The Highland Hero (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

by Emilia Ferguson

  Blaine sighed. “I was a fool,” he admitted. “I have since understood your advice. I...” he ran a hand down his face, trying to explain how he felt. “I am not angry with my wife,” he said firmly. “None of this is her fault.” Alina nodded, and he continued. “I know she is...happier...away from here. From me,” he choked. “But I want to see her. I have to know she's safe.”

  Alina smiled. She reached her hand across the tablecloth, and placed it over his. Blaine noticed her touch was fractionally less cold than it had been, which was reassuring. She laughed.

  “Blaine, I'm not a ghoul. I care for Chrissie like my own daughter. You know that. And she loves you. Trust her.”

  Blaine sighed. “I'll try.”

  “And you can trust yourself while you're about it,” Alina added, some of her acerbic nature returning to her voice as she moved her hand, reaching for a slice of crusty bread. “You are better able to support her when you do.”

  She sopped the bread in the blood, face intent, and Blaine felt his own breakfast move queasily in his stomach as she raised it to her lips. He nodded, eyes on the wall.

  “I think I have to go and check on the building works,” he said, swallowing hard. “Excuse me, Lady Alina.”

  Her laugh followed him out.

  Out in the fresh air, Blaine collected his thoughts. He knew where his wife was! He could go and see her.

  He looked around. He couldn't very well just up and off if Duncan and his brother were away in the fields. He had to stay to oversee the masonry work, at least until they returned. He decided he would set out for Lochlann tomorrow.

  He had to see her.

  Early the next morning, Blaine slipped away. He considered leaving a note for Duncan, but decided against it. He walked past the solar and saw Alina there at breakfast. She smiled at him archly.

  “Shall I tell them when you'll come back?”

  Blaine sighed. Sometimes, he wasn't sure whether she amazed or terrified him. In either case, prescience made matters simpler.

  “Tell them I'll be back in a week,” he offered.

  “Good,” she said cryptically. He left her smiling her secret smile, drinking her daily dose of blood.

  The ride to Lochlann took a whole day, so Blaine set out early and took provisions. By the time the first streaks of wintry sunset were painting the sky red, he could see the squat edifice of Lochlann brooding on the hillside ahead.

  Only a few hundred yards before I am beside her once again.

  As he nudged Bert into the climb up the hillside, he could not help feeling suddenly nervous. What would she be like? Would she be willing to see him? Or would she still be angry? He sighed.

  I have to try.

  Simply thinking of Chrissie fired his loins in a way he could not have imagined. However, it brought its own sadness, its own wistfulness. Had he turned her away from him? Could they ever get back to that easy closeness they had shared before? The simple joy of waking up beside each other, kisses in the wan dawn?

  “Chrissie,” he whispered under his breath. “I want that again. I want you.”

  He shook his head to clear it. He was at the gate now. He stopped, feeling the strangeness of halting at the gate. I used to command here.

  He stopped outside the gate, squinting up at the two men on sentry duty. One he could not remember, while the other one he recognized. Kenneth.

  “State your business,” he said to Blaine, seeming uncomfortable.

  “Oh, for Heaven's sake...Kenneth! I'm here to see my wife. You can make allowances for that?”

  “Wait a moment,” Kenneth said. He looked as if he felt extremely awkward, which he doubtless did. He left Blaine outside the gate, stamping and shivering with cold. Bert recognized the place, clearly, for he rested his head on Blaine's shoulder where they stood together and huffed in his ear, seemingly impatiently.

  At length, they heard Kenneth's feet clicking on the flagstones.

  “The mistress says you can come in. If you go to the great hall.”

  The mistress? Blaine blinked. Who would that be? Not Chrissie, surely? Still surprised, he followed Kenneth in through the familiar gateway, made suddenly strange, and into the great hall.

  “There you are,” an arid voice said. Blaine looked around, and then blinked as his gaze found the speaker. A small old lady stood there, the light from the candles glowing on her white hair, giving her a soft gold aura. Her eyes were bright and piercing and she looked up at him with a knowing smile.

