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

by Lydia Kendall

  Startled, she whirled around to see his tall, muscular frame standing and watching her, looking even more handsome than she remembered from this morning.

  “Marcas?” she asked, still surprised at his sudden presence.

  “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for ya,” he said, “I was frightened that somebody had gone off wi’ ye again.”

  “Oh, no, I’ve been just fine. This is my favorite spot in the castle grounds to come and sit,” she said, her voice still thick from the onset of emotion she’d felt while writing to her father.

  “What’s the matter, petal?” he asked gently, moving to sit by her, his fingers under her chin as he inspected her facial expression.

  “I’m writing a letter to my father,” she explained. “I guess I feel guilty about how I left him like and I wanted to send word to let him know that I’m fine.”

  “O’ course, he is yer faither after all. I’ll bet that Bolton has twisted the whole thing tae paint us as the villains. Maybe if he kens that ye’re safe, he’ll be able tae stop the worry,” Marcas said.

  “That’s just what I was thinking,” Georgina agreed, leaning in to rest her head on Marcas’ shoulder as he put his arm around her.

  “Any mention o’ a brave, handsome Highlander in there?” he joked.

  “Now that would be telling,” she intoned mysteriously. They shared a laugh before their private moment was interrupted by the sound of Conall approaching.

  “Oi, quit botherin’ the lass. We’ve a meeting to get tae,” Conall called out.

  Marcas quickly moved his arm away from her and shuffled around to face his brother. Georgina sighed. Why can’t we share our love in front of the others? I feel we’re sneaking around and hiding.

  Marcas jumped up at Conall’s command. “Och, I’m botherin’ no-one,” he said.

  Georgina turned to face Conall too. Ηis face was like thunder and she jumped a little, feeling like they were in trouble or something. What on earth has gotten into him?

  “I’d better go, sweetheart,” Marcas leaned down and quickly whispered in her ear, “I’ve likely made us late.” He straightened up again and was at his brother’s side in moments. “Let’s go then.”

  He turned back and gave Georgina a wave as he hurried to catch up with Conall, who was already stomping off back in the direction of the castle, leaving Georgina alone once more.

  Perhaps he doesn’t want to be seen with me in that way. Is he ashamed? Or is it merely improper as we are not married?

  Chapter 22

  All Marcas wanted to do was spend time with Georgina, but in the coming days, he was required to be by his brother’s side almost constantly. It was clear that they needed to be gearing up for battle soon. They’d been expecting it ever since the night of the Earl of Aylesford’s wedding when Conall had made a direct move against the Army officer by making off with Georgina right in from of him.

  They were journeying through the parish and beyond, gathering men and preparing their army for an onslaught from the English in the coming weeks.

  “What will we do aboot the women?” Marcas asked, as they and Alpin, stocked up on oats, cheese, and dried meats from the village. His primary concern was keeping Georgina and Fiona safe, as they were sure to be a target up at the castle.

  “Aye, they’re sittin’ ducks up at Carnarvan,” Alpin agreed, “why don’t we have them stay at my hoose. That way, if anybody does ambush the castle, they won’t find them.”

  “That’s a fine idea,” Marcas agreed, slapping his friend on the back.

  “I suppose that’s an option,” Conall said grudgingly, likely grumbling because it wasn’t his idea.

  Ever since Conall had interrupted Marcas and Georgina sitting together in the garden that day, things had been tense between the two brothers.

  Conall always has tae get his way. Whatever I want, he has tae have it. Well no' this time.

  “It’s our best option,” Marcas snapped back.

  “Fine, I’ll make sure they’re kept an eye on in the meantime, in case Bolton takes a notion tae play dirty,” Conall said.

  “I’m sure I can manage,” Marcas argued, trying to keep his tone cool. Why does Conall insist on jumping in to make sure he’s always the hero?

  “Christ, will the pair o’ ye put yer swords away? I’ll deal wi’ the women if it’s gonnae cause this much bickering,” Alpin interjected.

