by Eliza Knight
The lass could do far more for Clan MacDuff than Senara. Colina could bring peace and wealth. Senara brought only a sword, a loyal, loving horse, and an unborn babe.
Gavin would have to truly be in love to choose Senara over the wealthy laird’s daughter.
And, selfishly, Senara hoped with all of her battered heart he was.
*
Dalmunzie was as impressive as always.
Not only was the massive structure immaculate and the clan well-dressed and plentiful through its halls, everything glittered with wealth. Cloth of gold and silver winked from the costly tapestries and fine clothing.
Laird MacKintosh sat in a large carved chair, his back straight and proud. Gray seasoned his long, black hair and beard. “I dinna expect to see ye again so soon.”
Gavin smirked. “I dinna expect to be back again so soon. It would appear my aunt is up to her tricks once more.”
Laird MacKintosh narrowed his pale blue eyes. “Ye dinna send her to speak with me.” His gaze slid to his daughter, who sat at his right. Her blonde hair had been left loose around her face and her head bowed forward. It was not enough to hide the red rim around her eyes, nor the pink tint to her nose. No matter how she’d tried to mask it, she’d obviously been crying.
The unspoken statement lingered in the air.
Gavin didn’t want to marry his daughter.
A slap in the face to the laird and an affront to his daughter.
“I dinna send her,” Gavin confirmed. “She knew how long I’d had my eye set on Colina.” He nodded toward her, and she craned her head farther forward. “I suppose Edana thought she could do what I couldna. And it would appear she did. What did she offer ye to make ye change yer mind?”
Laird MacKintosh leaned forward in his seat. The wood issued forth a long, deep groan beneath the man’s impressive weight. “A body.”
Gavin inclined his head.
“Do ye know why our clans have been fighting for years?” MacKintosh asked.
Of course Gavin knew. “We killed one of the healers ye sent to help during the plague when it consumed Castle of Park.”
MacKintosh nodded. “Aye, a monk named Balthasar. He was a MacKintosh, a lad my da played with when he was young. He became a monk at a priory no’ far from here.” He lifted his hands, as if to show his inability to understand such a profession. “Balthasar put himself at great risk to aid yer people. But he dinna return and, over time, we found out what happened. He’d been seduced by a woman and slain for his crimes.”
MacKintosh’s hands curled around the chair and his frown deepened. “My da was destroyed by this news and disgusted with the MacDuffs. We dinna know who seduced Balthasar, but we do know it was yer grandfather who saw him dead. We were refused his corpse, stating he’d been a plague victim. We knew better.”
Gavin set his jaw. “I know the woman ye speak of.” He smirked. “My verra aunt, Edana.”
MacKintosh’s jaw twitched under his great beard. “She’s some nerve. She promised me Balthasar’s body, so he could be laid to rest, as my da made me vow to do.”
Das and their damn dying wishes. Gavin vowed if he ever had a son to never leave him with a promise that would haunt him.
“I’ll bring ye the body,” Gavin said with a nod. “But I canna wed yer daughter.”
Colina’s head snapped up and she stared at him with wide blue eyes. MacKintosh’s brow furrowed. “Ye dinna want my daughter?”
“I did, laird, for some time,” Gavin said. “When ye declined my offer, I found another. The banns will have been fully announced by the time I return.”
Colina grasped her father’s forearm and stared imploringly up at him. He cast her a soft look, one which only a daughter could elicit from a man as strong as MacKintosh. A smile showed under his beard. “My daughter is in love with another as well. And has my permission to marry the man.”
Colina gave a soft gasp. At her father’s nod, she rose from her seat and raced from the room, her face alight with her joy.
MacKintosh followed her with his eyes until she was gone. He turned his attention back to Gavin, the tenderness and soft smile gone. “Bring me Balthasar and we will have peace.”
Gavin strode forward and clasped his arm with MacKintosh’s. “Ye have my word.”
“I look forward to finally securing a truce with ye.” MacKintosh got to his feet. “Ye’re welcome to stay as long as ye like.”