  Blaine shivered. Though she seemed friendly, something uncompromising about her chilled his blood. “You are...”

  “Aili Brodway. You know of me.”

  Blaine swallowed hard. “Y...yes.”

  The old lady laughed, showing white teeth. “I see that you do. Now. You came to see your wife.”

  “Yes,” Blaine said. He found talking to Aunt Aili, with her fearsome reputation, frightening. “Is she here? Please. I need to...”

  “Wait,” Aili said. He stopped talking at once and she smiled, seeming amused by her power to terrify him. “You are not ready to see her yet, I don't think.”

  Blaine stared at her. His heart was pounding, his body was alive with nerves. He had to see Chrissie again! The thought was all that kept him on his feet right now.

  “What? But why? How? Please...”

  “Oh, hush,” the old lady said again. She looked, if anything, mildly annoyed. “You can sleep in the guest quarters tonight. It's late and your wife is too tired to receive visitors. You can see her in the morning.”

  Blaine felt weak with relief suddenly. Was that all? He wanted to laugh. “Thank you,” he said. “I will come here directly tomorrow.”

  “If she is ready to see you,” the old lady said firmly.

  Blaine sighed. Why would she not be? He suddenly felt afraid again. “What is happening? Why would she not be ready to see me? Please...I'm worried for her.”

  Aili smiled, then. She squeezed his hand, and he was surprised at how warm and strong her fingers were, her touch seeming to revitalize his tired bones. “Your heart's in the right place, lad,” she said kindly. “Now, go and rest. We'll see you the morrow.”

  “I...yes. Thank you, my lady,” Blaine bowed. “Thank you.”

  She smiled, and seemed to find his attitude vaguely amusing. Blaine left with the feeling of her eyes, boring into his back as he climbed the stairs. He thought he heard her laugh and wondered what was going on.

  All he knew was that within a few hours, he would be able to see his wife again. He prayed that all would be resolved between them.

  He fell asleep that night with his arms curled round the bolster, dreaming of Chrissie.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  A NEW DAY

  A NEW DAY

  Chrissie woke that morning feeling strangely energized. She sat at her place at the round table waiting for Aili to join her for breakfast, feeling a happy restlessness fill her, some strange excitement she could not fathom. She had dressed in white linen and asked Stella to bind her hair in ribbons. She felt pretty and alive, ready for everything.

  “Aunt!” she said, cheeks flushed, as Aili came to join her. The older woman was wearing black, and her face was softened by a gentle smile. She looked as if she was mildly amused by something, though what it was Chrissie could not guess.

  “Ah, there is Stella,” her aunt exclaimed, as her maid came in, bearing a vast platter on which resided a loaf and rashers of cured ham, some butter, and cheese reposing in a dish off to one side.

  Chrissie saw her watchful eyes regarding her, twinkling, as she reached for a generous slice of bread and ham. She felt so hungry! The sickness was relenting now – at least for today – and she had twice the appetite she usually did.

  “Aunt?”

  Aunt Aili chuckled. “You are loved, I hope you know. He suits you very well.”

  “Aunt..?” Chrissie asked again, swallowing a mouthful of bread and ham. Did she mean..? Could it be that..?

 
; Aili chuckled, as if suddenly relenting. “Well, that tells me all I need to know. He's here. Your man. Now at least I know you want him as he does you. He's downstairs.”

  “What?” Chrissie stared at her, feeling her heart suddenly flying like a lark, soaring on wings of happy joy. “But how? When..?” She half stood, and then sat down again heavily, legs swinging as restlessness overtook her. She had to go down now! Had to see him!

  “Yesterday, late in the evening,” Aili confessed, answering her question, and taking a bite of the bread. Chrissie stared.

  “And you didn't tell me? But why? When..?”

  Aili laughed, waving a hand at her. “You and he suit each other, you know? Oh, yes, he is clueless about many things. Grounded, practical. However, I think your bright spirit is airy enough for both of you. You will do very well.”