  Marcas bristled slightly at this but nodded. He must be right sick of the pair o’ us at the moment tryin’ tae outdo each other fer Georgina’s attention.

  He’d made the mistake of admitting to his brother that he was escorting Georgina to the gathering, and Conall had been a sulky git towards him ever since. Hell, it’s just like we’re kids again and fightin’ over a toy. I wish I’d just kept it tae meself.

  They’d almost finished their errands in the village when they caught sight of Fiona and Georgina, walking arm in arm and giggling away, their faces flushed and their expressions giddy. Ach, the lass fits in right well. If I ask her tae marry me, then she’ll be a fine sister fer Fiona.

  Marcas felt a flutter of happiness for his sister. After losing Alpin’s brother and his wife, she’d not really had a close friend since. The way her eyes lit up in Alpin’s presence, it was obvious to Marcas that she was carrying a torch for him. He just wished that Alpin wasn’t such a dunderhead that he could finally notice what was right in front of him.

  “Aye, aye,” Conall called out to them as they approached, his voice tinged with cheekiness. “I sense trouble.”

  “Och, hald yer wheest, Conall,” Fiona said breezily, her eyes flicking to Alpin and back. Georgina smiled at Marcas, a blush creeping into her cheeks as she glanced at Conall, her expression betraying guilt as she darted her eyes away from him.

  “What are the pair o’ ye up tae then?” Alpin asked, probably sensing the tension and wanting to take charge of the situation.

  “Oh, we’re visiting the seamstress. We do have a gathering to get ready for after all,” Georgina said suggestively, slipping Marcas another warm smile.

  “Ach o’ course. Wait, if yer goin’ wi’ Marcas, Fiona why don’t me an’ ye go together?” Alpin asked as if the idea had only just occurred to him.

  “Ahem, it’s rather late to be offering to be her escort don’t you think?” Georgina scolded before Fiona could get a chance to say anything.

  “Aye, the gathering is tomorrow night an’ all, ye bampot,” Conall jumped in, punching Alpin on the arm good naturedly. “The pair o’ us will hae tae go solo.”

  Alpin looked at a loss of what to say next; clearly, he’d not been expecting such a response.

  “Well, we’d best be off, we’ve got much to prepare,” Georgina said pointedly, linking her arm through Fiona’s and slowly dragging her away down the street.

  “Ye’d best save me a dance, lass, even if ye did reject my offer tae escort ye,” Conall called out after her.

  His offer tae escort her? Marcas felt a sharp jolt of anger at these words, knowing that Conall was actively trying to pursue Georgina.

  “Ach, dinnae get yer knickers in a twist man,” Alpin said quietly in Marcas’ ear, “yer the one she said yes tae.”

  Alpin’s right. I am the one she agreed tae go to the gathering wi’. Conall’s just tryin’ tae wind me up. Well, he can get tae bloody hell. Georgina and I belong together an’ I’m no gonnae let his antics ruin that.

  He followed Alpin and Conall as they headed back up the hill towards the castle, determined not to let his brother get to him. We’ll be leaving for battle soon enough anyway, what’s the use in stirring up bad feelings amongst that?

  “Ach well, it’ll be one last night o’ fun before we’re tae head off intae battle,” Marcas said.

  “Aye right, I plan on makin’ the most o’ it anyway,” Alpin responded suggestively.

  “I’m wi’ ye there, lad, all we need tae do is whisper tae the lasses that we’re leavin’ fer battle an’ they’ll open their legs righ
t there and then,” Conall joked.

  “Aye indeed,” Alpin laughed along, but his tone suggested that he wasn’t quite on board with the womanizing, as usual. “Or maybe we’ll find a decent enough lass tae settle doon wi’ once we’re home fae battle.”

  “Aye right, ye settle doon. That’ll be the day,” Conall laughed.