“I thank ye for the offer,” Gavin said. “But I’ve a lass to wed when I return home.”
MacKintosh gave a deep rumble of a chuckle. “Then go home, lad. A woman is no’ one to keep waiting.”
Gavin was all too eager to comply and left within the hour to return back to Castle of Park.
Back to Senara.
Chapter Ten
Senara was in her small room on the top floor when she first heard the sound.
Her heart began to slam in her chest before she even understood what met her ears.
The clop of horse hooves.
Gavin was home.
She turned abruptly and threw open the shutters to the window. The chill of early spring air rushed against her cheeks, a coolness she welcomed against the sudden heat spreading over her face. Still, she tucked her cloak around her body, if nothing else to keep her child within protected.
Perhaps it was a silly notion, but she enjoyed the maternal endearment.
Her gaze searched through the surrounding trees, but she caught neither sight of Gavin nor Lindir, his strong black destrier.
Please be alone.
Of course, him being alone did not mean a betrothal with Colina MacKintosh had not been established.
The sound grew louder and her heart raced so quickly, her lips tingled.
Please be alone.
There. In flashes between the tangles of tree branches.
Lindir with Gavin atop him.
And he was alone.
Senara’s knees went weak beneath the force of her relief. Hopefully, this would mean he chose her.
“He is alone.” The voice echoing Senara’s observation sent a fresh wave of tension tightening along the back of her neck.
She spun around to see Edana standing in the doorway, her shoulders slumped and her gray and black hair hanging limp around her face. The wrinkles she’d once fought so hard to smooth now crinkled into an expression of puckered rage.
“Ye should have left.” Her breathing came ragged.
A warning scraped down Senara’s spine.
Her hands curled protectively around her lower stomach, the life there so new it had barely swollen her abdomen with evidence of its fragile existence. “I could never leave.” She swallowed down the metallic bite of fear on her tongue. “I love him.”
“Then ye’ll die a fool.” Edana was still stalking toward her, a confident glare in her eye. Her hand fisted in the green velvet of her skirt, where the fabric was hopelessly crushed beyond ruin at her obvious anxiety.
Senara moved her hand for her dagger but remembered she’d taken it off only moments ago to change into the evening dress she wore. The sword her father had given her lay tucked carefully into the straw of the mattress. Out of reach.
“Lady Edana, what are ye doing?” Asking the question would simply buy Senara time, but time might be enough to save her. Already, Lindir’s hooves were clattering noisily on the courtyard below.
A wide smile lit Edana’s eyes and drew jagged shadows over her face so she resembled little more than a grinning skull. “I’m stopping a wedding.”
She flew forward, her hands clawed to rend more than air.
Senara couldn’t move away from where she stood between the two small beds. There would be nothing for it but to defend herself.
She waited until Edana was within striking distance, then bent over and threw her weight against Edana’s waist. Senara shot up quickly, intending to throw the other woman to one of the beds, but Edana twisted at the last moment and flew behind her.
Senara�
�s body jerked backward, hard. Toward the window.
She spun around to find Edana dangling from the window, her hands clenched around Senara’s cloak. A soft cracking sounded far below where the vase of dried heather fell to the courtyard stones and scattered into a million pieces.
The weight of the old woman pulled hard against Senara, threatening to drag her over the edge as well. Far, far below Edana’s swinging legs were the sprawling expanse of the cobblestoned courtyard and the ruined vase and flowers. Four stories below.
Certain death to any who fell.
A gust of ice-cold wind flew at Senara’s back from the hallway door behind her and blew her cloak around her in great billowing folds. Edana screamed and tried fruitlessly to pull herself up.
Chills rose over Senara’s flesh in a reaction she was far too familiar with.
Balthasar.
And then he appeared beside her. It wasn’t the slow fade of his previous visits or the cast of his glowing eyes showing with more precision than did the rest of him. Nay, he appeared as if he were a man of true flesh and blood.