  “Aunt!” Chrissie exclaimed. She jumped out of her seat and placed a kiss on her aunt's soft hair. When she turned to face her, already halfway across the room, she saw her aunt's eyes shone as if she cried. “Aunt Aili?”

  “Hush yersel',” her aunt said roughly, waving a hand in her direction. “You can go and ready yourself if you like...he should be waiting downstairs. But will you not break your fast first?”

  “Oh, I couldn't, Aunt!” Chrissie said, turning in a little circle where she stood, feeling joy bubble up within her. “I'm so excited. I can't wait to see him...” she trailed off, almost through the door. “He knows, doesn't he?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

  Her concern must have shown in her face, for her aunt stood. She looked into her eyes, her level gaze grounding her fears. “Aye, lass. He knows.”

  “And he's not angry? He's...” Chrissie trailed off, feeling nervous.

  Aili squeezed her hand. This morning, her hands did not seem cold, but seemed to radiate gentle warmth, strengthening Chrissie's resolve. She smiled. “He knows, lass. And he was worried for you. He will be happy to see you. And he will love the child you bear.”

  Chrissie felt something inside her melt. An icicle of sadness, of horror, that had frozen there over the last days, from when she first heard the news of the child she bore. She sobbed. She wrapped her arms round her diminutive aunt and her shoulders shook with grief.

  “There, there,” her aunt said, rocking her gently, patting her back. “There, there.”

  When they moved apart, when Chrissie had cried out her grief, she sniffed, and her aunt stood back. She looked, if anything, slightly sheepish at having shown so much care and letting slip the reputation of the fearsome seer. She straightened up, slipping back into her remoter self.

  “Thank you, Aunt Aili.”

  “Pish! 'Tis nothing,” her aunt said roughly. “Now go and find that man. He's waiting downstairs.” She was already turning back to the table, straightening a pitcher and the candlesticks. “And liable to be pacing with nerves, if I read him rightly,” she added with some amusement.

  Chrissie giggled. She had, indeed, read him rightly. “Thank you, Aunt! I shall.”

  Hugging her joy to her chest, she ran lightly from the room.

  Downstairs, the pale sunlight drifted through the high windows, making a haze that made it hard to see. Chrissie slit her eyes and danced down the stairs lightly to the great hall. Was that a man she saw at the end of the hall, back stiff with tension, cloak trailing on the floor behind?

  “Blaine?” she whispered.

  She saw his back tense. Saw him stiffen and then turn. Saw him walk towards her, that same rolling, gentle gait she would recognize anywhere, and had come to love.

  “Blaine!” she cried out. She ran to him then, and he caught her in his arms, holding her close.

  “Chrissie!” he sobbed. “Oh, Chrissie!” He was smiling, face radiant, and covering her face with kisses. She giggled as his arms wrapped round her, holding her in a crushing embrace.

  “Blaine!” She laughed. As his lips tickled her throat, she let out a chuckle. “Blaine, stop it! You're squashing me.”

  He let go instantly, his face a picture of concern, and Chrissie felt quite guilty. She laughed, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Oh, my dear. You don't have to be so careful. Not really...not for months yet.”

  His face softened, then, and Chrissie felt her heart fill with joy.

  “So you are...really...”

  “Yes, Blaine,” she said gently. “Yes, it really is true. I really am with child.”

  He looked at her with wonder in his face and Chrissie felt her heart soar with joy and dissolve in tenderness at once. She wrapped her arms around him.

  “Blaine,” she whispered. “I love you. I love you so very, very much.”

  Blaine went very still. She could feel his chest working as he swallowed, and she guessed he was trying not to weep. She looked into his eyes and noticed they, too, were damp. She leaned up and kissed him, her own face soaked with tears.

  “I am so proud you are my wife, Chrissie,” he whispered into her hair. “So, so proud.”

  Chrissie did sob then. His arms wrapped her close and they stood in the ghostly pale hall, the sound of her gentle weeping echoing as the light filled the place, diffusing into every corner, dispelling the dark.

  Later, as they went upstairs together, they found themselves overflowing with questions.

