Highland Promise

by Amanda Anderson

  Yes, this one English rose could mean ruin for the MacGregors and his mother refused to even consider it.

  She looked up when he stepped inside and her blue eyes held him captive and made him feel like less of a man than he knew himself to be. They were red rimmed and her skin was as pale as the snow. Her pert little nose was red on the tip and even Malcom could tell the girl had been crying. She looked as if her world had crumbled and perhaps that is how she felt, but there were far worse things in this world than what this pampered little miss had suffered.

  “You must me Anne.” He said gruffly in greeting.

  Anne had never seen a man the likes of this one. He was wrapped in a colorful garb in true Scotsman style. His hair was a mass of dark, as untamed as the man himself seemed to be. His feet were covered in mud to his ankles and his face was smudged with something she couldn’t identify. His appearance was nothing less than fierce and even more frightening than the thought of having to live in this untamed wilderness.

  So why was her heart fluttering in her chest? Why did her cheeks feel flushed at just the sight of him?

  She reached up to cover her hot face when he spoke. She felt her legs quiver in the most delicious way. How could this ruffian affect her so?

  She was innocent, completely so and had never even shared a kiss with a man, but just being in the same room with this untamed barbarian felt too intimate.

  She looked to Moira, how could this woman be his mother? The curve of Moira’s lips and the slight twinkle in her eyes told Anne that Moira could read her reaction as if it were written on her face in ink.

  She took a deep breath and tried to settle her thoughts.

  “I am. And who might you be sir?”

  He actually looked baffled for a moment. Then he shuffled his feet in a way that would have made her believe he was uncomfortable if he were a regular gentleman. He certainly was not.

  “Malcom MacGregor. Your benefactor as it would seem.” He cut his eyes toward Moira s his voice grew severe at the end as if he were not happy about the situation.

  Anne was speechless. This man was to be her savior, but he clearly didn’t relish the thought. Well, they had that in common at least.

  “I thank you my lord.” She stood to her feet and offered a curtsey suited to the meeting of one’s benefactor.

  “Awe hell. There’s no need for that lass. I know you want to be here about as much as I want you here. We will have to make the best of it, although it seems I am getting the short end of the bargain.” He ran his hand over his hair that hung in dark waves around his shoulders save for a few strands that had been braided and pulled to the back.

  “You’ll learn soon enough that this is not a life suited to your sort.”

  How insufferably rude. “I’ve never. This was not my choice, but I intend to be as little trouble as possible.”

  “Oh aye, I can see that. You intend to sit there on your pretty arse and sip your tea while everyone else works their hands raw?”

  “No. I hadn’t… I only just arrived… I don’t know how to…You see what I mean to say is…. I’ve never...”

  “Aye I figure that is the truth of it. You don’t know how to do a damned thing. Just sit and look pretty for your handsome English peacocks. Well there will be no one here preening for a smile from you and if ye don’ work, ye don’ eat around here so I expect you’ll be learning fairly quickly. You don’t look like ye can miss many meals.”

  “Why I have never been so insulted in all of my life. How dare you sir. I may be living on your mercy, but I do not expect to be treated with such contempt. This is not my fault. I didn’t ask for any of it.” She wanted to curse herself for her lack of control as her voice quivered. “I would go anywhere else if I had the choice.”

  “Nor did I! Where will you sleep? There is no room. No fine furnishings here, no servants. No one to empty your chamber pot and bring your meals. How is it my fault or my duty to supply ye with any of it? How does it fall to me?”

  She could take no more. Tears flooded her eyes and ran in rivers down her face. She dared a look up at the brute that had attacked her so fiercely and was stunned by his look of fear.

  “You cruel brute. How dare you. You know nothing of my situation and yet you attack me like a coward. I am not hiding behind my ignorance as you seem determined to do by your discrimination of my person. I will learn to do anything I can and I will earn my keep or I assure you I will not take a single bite of your precious food.”