Edana’s eyes widened and she gave a sharp intake of breath.
Senara’s heart leapt and a soft, unintelligible cry emerged from her throat.
Balthasar’s eyes glowed with more rage, more vengeance than she’d ever seen. Prickles of fear raced over her skin, scraping over her like the cold edge of a blade.
He reached for her neck and something clicked at her throat.
The weight of Edana pulling at Senara’s cloak went slack and the old woman fell back into nothing with the cloak still clutched in her grasp. The clasp, which had been unfastened, flapped uselessly with the speed of her fall.
She screamed Balthasar’s name the entire way down, the cry so shrill, so haunting, Senara knew she would never stop hearing it for the rest of her life.
Balthasar looked directly into Senara’s eyes. The glow was gone from his stare and replaced by something kind and soft.
A sense of peace washed over her, bathing her in a calm which slowed her heart and brought a gentle warmth to her soul. He bowed his head in reverence and disappeared from view.
“Senara?”
She spun around to see Gavin racing through the doorway toward her. Her heart didn’t slam with uncertainty, not with the fierce note of desperation gleaming in his eyes.
“Are ye all right?” Concern narrowed his tender gaze.
She nodded, unable to speak for the tightness in her throat.
He stared toward the window, the color of his face somewhat diminished. “Was that him?”
“Aye,” Senara whispered. “That was Balthasar, but I dinna think we’ll be seeing him again.” The certainty of her words filled her with the same tangible emotion as did the peace he’d given her soul. “He has been avenged.”
*
Gavin clutched Senara in his arms as if he might lose her, for surely he almost had.
He’d arrived at Castle of Park just as Edana had dangled through the window. When he’d seen Senara leaning forward under the burden of his aunt, his heart had lodged itself in his throat.
In all the years he’d taken the stairs at Castle of Park, never had he cleared all four floors with such haste.
Shouts of alarm rose up from below the window where the servants were rushing to Edana’s aid. He hadn’t seen her fall, yet knew there would be no saving her. He had lived up to his father’s wish and protected her as best he could. She was the cause of his absence and, in the end, she was the cause of her own demise.
And in death, he would still see her protected, with a proper burial in consecrated ground.
The image of the monk with dark hair and gray eyes came into Gavin’s mind, as did the way he faded from view as if dissolving into the very air around them.
“He saved ye,” Gavin said. Relief tickled his chest where tension had gripped him only seconds before.
He’d almost lost her.
His beautiful Senara, who enriched his life with her confident joy. He reveled in the warmth of her body against his, the sweet sunshine scent of her hair, grateful to be touching her once more.
“Balthasar saved us both.” Senara answered with such unusual hesitation, he pulled back slightly to stare down at her, to ensure she had not been injured.
Her hands, he noticed, were folded over her stomach.
Alarm burned through him. “Ye’re hurt.”
She regarded him with a concerned expression furrowing her brow. “I’m with child.”
Gavin stared like a daft man at the woman who had already brought such wonder to his life. But a child – an heir. The one thing he needed to ensure the king would never have his land or his people.
An image flashed in his mind of Senara cradling a child, his child, in her arms.
His family.
His throat went tight with a hardness he could not seem to swallow away.
Senara bit her lip. “I—I know why ye left to Dalmunzie Castle. I know about…” She straightened her back and shifted slightly away from him. “I know about Colina MacKintosh. I still want this baby though and will raise him or her on my own. I willna stay—”
“I went to Dalmunzie to tell MacKintosh I couldna wed his daughter.” Gavin drew her slight body into his arms once more. His eyes felt warmer than usual. He closed them and pressed his forehead to the top of her head. “Edana orchestrated it to get me to choose Colina over ye.”
“And ye chose me.” Senara’s words caught. “Ye chose us.”
Not caring if she saw the emotion on his face, he turned her toward him and caught her bonny face in his hands. “I will always choose ye, Senara. I told Anice to tell ye I’d return back to ye as quickly as possible. Did ye no’ get the message?”
