Highlander’s Forbidden Desire: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance

by Kenna Kendrick

  “Is that nae the mark of one who is best suited to it?” Elaine asked, remembering that her father had said something similar of his own father’s death.

  “Perhaps, though I cannae imagine a man less desirous of it than I,” he replied.

  “To desire power is to be corrupted by it. To take it grudgingly though with duty in mind surely speaks of yer character,” Elaine said.

  “I would gladly lay it aside. But then I know what would happen. There is nay one else to take up the mantle, except those ill-suited to it,” Finlay replied.

  “Ye mean yer uncle?” she asked, and Finlay nodded.

  “Aye, my uncle would gladly see himself as kingmaker here. That is why he has come; his motives are clear enough to see,” Finlay replied.

  “And what dae ye intend to dae to stop him?” Elaine asked as they came in sight of the channel running out into the loch.

  “I shall be Laird as I see right. Nay man shall control me,” Finlay replied, though Elaine feared that already his uncle’s influence was being felt, his brave words disguising the worry which lay within him.

  “There, that is where yer father fell,” she said, pointing out into the waters which looked calm and peaceful on that bright and sunny day.

  Finlay sighed, taking up a stone and tossing it out into the waters where it fell with a splash, sending ripples out around it.

  “A needless death,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Needless? He saved those children’s lives,” Elaine replied.

  “I didnae mean it like that, I daenae know what I mean,” Finlay said, taking up another stone and tossing it after the first.

  “Yer father’s death was a tragedy, but he died as a hero of this clan. Ye must hold onto that,” Elaine said.

  “And I shall dae, but this tragedy was one that could so easily have been avoided. My father was brave, but at times he was foolish too. He rushed ahead when others more prudent would have stayed back,” Finlay replied, sitting down on a rock at the edge of the loch and sighing.

  “But nothin’ that ye can dae will bring him back now,” Elaine replied, and Finlay nodded.

  “Aye, I know that well enough, lass,” Finlay said.

  “Then tis’ ye who must now honor yer father’s legacy and see to it that this clan’s proud and noble tradition is continued,” Elaine said, sitting opposite him, as the water lapped at the lochside.

  “But I daenae know if I can dae this. My father has left such a legacy behind, one I can hardly fulfill,” Finlay said, and he put his head in his hands and let out an anguished cry.

  “A legacy which is yers to make of as ye choose, Finlay. Ye are nae yer father, and nay one expects ye to be,” Elaine said, taken aback by the force of his words.

  He was silent for a moment, and Elaine watched him, trying to discern his thoughts. To lose his father in such a tragic manner and to fall headlong into his burdensome duty was a trial such as no person should face. She hoped he would find his strength, though she feared what would become of him under his uncle’s influence. Was Finlay strong enough to resist him?

  “My uncle does,” he replied, shaking his head.

  “Yer uncle expects ye to be his puppet, Finlay. That much is certain,” Elaine said, scowling and shaking her head.

  “I am nay one’s puppet,” Finlay replied.

  The two of them sat together by the loch for much of the rest of the day, the shadows lengthening and the swallows flying low over the water. It was a peaceful scene, but one which held much tragedy in its memory. Here, a great man had fallen, and the question now remained, would a great man arise or find himself sunk beneath the waves raging all around? Only time would tell, but Elaine feared for the future. Her own and that of Finlay, a good man but surely not yet ready for all, which now lay ahead.

  Chapter Seven

  The long hot days of summer passed by, and Finlay MacCallum was growing restless. It had been a month since his father had died, buried with all the ceremony and ritual of the clan, but still, nothing seemed clearer in his mind. He still felt like an apprentice, knowing little of his duty or burden. He was Laird, but the tasks and responsibilities still seemed beyond him. He was floundering, and if it had not been for Elaine, he would surely have felt entirely alone in his task.

  She had been a good and faithful friend to him these past weeks, remaining at the castle despite his telling her that she was free to return to her father at Carrick. Finlay had no wish for Elaine to remain at Kilchurn if she did not wish to; her duty now entirely fulfilled. But she was a loyal and faithful woman, one he was coming to rely on more and more.

  But not only had Finlay found a friend in Elaine, but he was also finding something more. As the weeks had gone by and the two of them had spent more time together, Finlay was beginning to wonder about the feelings now stirring in his heart. It seemed wrong to feel in such a way, for his father was not yet cold in the grave. But the more he thought of Elaine, the more he knew that he could not ignore the thoughts in his mind.

  Finlay had never sought the companionship of a woman. There were few suitable at Kilchurn, and he had never made advances towards them, nor had he ever involved himself in the politics of matches between the clans. His father had once offered to find him a woman, but Finlay had found little delight in those that had been paraded before him. He had had love affairs and courted women of the clan, but none had ever captured his attention and caused him to want more. The arrival of Elaine had changed that.

