The Highlander Who Loved Me

by Adrienne Basso

  “There has to be some!” another yelled, his hands clenched into fists.

  “I’ll share what I’ve got, but I warn ye, it isn’t much.” The brigand pulled out the leather purse, knowing he would have to give them something if he wanted to avoid a rebellion. He had failed as a leader and his security of being the one to make contact with their mysterious employer was gone. The possibility of having his throat slit loomed frighteningly large.

  He had already taken the precaution of hiding two coins in his boot. They rubbed painfully against the ball of his foot, creating a blister, but it was a pain well worth enduring if he could walk away from this with some money and his life.

  “Liam gets nothing,” one of the men decided, a sly look on his face.

  Liam sputtered in outrage, his face clouding with anger. “I risked my neck, the same as any man. I deserve my share.”

  He turned to the brigand for support. The brigand looked away. Two against ten were not odds he’d consider; not when he was one of the two. Nay, he’d let the rabble have the money and hoped they would be content with it.

  “We’ve tarried long enough,” the brigand warned. “Best get on our horses and be on our way.”

  “We’ll scatter,” one of the men decided. “’Tis safer fer all of us.”

  The brigand held back as the others mounted, keeping a close eye on Liam, worried the lad would do something foolish. Though he knew he was defeated, Liam lifted his head high and watched the others ride away.

  “I’ll confess I’m not sorry to see the last of them,” Liam said. “Now we can make plans to collect and keep the final payment fer ourselves.”

  The brigand gave Liam a long, hard look, then walked to his horse. “Ye’re speaking nonsense, lad. Two men cannae possibly accomplish what twelve couldn’t do.”

  “Ye’re wrong. Having too many men was our downfall. But two clever fellows can accomplish the deed.” Liam puffed out his chest. “Will ye join me?”

  The question took the brigand aback. “If ye think it was hard before, it will be impossible now. We’ve tipped our hand. The McKennas will double, even triple the guard. Ye’ll never even get close to her.”

  Liam shook his head. “McKenna Castle is a vast holding. People come and go through those open gates all day. I saw it with my own eyes. They cannae all be known by the guard. We can disguise ourselves as merchants. Or beggars. Once we’ve slipped inside, we’ll find the lady and steal her away.”

  The brigand smiled. “Och, and she’ll come easily, willingly?”

  “We’ll gag her. Tie her hands and feet.”

  “And ye dinnae think anyone in the entire castle will notice us carrying her about like a sack of grain?”

  Liam’s eyes darkened. “Then we’ll kill her. Ye said we could earn double if she died.”

  “Ye’ll have to get very close to kill her. Ye haven’t got the stomach, or the stones, fer it, lad.”

  “I’ll do it! I swear.”

  The brigand wiped his hand over his face and shook his head. He had enough of treachery. And failure. “Have ye ever killed a defenseless woman?”

  Liam’s body stiffened. “I’ve killed before and not only with my sword, but with a dirk. Close enough to see their eyes, close enough to smell their fear.”

  “A woman?”

  “Nay.”

  The brigand gave the lad a compassionate look. “’Tis far more difficult than ye think. And it’s not just the deed, it’s living with the deed after it’s done. Go home, Liam, and find some other line of work.”

  “I have no home. My da was a traitor to our clan. He was caught and killed. My mother and I were lucky to escape with our lives.”

  The brigand felt an unexpected jolt of sympathy for the lad’s plight. “I’ll say again, this path is madness, but I’ve no right to stop ye.”

  Liam threw back his shoulders in a defiant gesture. “Well, that’s more coin fer me. How do I collect my payment once the deed is done?”

  The brigand’s mouth quirked. “Ye’ll need to leave a signal, then wait until she arrives.”

  Liam’s eyes widened. “She?”

  “Aye, but dinnae be fooled and let yer guard down. Ye’ll find no mercy or compassion in her,” the brigand warned.

  He gave Liam the final details, then swung up on his horse. Liam remained on his feet, challenging him with an unflinching gaze. The brigand tried to ignore it, but as he led his mount away, a sharp prickle of unease prevailed.

