The Highlander's Secret Maiden: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Lydia Kendall

  “I knew it was ye, nobody else aboot here would wait for me tae tell them to come in, they’d just barge in through the door,” he said and grinned.

  “Well, that would be rather impolite now wouldn’t it?” she asked teasingly.

  “Polite or no, I’m glad tae see ye,” he said with sincerity. A far better sight than the doctor, right enough.

  “I’ve brought you dinner,” Georgina said, her cheeks blushing pink at his words.

  “Ach, thanks luv,” he said.

  She moved towards him and he strained to push himself up to sitting. “Ye can put that doon there,” he said, pointing to the wee table that sat by the bed.

  “I doubt I’ll be very good company tryin’ tae eat this. Ye go back downstairs an’ enjoy yer own meal, I’ll be fine here on me own,” I feel like I’m gonnae spew and that’s the last thing I want ye seeing.

  “Oh, Marcas, I could hardly leave you here all by yourself,” she urged.

  “What kind o’ gentleman would I be if I let ye miss dinner just tae hang aboot the room o’ a sick person?” Marcas asked. “Besides, if I pass oot mid-conversation, then ye’ll hardly think much o’ me, will ye? The doc says I could’ve lost me leg. He made me promise I’d rest as soon as he left, figured I may as well humor him.”

  Concern fired up in her eyes as he said this. Yes, now I don’t look nearly so pathetic.

  “Oh, of course, the doctor knows best. I’ll leave you to rest up, and please eat if you can. I’ll come and check on you in the morning,” Georgina said before she slipped out of the room again.

  Oh, thank god, just in time.

  Marcas leaned over the bed and vomited into the empty pot Mrs. Loganach had left there for just such an eventuality.

  Chapter 20

  Several days passed after Marcas arrived back at Carnarvan. It was a right pain for him to have come back as incapacitated as he did, as Conall could have done with a right-hand man to attend to all the business that he’d fallen behind with. In all the excitement of first taking Georgina up here and then having to go rescue her, much of his duties had taken a backseat.

  Christ, did faither ever get a day off? The tricky part about being laird was acting as a landlord to many folk in the community. Now that he’d taken a look at the rent incomings, it was clear that there were shortages from some of their tenants.

  Do they think that they can just get away wi’ it an’ pull the wool over me eyes? Just because I’m not me faither doesn’t mean they can take advantage. He was too darned stubborn to ask for advice on how to handle the situation. Usually he’d rely on Marcas’ input only to end up doing whatever he felt like in the first place.

  As he knocked on the door to the McColl’s farmhouse, he tried to put on an intimidating facial expression. Good morning, Mr. McColl, I am here about the rent. Or should I faff about with small talk aboot the weather first?

  After waiting a good few minutes to a closed door, he tried again. Oh, come on, I’ve no' got all day. He tapped his foot impatiently, he really hated waiting, but it seemed that was what he was destined for as there was no sign of his tenants, even after taking a look round the back. Well, dash that. Maybe I should just evict them.

  The rest of his morning was equally tedious, paying a visit to the village to check up on the running of the local businesses and signing off on some boring deal with the Earl of Caithness. Christ, this man could send the best o’ us tae sleep. Don’t think I’ve ever heard such a droning voice.

  Some of the lasses were out and about, eager to get his attention.

  “Oh, hi Laird McGowan, fine tae see ye this morning,” Shelly Druiminn purred without an ounce of subtlety. Mary Sutharlan was much the same, stroking his arm as she greeted him with a lusty stare. Ach they’re both easy pickings. Would it kill them tae have a touch o’ coyness aboot them?

  Truthfully, neither of these easy birds held any of the allure that Georgina did. Now there’s a fine filly and a challenge too.

  Perhaps it was the competitive element, given that his brother was clearly smitten with her, or the desire to truly get one over on Morgan Bolton once and for all.

  It’s all very well him thinking that I’ve beaten him tae the bush, but knowing it is quite another thing. Imagine the embarrassment he’d endure with everyone knowin’ that his betrothed had chosen me instead. I don’t care if it leads tae battle, as long as he’s defeated in every way possible.

  Conall mulled all this over in his mind as he strolled back up the hill. The closer he got to the castle, the more Georgina was in the forefront of his mind. Fine that, she’s a challenge indeed, but surely, I have the edge after coming to her rescue like that, and it was awfully nice tae cuddle up together on those cold nights on the road.

  It had unsettled him at first how this had stuck in his mind, even though he’d not done anything close to bedding her. It was certainly unusual for him to lay with a woman like that without taking it further. She looked so sad and vulnerable, it would have been wrong to try and bed her after being kidnapped and all.

  Christ Conall, when did ye get so soppy?

  “Aye, aye Mrs. Loganach,” he called out as he waltzed in through the kitchen, his belly rumbling.

  “Mornin’ Conall, ye in fer a bite?” she asked indulgently.

  “I thought ye'd never ask,” he joked.

  “Well fine that, I’ll fix ye up some bread and cheese.” She offered.

  “And a spot o’ tea wi’ it?” he asked with a wink.