  She was different from other women, a strong, brave, and kindly woman. He had seen that bravery in her when first he had met her on the moorlands, chased by the bandits, and he had seen her resolve and determination in duty these weeks past. How easy it would have been for her to return to Carrick and forget about him and the rest of the clan. But Elaine had stayed, determined to fulfill her duty come what may. Finlay could only admire her for that, an admiration which was mixed with an ever-deepening sense of affection for the beautiful woman who had appeared in their midst.

  “The crofters on the high moorlands need reinin’ in. They owe their tithes, nephew,” Finlay’s uncle said, as they sat at breakfast in the great hall that morning.

  “Aye, uncle, in due time. There are other tasks which need seein’ to first,” Finlay said, as he helped himself to a bowl of porridge.

  “A Laird is one who anticipates what tasks require his attention, Finlay. Ye have been neglectful of yer tasks these weeks past. Ye have barely left the castle. There is work to dae, and ye have nae done it,” his uncle said, tutting and shaking his head.

  “I have had much to see to, uncle,” Finlay replied, annoyed at the way his uncle was questioning him.

  “Ye have seen to nothin’ and nay one, Finlay. Tis’ time ye did some work instead of thinkin’ yerself to be above it. And what of the MacDonalds? Is there to be nay peace between our clan and theirs? When will ye ride north to make the peace offered to yer father?” his uncle said, as Elaine and Carys entered the great hall for breakfast.

  “In due time, uncle,” Finlay said, and his uncle banged his fist down hard on the table.

  “At the right time, Finlay. What would yer father say if he were here? He would tell ye to make haste and see to the matter in hand. The MacDonalds will nae wait forever. Ye cannae expect peace without effort,” he said, shaking his head.

  “The MacDonalds have hardly made steps to sue for peace themselves in these past weeks,” Elaine said, as she came to sit opposite Finlay, smiling at him as she did so.

  “And what does a woman know about peace?” Finlay’s uncle said, scowling at Elaine.

  “She knows it well enough, uncle,” Finlay replied, angered at hearing his uncle talk to Elaine in such a way.

  “Then heed my words and ride north, lad. Take clansmen with ye and go to the castle of the MacDonalds, see to it that peace is made before tis’ too late,” his uncle said, rising from the table and marching out of the great hall, followed by several of his own men.

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nbsp; “Does he ever cease to tell ye what to dae?” Elaine asked as she and Carys helped themselves to porridge.

  “He tells me every day what to dae,” Finlay replied, sighing and shaking his head.

  His uncle’s influence was becoming wearisome, but he could see no end in sight to it. There was little that Finlay could do in the face of his uncle’s presence. He had every right to be at Kilchurn and to exert his influence. Finlay felt powerless to prevent him from doing so, and every day he seemed more intent on taking control.

  “And how long will ye allow him to dae so?” Elaine asked, fixing Finlay with a searching look.

  Finlay was silent. He did not like to be questioned in such a manner. He was Laird, and he would be the one to lead the clan as he saw fit. But he knew that Elaine was right. His uncle was exerting too much influence, his men patrolling the castle and his words ever in Finlay’s ear. He could not be allowed to exert his influence further, but Finlay felt powerless to stop him.

  “I make my own decision well enough,” Finlay replied, not wishing Elaine to think him weak or ineffectual.

  “But ye have made few decisions of late, Finlay. Yer uncle is right on that matter; ye have barely left the castle these weeks past. There is much work to dae,” Elaine said.

  “And ye would have me told what to dae too?” Finlay replied, looking at Elaine angrily.

  It embarrassed him to think that she saw him as his uncle’s puppet. He wanted to be Laird, he wanted to lead, but Finlay had little idea of how to do so. Could he ever prove his worth as Laird, or would he be forever in his father’s shadow?

  “I am only sayin’ what I see,” Elaine replied.

  Finlay sighed and brought his fist down hard on the table, causing Carys to startle.

  “And it seems ye see well, lass,” he replied, “I will ride north to the castle of the MacDonalds. Tis’ my father’s legacy, which we uphold now. Peace with the MacDonalds and peace with the McRobs that is what I shall offer,” Finlay said, rising from the table.

  “Ye already have peace with my clan. My father is yer ally, as am I,” Elaine said.

  “And I shall say it again, Elaine, ye daenae have to remain here any longer. What is there here for ye?” Finlay said, embarrassed by the fact that Elaine remained at Kilchurn despite the tragedies that had befallen them.

  “I told ye, Finlay, I shall gladly remain here as a friend to ye. What dae I have to leave this place for if only to return to Carrick? There is nothin’ for me there except memories, as pleasant as they are, but here I might be of some use to ye,” Elaine replied, and Carys nodded.

  “Then I have found in ye one I am nae worthy of,” Finlay replied, shaking his head.

  “Of course ye are worthy. Any person is worthy of friendship,” Elaine replied.

  Finlay nodded, pushing aside his bowl and rising to his feet. He was grateful to Elaine for her words, but he knew that it was he and he alone who must now rise to the task ahead. He would ride north to make peace with the MacDonalds, not because his uncle demanded it but because his father’s legacy was such that Finlay knew it to be his duty.