  The lad had made his choice, but the brigand hoped he would change his mind. The McKenna were not men to trifle with and he had a strong feeling that all would not bode well for young Liam if he challenged them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The church bells rang out, letting everyone know a wedding was about to take place. The sound brought on a flutter of butterflies in Davina’s stomach. Taking a deep breath, she somehow managed to sit quietly as Lady Aileen placed a gold circlet studded with gems on her head to hold her blue silk veil in place.

  “Stand up so we can make certain the headpiece is secured,” Lady Aileen commanded.

  Davina obeyed, walking the entire length of the chamber. When she was done, James’s sister, Katherine, approached and tied a matching gold link girdle around her waist. “Ye look a vision of beauty,” she whispered. “James will be speechless when he sees ye.”

  Davina smiled inwardly. She wanted to look beautiful for James, wanted his jaw to drop when he caught his first glimpse of her.

  The bells continued ringing. Davina anxiously looked at Lady Aileen. “We need to hurry.”

  “In a minute,” Aileen replied, fussing with the hem of Davina’s gown. “The ceremony cannae start without the bride.”

  “Wait, milady. I have a length of Armstrong plaid,” Colleen said, holding out the folded tartan. “I thought ye’d like to wear our clan colors one last time.”

  Davina gave the widow a watery smile. “It’s perfect. Can ye help me find a brooch to pin it?”

  “I’ve just the thing fer ye,” Katherine said. “’Tis a gift from James. He wanted me to surprise ye with it in hopes that ye’d wear it fer the ceremony.”

  Katherine handed Davina a delicate gold brooch. The center design was a thistle flower, surrounded by intricate leaves and interlaced vines. Davina immediately saw it was a unique, expensive piece of jewelry, the finest she had ever been gifted. Yet far more important than its value was the fact that James had chosen it for her. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the lovely piece as she tried to secure the tartan over one shoulder.

  “Nervous?” Aileen asked sympathetically, as she took the broach and pinned it into place.

  “Excited,” Davina clarified. “Though I confess to feeling sad that none of my kin are here to celebrate this joyful occasion with me.”

  “Travel always takes much longer in this winter weather. My son couldn’t wait another day to claim ye as his bride. Are ye very disappointed?”

  “A bit. Though truthfully, I couldn’t wait either,” Davina admitted with a blush.

  “Then let’s get ye married.” Aileen smiled and held out her hand. Davina took it, glad for the support. Aileen led her through the great hall and into the courtyard.

  The moment she stepped into the bailey, all eyes turned toward her. Aileen let go of her hand. Davina took a deep breath and walked through the parting crowd. In keeping with Highland tradition, the ceremony would be held outside the chapel. This way all could bear witness to their union and it seemed as though every clan member was in attendance.

  Thanks to his height, she could see the top of James’s head as he stood on the chapel’s steps, his back to the open doorway. She straightened her shoulders and held her head proudly as she approached her groom.

  Their eyes locked. James stared at her with the love she had dreamed of seeing for the last five years. A soft winter wind blew around her face, but Davina didn’t feel the cold. Her heart was beating rapidly, filled with more joy than she could ever imagine.


  James looked magnificent in his wedding finery, his muscles taut under his snug, richly embroidered tunic, the heavy sword gleaming at his side. Bathed in the fading rays of the evening sun, he looked like a Highland warrior of old. A length of McKenna plaid with its bold colors was pinned over his left shoulder. As she drew near, Davina could see the brooch he wore to hold the tartan in place matched hers.

  Unable to wait until she reached him, James stepped forward to greet her. “Ye look like an angel come down from the heavens,” he whispered as he took her hand.

  “I’ve already agreed to marry ye,” she answered. “There’s no need fer such flowery compliments.”

  Her teasing response had the desired effect of calming her nerves—and those of her groom.

  “Do ye take these vows of yer own free will?” the priest asked.

  “Aye!”

  The crowd laughed at James’s eager response. Davina smiled, too, and answered with equal enthusiasm, though not as loudly as her groom.