  Malcom stepped back. He had done just as she said. He felt like and arse. He ran his hands over his hair.

  “Aye lass, I am a brute. You’d do well to remember that and get off your arse and help tend the house you find yourself living in.”

  “I intend to.” Anne demanded.

  “Ye can’t do much dressed like the queen now can you?”

  “Malcom, you were not raised to treat a lady with such harshness. Miss Anne is a guest, not a servant. She is not suited to this life. It is not her fault that her upbringing was not suited to a life she was never expected to lead. You will regret this day.” Moira swatted her son. He stood head and shoulders taller than her, but she didn’t back down.

  “I insisted that she change out of that ill-fitting garb she arrived in and don one of her own gowns. It’s a comfort to have something of your own when you have lost everythin’ and I do mean everythin’.”

  “I am sorry Anne dear. There is a great weight on my son and that has apparently made him forget his manner and how to treat a lady. I would hope he treats the lowest of his men better than he just treated you now.”

  “He is right Moira. There just isn’t room for me here. Let me go home. Send me away, anywhere, but please send me away from here. I beg you.”

  Anne watched Moira. Her hair coming out of her long braid. Her dress was simple and drab similar to the one she had worn on her journey, but it was clean aside from the hem that was spattered with mud due to her chores outdoors. Moira had been out for hours. Anne had no idea what the woman could have been doing, but the weariness that pinched her face spoke of something tiresome.

  Her eyes met Moira’s blue ones. Anne really was no better than Malcom had said.

  “I’m so sorry for being a burden.” She said in a broken whisper that brought Moira to her with her arms wide.

  It felt so good to feel comfort from Moira, almost as good as Margret’s arms had always felt.

  “You are welcome here Anne. I admit that I do not know all of your situation, but if this is thought to be the safest place for you I dare say it would be foolish to let you leave.”

  Moira pulled her to sit on the modest sofa.

  “How can you do this? I know you must hate me if only because of my blood. I admit I am ignorant of much of it, but I do know enough.”

  “Margret is my oldest and dearest friend. There is little I would deny her, especially this. I have few friends left in this world.” Moira patted Anne’s cheek. “I doubt you were among the men who came here to fight so you really cannot be blamed for their evil deeds, you are still but a child dear.”

  “Wait a minute.” Malcom put in. “Margret MacTaggart sent her? Is this some kind of joke? She sent this chit here to live with us? She’s testing me! Why would they seek to dishonor me so?”

  “Yes you arse and we will keep her safe until Margret sends word. This is not forever, just until Margaret can make things right and I dare say you are reading far too much into it. This has nothing to do with the alliance.”

  Anne looked to the brute who still would not come fully into the room. He looked caged. His blue eyes were as wild as a cat she’d tried to catch in an alley when she was a child. He looked as if he would rip her apart if she got too close.

  The bulging muscles in his arms told her he would need very little effort to accomplish such a thing should he wish it.

  She shivered at the thought of his hands on her flesh, but it was not fear that sent a flush to her cheeks and when she me
t his gaze she saw it mirrored in his eyes too.

  “Why would she care what happened to one English rose? Why go to all this trouble?”

  “Margret nursed Miss Anne and practically raised her. She is like her own child. I would not expect you to understand such a thing, but there are those who actually care for others, even if it makes no sense.”

  Malcom still looked unsure and Moira’s words had hit their mark. He looked as if she’d stung him.

  “You are right. I don’t understand such tender feelings of foolishness nor do I understand why the lass was not sent to Margaret’s own people.”

  Moira’s eyes were sad and her voice low when she spoke. “It would not be safe for her there. Perhaps even more dangerous than staying in London. There is much I cannot share with even you.”

  “That’s a bunch of shite! Ye can’t be keepin’ secrets now!”

  Anne could see that Malcom was furious. “I don’t know how to live her, but I can learn.” Anne said with a hopeful voice.