She shook her head and tears spilled down her cheeks.
Gavin wiped them away with a swipe of his thumb. “I love ye more than my verra life, Senara.”
Her tears left her eyes bright and a beautiful smile lit her face. “And I love ye more than my verra life, Gavin MacDuff.”
“Have the last banns been announced?” he asked.
“Aye, despite Edana’s protests, the priest insisted on doing them.” Senara glanced toward the window with a measure of sorrow.
Gavin pulled her face toward him once more. “Then I want to wed ye as soon as possible, the way I should have done within a month of meeting ye. Would ye like that?”
“Aye, verra much.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth, warm and sweet with a wonderful familiarity. “And soon we will be a whole family.”
He was doubtless grinning like an idiot and didn’t care a fig. His hand covered hers at her abdomen. Their child lay beneath their shared caress, beneath the layers of cloth and just inside the cradle of her loving womb.
Their child.
Aye, they would be a whole family soon.
She’d given him everything he’d ever hoped for, and he was glad he hadn’t allowed himself to be blind to its beckon. He had her to thank for such insight, of course.
For she’d been right in what she said when they first met; no coin or station was better than the beauty of true love.
And he was grateful to have learned so valuable a lesson from so bonny a teacher.
Epilogue
4 years later
The clash of swords rang out, followed by a peal of giggles.
Senara looked up from the small, perfect bundle where she cradled her newborn son. “Be careful now.”
Gavin turned toward her and gave a sincere nod.
She laughed. “I wasna talking to ye.”
Their daughter, Jenny, held Senara’s sword between both her small hands and let it swing wildly toward Gavin. He gave a rich, warm laugh and ducked the assault before plucking her up by her waist. She shrieked in delight and wriggled against her captor.
“Aye, listen to yer ma, lass.” He chuckled and took the sword from her before she could attempt another blow.
Jenny ran toward Senara, blonde curls
bouncing around her bonny face. Her eyes were the same as Gavin’s, rich brown and deep with emotion.
Senara couldn’t have imagined a more perfect babe than their Jenny. That is, not until Geordie had been born only days before and she realized two such perfect children could truly exist.
“May I ride Norbert, Ma?” Jenny lifted her brows up and down in silent encouragement for a yes.
Senara laughed. “Ye’re a wee silly thing, Jenny.”
Jenny gave her a wide grin and wisely said nothing.
“Aye,” Senara conceded. “But make sure ye bring him an apple first and let Renny help ye feed him.”
Senara hadn’t thought it possible for anyone to love Norbert more than she – until Jenny, that is. The lass had an affinity toward the old horse that had taken just as quickly to her. They’d been fast friends ever since.
“How’s our littlest one?” Gavin slid an arm over Senara’s shoulder, and her head immediately leaned into the familiar crook of his neck. The scent of spring clung to him, all fresh air and new grass.
Senara adjusted the small bundle in her arms. Geordie blinked his blue eyes open and squinted up with a furrowed brow.
“He’s been a tired lad,” she replied. In perfect sync with what she’d said, his mouth parted into a wide yawn, revealing toothless gums and a small tongue stained with milk.
Senara glanced up at Gavin, and their eyes met with all the love and joy they shared between them. “He’s a handsome one, just like his da.”
“We do make bonny bairns.” He stroked his hand over Jenny’s silky head.
The lass grinned up at him as if he were the sun, the same as Senara had always stared at her own da so long ago.
“Ye rest here with Geordie. I’ll take Jenny to see Norbert.” Gavin caught Senara’s face in his hand. “Ye’re so beautiful, wife. I’m a verra lucky man.” He gave her a soft kiss, a gentle caress of his mouth to hers. “I love ye.”
She smiled against his lips. “And I love ye, my husband.” He winked at her before taking their daughter’s hand and walking toward the stable.
Senara lifted Geordie so he lay against her chest and watched her husband and daughter stroll hand-in-hand. The sweet scent of new baby under Senara’s nose beckoned her to lay kisses on the top of his downy head.
