he rode through those gates, he took my heart with him.

  “Some couples start out in love and lose it, others find love through the years together and come to cherish it. For some love is a great passion, for others ’tis comfort and security. Sometimes it matters, sometimes not. There are those who feel betrayed by love and others who are relieved to be spared the complications. Ye have yer reasons fer refusing to take a husband, but I urge ye to put them aside and ask yerself what ye would want from a marriage.”

  “To be left alone,” Davina answered ruefully.

  Aileen burst out laughing. “Well, ye certainly are stubborn enough to be a wife. I ask only that ye keep yer mind and heart open to the idea of becoming my daughter-in-law.”

  Bells of warning sounded in Davina’s head. She believed Aileen would keep her vow and not force a wedding. But it was also clear that Aileen held out hope that Davina would change her mind and indeed marry a McKenna.

  If she was going to follow Aileen’s advice, Davina realized she needed to be cautious.

  “Would ye care to join me in a game of chess, Davina?”

  Davina looked up from the embroidery in her lap. Malcolm’s smile flashed with so much glimmering charm, she blinked. “I have little skill at the game. I fear ye would find me a most unsatisfactory opponent.”

  “Yer modesty does ye credit.” He smiled again, pulled a small table between them, and began setting up the board and pieces. “I’m sure ye will lead me on a merry chase.”

  “Sir?”

  “Around the board,” he clarified.

  Davina nodded, her mouth dry. She had spent the morning in the woman’s solar, but in the afternoon had chosen to work on her sewing beside the warmth of one of the large fireplaces in the great hall. It had been quiet and peaceful when she arrived; she assumed it would remain that way until preparations for the evening meal began.

  Apparently she was mistaken.

  Her stomach quailed at the idea of Malcolm paying court to her, but she had promised Aileen and was not about to go back on her word. Reluctantly, she put down her sewing and turned her attention to the board. The pieces were beautifully carved, with fine detail. Under different circumstances, Davina realized she would have enjoyed the opportunity to play with them.

  They started the game in silence. Davina had not lied when she said she was not very experienced at the game, but Malcolm was quick to offer advice. He would hum, quirk his brow, or clear his throat each time she began a move. Rather than annoying, Davina found the silent advice helpful, for it caused her to rethink each move carefully before she made it.

  “I’d forgotten how much this game is like warfare,” she commented, as Malcolm captured her bishop. “As a knight, ye have the advantage.”

  “’Tis also a game of strategy and wits, which gives ye more than an equal chance at victory.”

  Och, he is good. Flattering her looks was too obvious a ploy, but commenting on her intelligence certainly got her attention.

  They reached for her queen at the same time and his fingertips brushed across her hand. A teasing smile curved his lips, causing a pair of dimples to appear in his cheeks. Davina swiftly lowered her gaze. I willnae be charmed by him!

  “Lady Davina, ye are still here!” Lileas cried out excitedly from across the great hall, then she broke into a run.

  A long-haired hound trotted beside her, so large it towered over the child. For a moment Davina feared the animal would knock her to the ground, but despite its formidable size, it seemed inherently gentle, allowing Lileas to lead the way.

  “This is Prince,” Lileas explained. “He’s my dog.”

  Hearing his name, Prince immediately began wagging his tail, swishing it across the stone floor. He had thick fur of varying shades of white and gray and expressive brown eyes.

  “He is a very fine animal, indeed,” Davina remarked. “Hello, Prince.”

  She closed her fist and held out her hand, appreciating the dog’s friendly manner. It sniffed her knuckles, then lowered its head to sniff at her skirt. Apparently deciding that he liked what he smelled, Prince promptly sat beside her, leaned heavily against her leg, and placed his head in her lap.

  Lileas burst into giggles. “He likes ye!”

  “He’s usually slow to take to strangers, but he’s made his opinion clear. I always said that Prince was a highly intelligent dog,” Malcolm added, humor in his tone.

  “I’m sure he just smells the remains of the noon meal on my fingers,” Davina insisted, though she was secretly pleased at the dog’s affection. ’Twas a welcome relief knowing the animal wanted nothing more from her than a friendly pet.

  Davina obligingly rubbed the dog behind his ears. He snuggled closer and began making a rumbling noise deep in his belly, reminding her of a purring cat.

  “Do ye have a dog?” Lileas asked.

  “Nay, not a special fellow like Prince. At Armstrong Castle, the hunting dogs are kept in the kennels, though
when the weather is bitterly cold they are allowed in the great hall. But they must stay in the corner and not bother anyone.”