  “Och, I suppose,” she said.

  “Yer a star, Mrs. Loganach, don’t ken what we’d do without ye aboot here,” Conall announced as he sat down and waited.

  She tutted as she came over with the plate of food and pot of tea, trying to look annoyed at him barging in mid-morning, but he could tell she didn’t really mind, having always had a soft spot for him.

  “Ta, Mrs. Loganach,” he said, piling on the charm before stuffing a chunk of very buttery bread into his mouth.

  As he ate, Georgina emerged, carrying some empty dishes down the stairs.

  “Ye ken we have a maid fer that?” Conall said. What on earth is she doing with those?

  She looked at him reproachfully, “I’m just helping out your sick brother, Conall,” she retorted.

  Dash that. Why can’t Fiona do that? Why does it have to be her?

  “It’s very admirable o’ ye and all, but I hope he’s no’ takin’ advantage o’ yer helpful nature,” Conall said.

  “He certainly isn’t,” she quipped, stalking past him to deposit the dishes in the kitchen. “Do you need a hand, Mrs. Loganach?” he heard her ask.

  “Ach no dear, that’s very sweet o’ ye tae ask,” Mrs. Loganach said, dismissing her from the kitchen.

  “Here lass, sit an’ have a cuppa,” he said, pulling out a chair and gesturing to the steaming pot of tea.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said hesitantly, looking towards the door like she wasn’t sure where she should be.

  “Come on, ye’d be doin’ me a favor keeping me company,” he urged, his tone flirty.

  “Oh, alright,” she gave in and sat down. He felt a little thrill of satisfaction. I wonder what else I can convince her to do.

  He poured her a cup of tea and made a show of asking how she was, using his most sympathetic voice. “I ken ye’ve had a rough time o’ it, lass, I just want to make sure ye’re alright.”

  She looked into her steaming cup for a few moments before raising her eyes to assess him. “I’m fine, thank you for asking. I’m trying to just put all that unpleasantness behind me,” she said.

  “That’s certainly wise,” he said in a serious tone, reaching out for her hand and placing his on top of it. “Ye’re awfully brave.”

  Her mouth twitched into a hint of a smile, and she let him squeeze her hand for a moment, before moving her arm to reach out for the tea, darting her eyes away. There was something about her reserved nature that made Conall only want her all the more.

 
“So, how’s me little brother holding up then?” he asked.

  “Why not go and see for yourself?” she said cuttingly, “I’m sure he’d appreciate your concern.”

  Ohh, she is a fiery one.

  “Well with ye hogging his attention all the time it’s hard tae get a look in,” he said, trying to disguise the uneasy feeling it gave him to know that she was spending so much time with Marcas.

  What does he have that I don’t? It’s me that has the title, the prowess to defeat her captor, and rescue her once again.

  She blushed at his words, “I’m sure I can let you have some time with him,” she said just as sharply.

  “It’ll give ye some time off,” he said cheekily, “yer almost puttin’ the help oot o’ a job.”

  “I’m just trying to earn my keep,” she threw back.

  “Yer doin’ just fine where I’m sittin’,” he said, giving her an appreciative glance up and down.

  She scoffed like she was offended but he could see she was trying to hide a smile at the compliment before she got up abruptly to leave.

  “I’d best go, Fiona is expecting me,” she blurted out, unconvincingly, before thanking him for the tea and darting out of the room.

  Aha, that got her.

  Soon after, he leaned against the doorframe of Marcas’ bedchamber, taking in the sight of his brother’s unusually pale and peaky demeanor.

  “What have I done tae merit a visit fae the Laird himself?” Marcas called out from across the room.

  “Well ye seemed tae be awful popular, thought I’d see what all the fuss was aboot,” Conall bantered back, coming in to the room and closing the door behind him.

  “Everyone kens good looks an’ charm when they see it,” Marcas joked.

  “Glad tae see ye’ve no' lost yer sense o’ humor brother,” Conall said warmly. “Maybe I should pretend tae have a fever and get all the lasses runnin’ aboot after me and all.”

  “Take mine, I’m aboot done wi’ it,” Marcas said.

  “I heard ye nearly lost a leg,” Conall stated.

  “Aye. The bloody wound was infected and swollen like a hard bawbag,” Marcas confirmed.

  “Aye, no' bad, eh.” Conall complimented. Him and the boys were constantly boasting about who survived the worst injury.

  “I ken,” Marcas agreed.

  “Well seein’ as ye havenae lost yer leg maybe ye can help wi’ a spot o’ business,” Conall suggested.

  “Aye, what is it?” Marcas asked, waiting for Conall’s latest scheme.

  “We’re behind wi’ the rent book. Some o’ our tenants havenae been keeping up wi’ their payments,” Conall explained. “All this business wi’ Georgina and Bolton has taken our eye off the game.” Maybe if I emphasize this then Marcas will stop paying so much attention tae the lass and occupy himself with the affairs of our estate instead. He’s always been the sensible one after all.

  “I wonder what faither did when this happened,” Marcas reflected.