  “Ye never know. I might surprise ye one o’ these days,” Alpin replied, his tone light-hearted.

  “Don’t ye be turnin’ soft on me like Marcas here,” Conall said.

  “I dinnae ken what’s soft aboot findin’ a good lass, Conall,” Marcas quipped, “Ye widnae ken what tae do wi’ one anyway.”

  “Aye I would, get her intae bed, show her a good time an’ if she peaks me interest enough, maybe go fer a second time,” Conall boasted like he was above the idea of forming a lasting connection.

  Marcas shook his head indulgently, “that’s if she’s satisfied enough fer a second time,” he jibed.

  “Says ye who’s still no’ managed tae bed the English filly,” Conall threw back.

  “Who says I havenae?” Marcas asked defensively.

  “Coz she’s all over ye like a dog in heat,” Conall said cuttingly.

  “Come on Conall, that’s enough,” Marcas snapped, not standing for Georgina being talked about like that. “Besides, great things cannae be rushed.”

  Soon enough, Alpin cut in to stop Marcas and Conall from tearing each other’s throats out and directed the conversation back to practical duties. Conall had men stationed out down towards the lowlands in prime vantage points to clock in any incoming English invaders. There were other lookouts right down at the borders, positioned to send word as soon as they saw the army coming their way.

  Marcas felt ready to face their enemies. His love for Georgina had sparked a new fire within him, a determination to fight their enemies so that he could return home and marry her. He wanted to prove himself as a strong, capable man, that he had the makings of a leader.

  Then he’d face the true challenge of appealing to Georgina’s father to ask for her hand in marriage.

  Chapter 23

  The evening of the gathering was finally here, much to Georgina and Fiona’s delight. Georgina was filled with excitement at the prospect of her first public appearance with Marcas. Her time in the area had mostly been spent within the castle, with the exception of a couple of trips to the village with Fiona, so this was something new.

  She was a little nervous about being the only English person in a room full of Scots, worried that she would raise eyebrows with her presence, but Fiona assured her she had nothing to be anxious about. “Once they see ye’re with us, ye’ll be treated just like one o’ their own,” she’d insisted.

  As they got ready, they discussed their strategy for finally drawing Alpin’s attention to Fiona, pretty much repeating the previous day’s conversation.

  “Well, we showed him!” Georgina had said with glee, as she and Fiona hurried away from the guys.

  “Either that or ye just blew my chance wi’ him,” Fiona retorted, her face in a pout.

  “No, no, did you not see his face? We had to let him know that you’re not just sitting around waiting for him to click his fingers. Now he’s going off and rethinking everything,” she explained. “He cannot ask you to a gathering the day before, it’s simply improper.” Honestly, it’s like I’m teaching manners as a second language at times.

  “Ach I suppose he did look a bit foxed right enough,” Fiona said grudgingly. “Oh, do ye really think this’ll work?”

  “I’m certain of it,” Georgina confirmed, turning to look at her friend’s anxious face. “Tomorrow, he will be desperate to make up for his lack of consideration, and once he sees you dressed in all your finery, enjoying yourself like you don’t have a care in the world, he’ll be tripping over himself to get you on the dance floor.”

  “Ye’re such a good friend, Georgina, I do hope that ye’re right. I’ve been waiting for him to notice me for so long,” Fiona said with anguish.

  I do hope I’m right too, for Fiona’s sake. That Alpin just needs a good kick to set his sights straight.

  “You’ve been the dearest of friends to me, Fiona, so it’s the least I can do,” Georgina said. “Besides, I’ll have the opportunity to pick Marcas’ brain about Alpin and what he thinks about you.”

  After Georgina soothed Fiona’s last-minute worries, she looked at herself in the glass, smoothing down her gown and replaying in her mind the first moment that she’d laid eyes on Marcas. I was wearing this very dress. I wonder if he’ll remember?

  “Ye ready?” Fiona asked. Georgina nodded, and they descended the stairs together.