  “Bahh you can’t work a farm dressed like the queen and I doubt anything you brought is less fine than that one.” Malcom cursed, but less because her dress offended him and more because he was drawn to her. He wanted her to shine less. He wanted her to blend in with the others.

  “I did bring a dress that will suffice. Teach me and I will try. I know how to sew and how to care for animals a little. I had pets when I was small and we lived in the country for a time. I even learned how to cook a few things when my mother was out of the house. Margret taught me a few things.” Anne vowed in a small voice.

  “Oh honey. You sweet lass. You need to settle in first. We will worry about all this nonsense later. You have suffered far more than the rest of us and with more grace. I’ll not have you working yourself to death. We will figure it all out when we have fewer people looking over our shoulder.”

  Anne was so confused. She had never been treated so poorly in all her life. Gentlemen usually went out of their way to please her. Perhaps that was the problem… Malcom MacGregor was certainly no gentleman.

  “This is ridiculous. There’s no place for her to sleep! She can’t stay here. It just will not work.”

  “Fine! She can go back with you. If you think she’s not able to stay here, then take her back with you, but she will be under your protection alone.”

  “Nay. Nay!”

  Then he was gone. Anne was instantly cold to the bone, as if he had taken all of the warmth from her blood with him when he stormed out of the cottage.

  “I will try.” She whispered, but she didn’t know if she was talking to herself or to the woman seated next to her.

  “I know you will dear and it will be just fine.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Malcom had ridden harder than was necessary to reach the village his family now inhabited. He couldn’t get Anne out of his head. Couldn’t stop imagining how her skin would feel under his hands.

  He had forced himself to stay away far longer than usual to try to get her out of his head, but she haunted him like a specter. Her voice floated to him on the breeze and her touch lingered on his skin even after the sun rose and his dreams faded.

  He had rushed to the village in a moment of weakness. He hadn’t even prepared or brought his usual guard, just a few men and what they could carry on their horses.

  None had questioned him, but he had seen the looks that passed between his men.

  Now he stood panting and could barely remember the journey that had brought him.

  She looked up from where she sat on a pile of straw. She held a lamb in her lap and with her hair braided down her back she looked too much like she belonged. The pull in his chest made him angry because he could do naught about how he felt for this woman. It didn’t matter how much she fit, he was promised to another, a woman he had never met, a woman that secured his alliance with the MacTaggarts.

  An alliance that would save his clan from ruin.

  It didn’t matter how much he longed for Anne, how much he hungered for her, she was forbidden fruit. He had to put his clan first. He had to resist her at all cost.

  “I am earning my keep.” Anne spoke with more fire than she had when they had last spoken.

  “Bahh, it looks like you’re playin’ with that lamb if you ask me. That is nay earning your keep.”

  “I don’t recall anyone askin’ you what you thought.”

  Malcom fought a grin. He was sure Anne had no idea that she was beginning to have a nice Scottish brogue. It sounded far too sweet in her lilting voice, but it made his heart sing.

  He shifted. His interests had to be stopped or they would grow more difficult to hide. He propped his forearms on the paddock railing and watched Anne. She was beautiful. The stubborn set to her mouth told him she was intent on ignoring him completely and he wanted her to notice him.

  “Malcom, we weren’t expectin’ you.” His brother John said as he stepped out of the barn.

  Anne looked up when John stepped out of the barn.

  John and Alan, who was married to Malcom’s sister Aggie, were their guards. Anne didn’t understand why guards were needed, but she didn’t question it. There were too many questions she needed to answer, she couldn’t worry about the politics of the highlands, but she felt safer with them around.

  “What is she doing out here?” Malcom demanded in a voice that made her shiver inside.

  “Ah Miss Anne is a natural with the little ones. We lost the mam and Miss Anne had taken over. She’s a wonder. Will make a fine mam herself someday. We would have lost the wee one if it hadn’t been for her care.”