  “Is there any man here who can give just reason why this marriage should not proceed?” the priest asked.

  Breath held, Davina watched the priest carefully as the clergyman scanned the crowd gathered around them. She could hear a low rustling behind her and envisioned the crowd turning and glancing at each other, making certain no one would respond.

  Tilting her chin, Davina accidentally caught Malcolm’s eye. For a fleeting moment there was an expression of sad longing shadowing his face, but then it vanished like a puff of smoke. He nodded his head regally, mouthing the words be happy to her.

  Davina’s mouth twisted in relief. Malcolm’s endorsement was yet another piece of joy adding to this special day. The reconciliation between the brothers was fragile and new. It was her fervent wish that James and his brother would grow closer. ’Twas a relief knowing that her marriage to James would not impede that possibility.

  Davina swallowed, inexplicably near tears.

  Vows exchanged, they walked into the chapel and knelt to receive the priest’s blessing. Before he gave it, Father Dominic spoke solemnly of the duties between wife and husband. Davina tried to absorb every word, for above all she wanted to be a good wife to James. But her groom was determined to take advantage of her nearness, his fingertips swirling in a sensual pattern over her wrist and palm.

  Concentration fled as her flesh prickled with awareness. Her blood raced as an intoxicating heat rolled through her. She felt James squirming beside her and guessed that his desire was also rising. Father Dominic kept talking—lecturing, really—either unaware or untroubled by their actions.

  The good priest paused to take a deep breath and James seized the moment. “Are ye finished?” he asked.

  “Aye, Sir James,’tis done,” the priest answered as he smiled. “Ye’re married.”

  That was all it took. Without warning, James leapt to his feet, pulling Davina with him. His arms encircled her waist and he lifted her against his chest. She barely had time to catch her breath before his lips descended.

  It was a seductive caress, a promise of the pleasures they would soon share. He let the kiss linger, far longer than was appropriate, until the shouts and hoots and whistles from the crowd grew longer and louder.

  “Mark my words, we’ll be blessed with another grandchild before the year is out,” the McKenna declared.

  The crowd cheered. James finally lifted his head. Davina met his bemused gaze and smiled. Her knees felt weak, she was breathless and disheveled. And happier than words could express.

  She glanced down at the gold band on her finger, the solid weight a reminder of her vows. Her new life had begun and she could hardly wait to see what happened.

  The great hall was near to bursting when all the clan members joined in to partake of the wedding feast. The tables were laden with delicious food and the wine, ale, and whiskey flowed freely.

  Toast after toast were made to the good health, happiness, and fertility of the bride and groom. Davina lost count of the number of times goblets were raised, but she smiled with genuine delight at each one.

  “I’m sorry the weather prevented us from hosting a tournament or a melee in celebration of yer marriage,” the McKenna said, as he patted Davina’s hand affectionately. “There’s nothing more thrilling than watching a fine group of Highland warriors, some mounted, some on foot, in mock combat.”

  Truthfully, Davina couldn’t imagine anything less romantic than seeing men stage a battle, but she was not about to argue with the laird. Only the richest and most prestigious clans held elaborate, expensive weddings, with days of feasting, hunting, and tournaments. That the McKenna even suggested such a thing was a sure sign of the regard he held for her and James, and that warmed Davina’s heart.

  “’Tis a fine wedding celebration, fit fer a princess,” she said sincerely. “I could ask fer nothing more. I am honored by all that has been done to make me welcome and am very proud to be part of the clan. Thank ye.” Davina leaned forward and kissed the McKenna’s cheek.

  Lileas came skipping over and climbed into Davina’s lap. “Grandpa says that ye’re a McKenna now.”

  Davina smiled and cuddled the little girl. “Aye, I’ve wed yer uncle James, so that means I’m yer aunt Davina.”

  Lileas sighed deeply. “I dinnae want an aunt. I wanted ye to marry Papa and be my new mama.”

  Davina hid her smile. Naturally, Lileas would still be harping on her quest to gain a mother. The child possessed the McKenna trait of stubborn determination tenfold.