  Georgina’s heart fluttered as she saw Marcas waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. He was dressed in a kilt with a smart shirt and overcoat, wearing his usual smile which burst with warmth as he laid eyes on her.

  As she approached him, he held out his arm for her to take it. “Ye look beautiful, Georgina,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

  “You look mighty fine yourself,” she replied daringly. They shared a private smile before Marcas turned to acknowledge Fiona.

  “Well noo, ye’ve managed tae scrub up well,” he teased. “I see Georgina’s worked her magic on ye.”

  “Oh, ha ha,” Fiona responded. “I see even ye’ve scrubbed the dirt oot fae under yer nails and all,” she bantered back.

  “Och aye, I cannae be turnin’ up tae Mr. Gruem’s wee dance like a common farm boy,” Marcas joked.

  They set off for the village as soon as the carriage arrived. Marcas explained that he wouldn’t usually bother with such frivolity, but seeing as it was a formal occasion, he wanted to ensure Georgina could enjoy it with style.

  Thankfully, Conall was nowhere in sight. Presumably, he and Alpin would both be going solo and were no doubt up to mischief together. Thank goodness. If he makes one more suggestive comment towards me, then I’m going to tell him to leave me alone, once and for all. It’s Marcas I love after all. Surely, he can be happy for his own brother.

  Soon they arrived at the Gruem estate and Georgina relaxed into the evening. Marcas exited the carriage first, holding out his hand to take hers and help her down. Oh, he looks so handsome dressed in his kilt.

  They walked in together, her arm in his and were greeted warmly by Mr. Gruem, who was positively delighted to see them.

  “Oh, ho! Miss Andrews, Marcas, fine tae see ya both,” he announced jovially, shaking Marcas’ hand and taking Georgina’s delicately.

  “Evenin’, Mr. Gruem,” Marcas greeted. “It’s a fine spread ye’ve put on.”

  “Ach aye. As I hear, many o’ ye young men will be chargin’ off tae show the English what yer made o’ soon. I thought I’d throw a bit o’ a dance in honor o’ ye all,” Mr. Gruem said encouragingly.

  “Well that’s right generous o’ ye, I’ll be sure tae raise a glass tae ye later in the night,” Marcas said with a respectful bow.

  “Ach, it's no bother, lad. I’ll leave the pair o’ ye be, the dancin’ is aboot tae start,” Mr. Gruem said. He smiled and strode off to greet the other locals in the room.

  Georgina turned to face Marcas, her blood running cold all of a sudden, “what did he mean about you going off to face the English?” she demanded.

  Marcas sighed, taking her hands in his and lowering his regretful eyes to meet her glare. “I’m afraid there’s tae be a battle. Conall, Alpin and I will be goin’ off tae fight. It’s our duty tae our land and tae our fellow men,” he said solemnly.

  “I simply can’t believe this,” Georgina was gobsmacked. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I wanted us tae have a real night oot together, tae enjoy the dance before I told ye,” Marcas admitted. “But let’s no' let this ruin the night, the band is gettin’ started and ye’ll have tae pay attention tae learn the steps.” His tone was teasing towards the end and she bristled.

  “Huh, you think I cannot danc
e?” she joked back, trying not to let the bombshell of an oncoming battle overcome her, “My dancing skills are impeccable I’ll have you know.”

  “That might be so, but ye’ve yet tae learn Scottish dancing,” Marcas hinted.

  Their conversation was cut off as the sound of bagpipes began to fill the room. It was music like nothing Georgina had heard before, although Fiona had explained to her what to expect, it was still a welcomed surprise.

  She watched as the man kilted out in tartan held the strange- looking instrument over one shoulder. It looked like a tartan patterned bag with several pipes spiking out from it, the smallest one positioned in the man’s mouth where his cheeks puffed in and as he blew air into it. She couldn’t help but laugh out loud in delight.