  Lileas scrunched her nose. “That’s mean. I would cry and cry if Prince couldn’t sleep in my bed.”

  “Goodness, that great beastie sleeps with ye? Ye must have a very big bed.” Davina laughed.

  “Grandma says Prince smells, so Papa gives him a bath. But he doesn’t like it and tries to run away.”

  Davina smiled, imagining a damp Malcolm chasing after the energetic dog. “Who doesn’t like the bath—Prince or Papa?”

  “Both!” Malcolm interjected. “My mother nearly fainted the first time she found Prince in Lileas’s bed, but Lileas believes the dog protects her, so I persuaded my mother to allow it.”

  “Ah, there appears to be much that Lileas is allowed,” Davina remarked.

  “Aye, she’s a spoiled little hellion and it’s all my fault,” Malcolm replied cheerfully.

  “Prince is just like Guinefort. He’s a saint dog.” Lileas threw her arms around Prince’s middle and hugged him tightly.

  Davina wrinkled her brow. “I’ve heard the tale of Guinefort. He was the noble dog who guarded his master’s child, killing a snake that tried to bite the babe as it lay sleeping in its cradle.”

  “Aye,” Malcolm said. “Though when the nurse who had left the child alone returned, all she saw was the dog’s bloodied mouth and head. She feared the dog had killed the child and screamed long and loud. The child’s mother heard the screams, rushed in, saw the bloody dog, thought the same, and she too began screaming.

  “When the master came, he also believed the dog had killed the child, so he drew his sword and slayed Guinefort. ’Twas only after he approached the cradle and found the child unharmed did he realize his tragic mistake. And when he discovered the snake torn to pieces by the dog’s bites, he knew that Guinefort had in fact saved the babe.”

  “Guinefort went right to heaven, didn’t he, Papa,” Lileas stated confidently.

  “He did, sweetheart.”

  “I’m glad.” Lileas hugged the dog again.

  Davina gave Prince a final pet on the head, then put her hand in her lap. The dog immediately began nudging her fingers with his cold, wet nose, demanding more attention. Davina smiled and complied, scratching him roughly behind the ears.

  “If ye keep that up much longer, I fear that beast will never leave ye alone,” Malcolm warned.

  “Prince is the one male in this castle whose attention I dinnae mind,” Davina answered truthfully.

  Malcolm cleared his throat. Davina’s shoulders tightened as she realized how rude her comment had been, but she did not retract it. Better that Malcolm realized sooner rather than later that she did not solicit his attention.

  “Dinnae be so quick to turn me away,” he said quietly. “Give it a chance, Davina. Perhaps in time yer heart will soften toward me.”

  His words were heartfelt, making her reply harder. But say it she must. “I’m enjoying myself this afternoon, ’tis true, and fer that I thank ye. But I must be honest and tell ye that I willnae marry ye. I willnae marry any man, despite yer father’s determination.”

  The resigned look she hoped to see on Malcolm’s face was not forthcoming. Instead, he flashed a charming, confident grin. “Then I shall be equally honest. I’ve overcome many obstacles thrown in my path. Winning yer hand is a challenge that I shall surely thrive upon.”

  “What game are ye playing?” Lileas asked, pushing herself into her father’s lap. “Can I have a turn?”

  “Aye, sweetheart. Ye can be on my side.” His voice dropped to a whisper, but was loud enough to hear. “Together we will win against Lady Davina.”

  He was so utterly charming, Davina found it difficult to be annoyed. Her gaze shifted and she realized she was being watched. Expecting to see Aileen’s approving smile, she lifted her head and instead caught James’s hardened stare.

  The moment their eyes met, he frowned and turned away. Davina forced her attention back to the game, surprised at how much his obvious indifference stung.

  Despite his desire not to, James watched and brooded. Seeing Davina so cozy and relaxed playing chess with Malcolm was doing ridiculous things to James’s mood. The expression on his brother’s face was easy to read—he was being charming and seductive and ’twas obvious that Davina was enjoying the attention. The prospect of her marrying his brother suddenly loomed as a true possibility and it troubled James more than he wanted to admit.

  Davina cast a shy smile at Malcolm. James clenched his fists and drew a fortifying breath. It took considerable effort to restrain himself from approaching his brother, pulling him to his feet, and punching him square in the jaw.

  Though James struggled to avoid it, Davina had been reluctantly in his thoughts ever since his arrival. Thanks to his father’s mad schemes, he was now subjected to the ungainly sight of his brother paying court to her. That she might actually succumb to Malcolm’s charms was too repugnant to be considered.