  “She shouldn’t be out in this night air John. You are charged with keeping her safe, not letting her kill herself. Are ye daft man? Would ye let yer wife out in this?”

  John shook his head and laughed as if Malcom’s anger was a great joke. “Aye, I rarely argue with a female who knows her own mind.”

  “I don’t understand what problem you have with me. I am doing exactly what you wanted.” Anne demanded as she set the little lamb on his feet.

  Malcom’s temper simmered. “Where is my mother?”

  Anne plopped her fists on her hips and faced him. She was tired of him treating her like she was nothing but a burden. She had worked as hard as any of the others over the past few months and she was tired of him acting as if she were still sitting drinking tea. “Inside. She wasn’t feeling well so she went in to lie down.”

  “Have you checked on her?” Malcom rushed out. “Or was playing with your pet more important to you than her wellbeing?”

  “Of course I did.” Anne had heard enough. “I am not a monster. Your sister is with her. She is fine Malcom. She was just tired! We all are. This life isn’t easy!” Anne frowned. Malcom looked as if she’d slapped him.

  He rushed into the house to find his mother lying on the sofa. Aggie was by her side, her belly round with child. John’s wife, Skye sat and rocked a squalling babe in her arms. How could a woman like Anne ever be happy here?

  Malcom couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand what his family had been reduced to and he hated the feeling of inadequacy that overtook him at the thought of Anne sharing his life. It was impossible, but that didn’t stop his treacherous mind from throwing images around in his head.

  “I know that look.” Moira said as she pushed up until she sat. “We aren’t suffering here. It’s only for a while and then we can all come home. I just tried to do too much.”

  “Aye, I know that.” He backed up, intent on getting water so he felt like he had done something to help, but he bumped into Anne.

  Water sloshed from the buckets she carried and soaked her skirts.

  Malcom grabbed the buckets, “What are you trying to do Anne? First you sit out in the night air and now you half drown yourself. Do you think we don’t have enough to do? We can’t afford for you to take ill.”

  She shoved against his chest. “I’m trying to do my part. I’m doing what you said I had to do.”

/>   Malcom caught her hand before his chest again and she winced. He forced it open to find the skin angry and red. Her hands were beginning to roughen, not the hands of a lady any longer, but those of a servant.

  He had done this to her.

  He pushed her out the door and closed it behind them.

  “I didn’t mean you should do the work of a man. I didn’t mean you should hurt yourself.” His thumb stroked over her petal soft skin and caressed her reddened palm.

  “What am I supposed to do then?” She spat.

  It was too much. Her eyes sparked with anger and confusion. Her lips pulled down in a frown.

  He lost all control as he pulled her to him and kissed her. She didn’t resist him. Her body was pliant in his arms as he pulled her ever closer. His lips parted hers and his tongue touched the sweetness of her. He sighed as his body reacted to her in a way he’d never felt. His chest burned with something he couldn’t explain as he learned the secrets of her sweet mouth.

  When her arms circled his neck he was lost. Nothing mattered but her. Nothing mattered but tasting more.

  “Malcom?”

  He pulled away from Anne, panting, confused. Fiona stood just behind her. Fiona who had filled his bed more nights than he could count. Sweet Fiona, now with tears in her eyes, all because of this English curse that had come into their lives uninvited and unwanted. This woman who had bewitched him.

  He looked at Anne. That was what she had done. This was nothing but a spell she had cast over him and he had been too weak to resist it.

  He stepped back in horror as he realized what he had done. Fiona’s pale face held accusations that he couldn’t deny. He turned and walked away. Away from Fiona’s pain and away from Anne’s look of drunken desire. He knew it was cowardly. He should say something, to both of them, but he wanted peace. All he wanted in his life was just a season of peace. Anne had shattered all hope of that.

  He made his way to the barn and saddled his horse. He shouldn’t have come back.

  “You shouldn’t take yours. He needs the rest. Take mine.” Alan said as he stepped into the dimness of the barn.