  “We shall see,” Finlay replied, nodding to the two women as he strode out of the great hall.

  Out in the courtyard, he found his uncle in the stables with Dougal. The two looked up in surprise as Finlay approached, as though he had caught them amid conversation.

  “Ah, Finlay, ye have thought it fit to dae some work now, have ye? Or will ye sit around the castle all day and allow others to take the strain?” his uncle asked, half scowling at him.

  “I know my duties, uncle. The first is to the clan, and that is why I shall ride north this very day to sue for peace with the MacDonalds. Dougal, ye shall accompany me, along with ten other men. We shall dae all we can to make peace in the north and secure the alliances we need. What news is there from the south? Do the English still make their civil war?” Finlay asked, and Dougal nodded.

  “They dae, but their war does nae concern us,” he replied.

  “It concerns us well enough if it comes to our gates,” Finlay replied.

  “I am surprised by ye, nephew. I didnae think I should see this day. What is it that has so changed yer mind on the matter?” Finlay’s uncle asked.

  “Does the Laird need a reason to dae what is necessary for his clan?” Finlay asked, trying to sound bolder than he felt.

  He knew he had to stand up to his uncle and take a firmer command over all that was happening at Kilchurn. He was Laird, and he could no longer let his responsibilities lie. But Finlay knew too that his uncle was no friend. Long had he coveted power at Kilchurn, ever jealous of Finlay’s father, his brother, who had seemed to have everything he wanted.

  His uncle laughed, shaking his head and spitting onto the stable floor. He looked at Finlay with an unpleasant smile, glancing from him to Dougal and back.

  “Well then, it seems ye must make ready for yer journey north. Let us hope that the MacDonalds are willin’ to listen to yer words,” his uncle replied.

  “Tis’ the MacDonalds who sued for peace, uncle. They will listen, I have nay doubt of it,” Finlay replied, as he began to gather up equipment from around the stable.

  “Men change, Finlay, and what a man thought one day is nae always what he thinks the next. Be wary, lest the MacDonalds seek to play ye at yer own game,” his uncle said.

  Finlay ignored him. He did not need his uncle to advise caution in such matters. He had been present when his father had negotiated peace with other clans, and he knew well enough how to conduct himself. He would be cautious, ready as much with his sword as he was with his words.

  “I shall be wary, uncle, but I shall also heed my father’s example,” Finlay replied, causing his uncle to grimace.

  “Daenae hole yer father up as the model of diplomacy, Finlay. He had his faults, and well ye should remember,” his uncle replied.

  “I know that well enough, uncle. Nay man is perfect, nae my father, nae I, nae ye,” Finlay replied, words which caused his uncle to grimace even more.

  “Then be on yer way, Finlay, and may luck and fortune go with ye on the way,” his uncle replied, waving his hand dismissively.

  “Dae ye really think the MacDonalds will be so easily won round?” Dougal asked as Finlay’s uncle strode off across the courtyard.

  “I think we shall place our trust in the hope that we had before my father’s death. It was the MacDonalds who offered this olive branch to us; we are merely ridin’ out to take it. We shall see if they are still willin’ to offer it. Come now, we shall make ready. There has been enough idle talk of this adventure; we shall make it a truth now,” Finlay replied.

  Elaine was surprised to hear the pipers in the castle courtyard sometime later that morning. She had dismissed Finlay’s words as idle talk, for he had done little to live up to expectations in the weeks gone by. All he had done was to remain at Kilchurn, seeming uninterested in the affairs of the clan or of his own duties. He was Laird only in name, and Elaine had begun to worry for his future if he did not step up to the responsibility, which was his.

  She had watched him from a distance, wondering when he would finally take on the burden that was his. It seemed he was lost, still clinging to a past that no longer existed and from which he must soon break free if he were to be Laird in his father’s place. Now, it seemed that Finlay was doing just that, and having sent Carys to find out what was going on, Elaine now found herself in the castle courtyard watching Finlay’s final preparations.

  “They will ride north today, tis’ a long journey, mistress,” Carys said, as the two women stood together.

  Finlay had assembled a party of ten riders, along with himself and Dougal. They looked magnificent in their chain armor, banners fluttering in the breeze and shields emblazoned with the MacCallum crest. Elaine could not help but think how handsome Finlay appeared; finally, the warrior and nobleman he was meant to be. He had the look of a Laird, far different from his appearance over the previous weeks.
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br />   “But a journey with a purpose to it and one we must give thanks for,” Elaine said, watching as Finlay finished attaching his saddlebag to the horse and came over to greet them.

  “Ye will be comfortable here while I am away?” he asked, his helmet under his arm.

  Elaine nodded. He really did look very handsome in his armor, though she reminded herself that such thoughts were not appropriate for her to think. Nevertheless, it was thoughts just as these which had filled her mind recently, causing her to think much about what the future might hold. Elaine had come to Kilchurn to marry Finlay’s father, but now she found herself attracted to his son, a most confusing and strange set of feelings to contend with.