  “I doot it did happen under faither’s reign. I reckon they’re just tryin’ tae pull one over on me, seein’ what they can get away wi’,” Conall spat out.

  “Likely no' Conall. These folk have been rentin’ fae us for years,” Marcas reasoned.

  “Whether they have or no', they still cannae get away wi’ it,” Conall insisted.

  “Let’s give them a bit o’ time,” Marcas suggested, “It was a rough winter for the farms an' they’re likely struggling tae get back on track.”

  “Fine that. We’ll think on it a little while longer, but we need tae let them ken that we’re no oblivious,” Conall said. I’m no' going to look like a pushover.

  “I’ll hopefully have use o’ me leg soon enough. All the fuss Fiona an’ Georgina made aboot getting the doctor in. He said the swelling should go doon and then I’ll be able tae walk on it,” Marcas said.

  “Ach, just get a few drams doon ye, and ye’ll be fine,” Conall teased.

  “Pass the bottle, I’m gaspin’,” Marcas said and smiled.

  “I will as soon as ye get up an’ stop bein’ such a bairn,” Conall goaded.

  “I’ll show ye who’s the bairn once I’m up and on the go,” Marcas said.

  Soon, Conall said goodbye and went back downstairs. It was true he’d not been in to see Marcas since he arrived back at the castle. He’d felt like Marcas’ injury was his fault somehow, that he shouldn’t have allowed him to charge off like that. For all his jokes, seeing his brother bedridden like that was disconcerting, and Conall simply didn’t do guilt. It was a waste of time to worry about things that he couldn’t change.

  Desperate to shrug off this uncomfortable feeling, he bade the lasses a good day and strode off out to call by Alpin for a trip into the village for a bit of fun for a change.

  Chapter 21

  “Your brother is certainly a charmer,” Georgina admitted to Fiona as the pair of them set out for a walk to the village.

  “Which one?” Fiona asked slyly, nudging Georgina in the ribs.

  “I was talking about Conall,” Georgina confirmed.

  “They’re both smitten wi’ ye. Ye’d better choose one o’ them before they end up fightin’ over ye,” Fiona stated in her usual blunt manner.

  “You know it’s Marcas I want to be with,” Georgina exclaimed.

  “Well, why not tell Conall that?” Fiona asked.

  “I….I don’t know,” Georgina hesitated. Why don’t I indeed? Things are just so new between Marcas and I don’t want to spoil things.

  “We’ve only kissed once. It’s just so new I want to keep it between the two of us for now.”

  Fiona’s expression was tight-lipped as she considered her, finally letting out a gust of a sigh. “Ach sorry, I’m just feelin’ like a hopeless case. Here ye are, two eligible fellas after ye and I’ve been smitten wi’ the same man fer years and he barely kens I exist.”

  “Don’t be silly, he clearly knows you exist. He’s just not had the opportunity to see you as marriage material,” Georgina soothed. Am I lying to her saying this over and over again? I feel sure that her and Alpin do belong together but how do we make him see that?

  “But I try so hard to make him happy when I do see him, how can he not notice?” Fiona asked.

  Georgina mulled over her own experiences with men — namely Marcas and Conall. Do I try to say and do the right thing around either of them? No…I suppose I just… say or act instinctively, by what feels right.

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t be trying so hard,” Georgina advised. “Maybe the best course of action is to be aloof, and focus on yourself, show him what he’s missing.”

  “Ye think?” Fiona asked thoughtfully.

  “I’m sure of it. Give him the chance to chase after you for a change. Let him see you having fun without him!” Georgina advised.

  Soon enough they entered the village, their conversation having covered both Marcas and Alpin, with the addition of Conall too. It was a quaint little place, full of trees and stone cottages. There were some children out playing and they passed women hanging out their washing in their gardens.

  Fiona said hello to a few passersby, all seeming friendly and happy to see her.

  “Fine tae see ya, Miss McGowan,” an older gentleman greeted her.

  “Oh, hello Mr. Gruem, nice tae see ye too,” Fiona said politely. “This is me friend Georgina Andrews, she’s up here visiting. Georgina this is Mr. Gruem, chief of the Gruem estate.”

  “How do ye do Miss Andrews,” he took her hand.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Georgina said, bowing her head slightly as she curtseyed.

  “It’s a rather unexpected accent ye’ve got there,” he said with surprise.

  “Och aye, she’s fae doon sooth right enough,” Fiona explained.

  “But I do love it up here,” Georgina emphasized, not wanting him to get suspicious as to what an English girl was doing here.

  “Aye, there’s no place like it,” he agreed warmly. “Well
, I trust I’ll be seeing the both o’ ya at the dance in a few weeks.”

  “The dance?” Fiona asked.

  “Och o’ course, I bumped into Conall no' too long ago and extended an invitation fer all o’ ye. I doubt he’s had the chance tae tell ye yet,” Mr. Gruem explained.

  “That he hasnae, Mr. Gruem,” Fiona agreed.

  “Well I hope ye’ll join the McGowans at my little gathering if yer still here by then, Miss Andrews, ye'd be very welcome,” he said warmly.