  “How did you..?”

  “When did you..?”

  They spoke at once and then smiled shyly at each other.

  “You say first,” Blaine said, smiling.

  Chrissie twisted her skirt, feeling as shy as if she had just met him. “I wanted to ask how...when you found out where I was?”

  Blaine sighed. “Alina,” he said briefly.

  “She told you? Oh!” Chrissie covered her mouth with her hand and then looked at him, wide-eyed. “How does she fare? Is she getting well?”

  Blaine thought back to his strange encounter with his wife's cousin over breakfast. “I think she is,” he said slowly. “In fact, she seems to have more life in her already. But...”

  “What?” Chrissie asked, suddenly worried.

  “But for some strange reason, I think she's...well, never mind,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

  “Never mind what?” Chrissie asked, feeling suddenly curious.

  “Is she drinking blood?”

  Chrissie laughed. They were in the upper hallway now, the darkness friendly here, pressing close. She leaned on the lintel and laughed and laughed.

  Blaine looked on, bemused.

  “What?” he asked, a little helplessly when she had finished laughing.

  Chrissie breathed in, gathering herself. “Oh,” she said, smiling. “I'm very glad to hear it, really I am. It was just your face!”

  Blaine grinned hesitantly and they both laughed. Then, wrapping their arms around each other, he drew her into a tender kiss. Chrissie sighed as his mouth grazed her lips, passionate, devouring.

  Then the door was open and they were in the guest quarters, the fire still burning in the grate, the bed covered with a white linen cloth, warm and scented with strewing herb.

  Blaine undressed her tenderly, leaving a little trail of kisses down her back that set her whole body afire as he undid the buttons down the back of her gown. Chrissie felt as if she would go mad if it didn't stop soon. It did. He stood up and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against him.

  “Lass,” he breathed into her hair.

  “Your turn,” she said firmly. He chuckled, a little breathless, and she turned to face him, and then slowly lifted his tunic. She heard his breath catch in his throat as she pressed her naked skin to his chest and smiled, delighting in his longing for her. It matched hers.

  He held her to him, a new tenderness in his embrace. She felt it and her heart melted. She unfastened his belt, letting the trews slide off his thighs. His loins pressed against her, stiff and firm, and she smiled, pressing her body against it.

  They collapsed back onto the bed. He held her gently, ensuring she did not
fall too hard. He kissed her, his tongue soft and gentle as it explored her lips. Then he sat up, discarding the trews, a smile on his face.

  “I want you, lass,” he said, his hand moving over her body, stroking the soft skin of her chest, moving down to her belly. “But is it...I mean, can we..?”

  She chuckled, then, and the laughter was tinged with tears. “Yes, dear,” she said firmly. “Yes, we can. We won't have to be so careful. Not for months, now.”

  He smiled, then, relief in his big grin. She smiled back at him.

  Still smiling, he lowered his body onto hers and he slid inside. They moved together, a gentleness that touched her deeply possessing him as he drew back and thrust, drew back and thrust. Each time was a little deeper, a little faster, and Chrissie felt her body respond, her toes tingling as he increased the pace, moving faster and faster and faster.

  “Oh...oh!” She cried out as, sooner than she would have imagined possible, she felt the rise and rise and then the crest and fall as her release happened.

  Blaine was still deep inside her, still moving, and she felt his body strain and shake as he, too started to climax.

  “Oh,” he moaned, and then grunted in satisfaction and ecstatic climax.

  Later, as the sun cast warm, early afternoon rays through their chamber window, they lay side by side in the bed, both recovering from their encounter. Chrissie snuggled close. He kissed her on the side of the head and she kissed his nose.

  “I love you, Blaine,” she whispered into his ear. “Nothing will ever come between us.”

  Blaine lay still for a moment, and Chrissie wondered if he slept. Then he drew in a breath and she realized he had been fighting to swallow his emotion.

  “I love you too, Chrissie,” he whispered into her hair. He kissed the top of her head and then wrapped his arms around her, toppling her onto her side so that they lay together, bodies entwined.