  If returning to the Crusades were not an impossibility, James knew he would be on the next boat. Life as a Crusader gave him a purpose, a reason to get up each morning. It also kept his mind too occupied to think overmuch on the past, to dwell on his failures.

  He had matured, learned impressive fighting skills and techniques. A man with his abilities could earn a decent living in tournaments, but he would have to wait until spring if that was what he chose. In the meantime, he would simply have to grit his teeth and hope that Davina returned to her home soon after the holiday.

  “Has she changed a great deal?” his mother asked.

  James flinched. So great was his concentration on Davina, that he had not even heard his mother approach. He gingerly shifted on his feet, but refused to look directly at Aileen, knowing her perceptive gaze missed little.

  “I assume ye are referring to Lady Davina?” he drawled.

  “Who else? Years ago ye spent many months with the Armstrongs. Surely ye saw much of her.”

  His vision blurred at the edges as he recalled the young lass he had loved so completely. Resentment shot through him over the happiness that had been stolen from them, but seeing no other choice, he buried it.

  “Laird Armstrong’s daughter, Joan, was the great beauty of the family. A practiced flirt, who basked in male attention. All eyes were usually drawn to her. I dinnae remember much about Davina.”

  James could feel the heat of embarrassment burn on the back of his neck. He was a poor liar and felt even more guilt for holding back the truth from his mother. She had loved and supported him all his life; this was hardly the way to repay her.

  Aileen gave him a hard look. “Were ye there when Davina was attacked?”

  His breath seized and he turned his head sharply. “What do ye know about that day?”

  “Nothing. I only know that it happened and it’s part of the reason she doesn’t want to marry.”

  He swallowed convulsively. He had dreaded this moment, but knew it could no longer be avoided. “’Twas my fault. I should have saved her.”

  He heard his mother’s soft gasp. “Was that the reason ye left Scotland?”

  “Aye.”

  Aileen sniffled. “I always knew there had to be something that made ye go. Why did ye not come to us first?”

  “The shame was too great.”

  “Ye could never shame us, James.” He watched the glimmer of tears in his mother’s eyes slowly turn to love. The sight humbled him. She gave him a long, assessing look, then asked, “And now?”

  “I’m learning to live with it,” he confessed, hoping that would at last settle the matter.

  “If ye dinnae wish to speak of it, I’ll not pry further, though ’tis clear there is more to tell. Ye try to hide it, but I’ve seen the way ye look at Davina.”

  His embarrassment deepened. “Ye are being fanciful, Mother.”

  “Am I? Those who dinnae know ye well would easily miss it, but there are times that ye gaze at her as
if she is yer last hope of happiness. Is she, James?”

  James sucked in a deep breath. He looked down and saw the resolution marking the lines of his mother’s face. “I might have believed that at one time,” he admitted. “But no longer.”

  Her face softened, her eyes filled with sympathy. “What happened between the two of ye?”

  “More than can be repaired,” he answered flatly, the memory of disappointment nibbling at his heart.

  A speculative light glowed in his mother’s eyes. “Then build a bridge across the abyss.”

  “’Tis too late.”

  Aileen loosed a scoffing breath. “Nay. Until the vows are spoken, it’s not too late. Do ye wish her to wed Malcolm?”

  “She willnae.”

  “How can ye be so certain? Yer brother has a way with women and he seems intent on charming her.”

  James felt his nostrils flare. “She willnae marry him,” he repeated, with far more confidence than he felt.

  “Well, if she does, I want her to have no lingering feelings fer ye.”

  “I’ll not court her, Mother.” Amazingly, his voice sounded almost calm.

  Aileen sighed. “Ye’re as stubborn as yer father. I’ll not demand something that is too painful fer ye to give. But I’ll not let ye hide from her either. We are starting to put up the Christmas greenery and as always need more than what was gathered. I want ye to go pick some and bring Davina with ye.”

  James tamped down the objection that rose to his lips. He was confident that Davina would refuse Malcolm’s offer of marriage—if it was even given—but it wouldn’t hurt to be certain.

  “If it pleases ye, then I will do as ye bid.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “If ye don’t stop yer caterwauling this instant, I’ll leave ye here to find yer own way back to the castle,” James said forcefully, sending a withering glance at his willful niece.

  “James!” Davina cried.

  “Ye cannae tell me that her shrill whining doesn’t get on yer last nerve?”