  “Someday yer Papa will find a lady to love and he’ll marry her and then she’ll be yer new mama,” Davina answered.

  Clearly displeased with the reply, Lileas wrinkled her nose. She appeared on the verge of a tantrum, but thankfully didn’t throw one. Instead, she gave Davina a tight hug, slipped off her lap, and muttered something about going to find her papa so he could start looking for her new mama right now.

  The musicians began playing a lively tune. Trestle tables were shoved away from the center of the hall to make room for the dancing. A group of men and women joined hands to form a large circle.

  “Time to start the dancing,” Aileen said, pulling Davina and James away from their seats.

  The bride and groom were plunged into the center of the circle. Trying not to stumble, Davina held tightly to James’s hands and struggled to match his footwork, but her feet could not move as nimbly as her husband’s. Giggling, she felt herself starting to lose her balance, but just as she began to fall, James caught her. She came to a breathless halt against him, her palms braced on his chest.

  “Kiss her, Sir James!” someone shouted.

  Davina eagerly lifted her chin and swayed into her husband, her lips brushing against his. She felt his hand slip to her nape and he deepened the contact, sweeping his tongue across her lips. She opened her mouth, sinking into him with a pleasurable sigh.

  The sound of hoots and whistles, mixed with stamping feet, thundered up to the rafters. James gave her one final kiss, then pulled away. His gaze smoldered with seduction and she felt herself blushing. Others noticed her hot color and that brought on even more cheering.

  Throughout it all the musicians continued to play, the merry sound of the pipes, fiddle strings, and drum ringing out a lively tune. After a few more shouts, the dancing resumed.

  The hour was well past midnight before the clan was ready to let the newlyweds retire to the bridal chamber. Of all the feasting that had been done these past few days, the nuptial celebration was by far the most exuberant and no one wanted to see it come to an end.

  As was the custom, Davina left first, escorted to the bridal chamber by a group of giggling, whispering women. Since none of her female relations was in attendance, Lady Aileen directed Davina’s disrobing, hurrying the process in deference to the cold and her daughter-in-law’s modesty.

  Lacking fresh flowers at this time of year, Lady Aileen and the women of the castle had used holiday greenery to make the room sparkle a
nd shine. Swags of freshly cut pine were hung on the walls, its fragrant scent mingling with the holiday aromas of cinnamon and spice. Ribbons of red and gold were wrapped around the pine bowers.

  Bouquets of holly and ivy were placed on the table and a large cluster of mistletoe shaped into a ball hung from the bedpost. Candles lit the chamber, the flames dancing merrily.

  A naked Davina managed to slip between the sheets just as the men arrived, pounding on the closed bedchamber door, demanding entrance. At Aileen’s signal, Colleen opened the door and the men stumbled inside. Shouting and laughing, they carried an unsmiling, half-dressed James upon their shoulders.

  James allowed his shirt and brais to be removed by his rowdy companions, who delighted in yelling bawdy advice on the best way to please the bride. James endured the bedding ceremony with as much good will as he could muster, but he refused to be placed in the bed beside her and Davina could tell by the tight set of his jaw that her new husband was not pleased.

  Fortunately, his mother was also attuned to her son’s feelings, and she managed to hustle the drunken revelers out of the bedchamber before James pulled his sword on them. The moment they left, James swiftly bolted the door, then turned and pressed his ear against it.

  “Are they gone?” Davina asked.

  “At last. I paid the musicians a goodly amount to ensure they wouldn’t participate in the shivaree. Thank God it’s too cold fer the McKenna knights to stand below our window and beat their swords on their shields or else we would never find any peace this night.”

  “Aye, it seems as though it willnae take much to get this crowd riled,” she agreed.

  James walked to a small table and poured two goblets of wine. “Drink?”

  Davina shook her head. She’d already had far more than usual. Any more and she might pass out and that would completely ruin what had so far been a perfect day.

  The chamber fell silent as James finished his wine, then lifted the goblet he had filled for her and drank.

  Davina aimed a teasing grin at her husband. “Highland lore says a marriage will be happy if the bride is merry. Is the same not true fer the groom?”