Highlander’s Unexpected Love: A Medieval Scottish Historical Highland Romance Book

by Adams, Alisa

  She was glad to get back to the castle in the afternoon until she read the letter on her bedside table. At once there was a lump in her throat and tears began to leak down her face. Heather sounded so happy and so desperately in love that she could not but wish her well, despite being left to cope on her own in a very stressful situation. It was a miracle that two people who had disliked each other as much as Bruce and Jessica had could suddenly fall in love, but then, hate was just the other side of love, so it was said.

  She wondered if Katrine had had the same sort of letter. When she walked into the large parlor she saw that she had. Katrine's face was scrubbed raw and red from crying and there was an empty glass and a half-empty decanter beside her.

  "Are you all right, milady?" Jessica asked anxiously.

  Katrine looked up. Her eyes were swollen with weeping and her expression was something between anger and sadness. Katrine shook her head.

  "Do you know what she has done, Jessica?" Her voice was gritty with rage. "She has gone and married the blacksmith. The blacksmith! That filthy dirty lout of a man who spends his days covered in coal dust."

  "He earns an honest living, milady," she pointed out.

  Katrine stirred restlessly. "Her father will have nothing more to do with her," she said angrily, "but I-I cannot let go of my beautiful daughter. He has taken advantage of her. She is beautiful and rich—"

  "Not anymore, milady," Jessica pointed out, "she only has her jewelry and that will not last long. She will have to work."

  "My daughter never had these stupid ideas before she started this school!" Katrine got up and paced the room in frustration. "Her father has disowned her, but I cannot. She is still my lovely girl. James has gone to try to find her and bring her back."

  "I hope he succeeds, milady," she said quietly, "I miss her very much."

  Katrine smiled. "You're a sweet lass," she said warmly, "if only you had been my daughter too."

  "Thank you, milady," she replied, "I need to lie down for a while. I am very tired. Please call me if you need me for anything."

  "I will," Katrine said softly, "I feel better already just by speaking to you."

  "I am so glad, milady," Jessica smiled, then she closed the door and went out.

  33

  The Ceilidh and the Blacksmith

  Dougie, as he had admitted, was not a great dancer, but neither was Jessica. After much stumbling and playful cursing, Dougie took her off the dance floor by sweeping her off her feet and escorting her off to the side.

  "We are not very popular," Jessica commented. The Eightsome Reel was a dance in which eight people danced in a circle and it did not work well with only six.

  Dougie laughed. "I am sure they will recover," he observed, "it's no a matter o' life an' death!"

  Jessica was wearing the green linen dress that complemented her fine eyes and Dougie felt like the luckiest man in the room—she was so beautiful.

  "Will I see ye at church on Sunday?" he asked hopefully.

  "I don't go every week, but if I'm there you will," she replied, "but doesn't the castle have its own minister?"

  "He has tae go between three castles an doesnae always make it in time for me tae go," he replied. He paused for a moment then said shyly: "Jessica - if there's naebody else, wid ye let me walk oot wi' ye sometimes?"

  She smiled warmly at him. "Of course, I will, Dougie," she answered, "and there's nobody else."

  "I thought maybe James—" he began, but she cut him off.

  "And what would I do with a Laird's son?" she said scathingly. "A Laird and a schoolteacher are not a good fit!"

  "I'm happy you feel that way," his amber eyes gazed into hers for a moment, and she put up her finger to touch his eyelashes.

  "What?" he asked, puzzled.

  "It's not fair that men should have such long lashes—they look so much better on ladies!"

  They sat down and watched the dancing for a while, and when Dougie's hand crept into Jessica's she did not pull it away but closed her fingers around it. They looked at each other in a moment of perfect understanding. Across the room, Sadie and John were watching contentedly.

  "She's got him twisted roon her wee finger," Sadie said, laughing.

  "Aye," John agreed, "an he's lovin' it!"

  Presently, the music stopped as the Laird Jamieson came in. He had recovered all the weight he had lost under his good eating regime and now looked plumper than ever. Jessica could not imagine how she could ever have thought him handsome, and silently congratulated Heather on a lucky escape!

  "Ladies and gentlemen!" He called out, "may I have your attention, please? It is my pleasure to present my bride-to-be, Miss Arlene McKenzie, soon to be Mistress Jamieson!"

  There was a general cheer and as the Laird walked around he was slapped on the back many times by good-humored well-wishers. He did not seem to be enjoying it very much but pinned a genial smile on his face anyway.

  His fiancée was a small, plump dark woman who smiled pleasantly at everyone and said absolutely nothing. She looked up at Kenneth adoringly from time to time and Jessica suspected that Kenneth had got just what he wanted—a doormat.

  Presently, the Laird came to face them and said, "Ah, McFarlane! And Miss Farquhar! It is good to see you! Are you two walking out together?"

  "We are," Jessica said quickly before Dougie could hesitate. She gave a small curtsey. "Congratulations, m'laird, mistress."

  Dougie gave them a swift bow before they moved on.

  "I wish I could work for someone else," Dougie said wearily.

  "Why?" she asked, surprised.

  "He is so full of himself!" Dougie said in exasperation.

  "All Lairds are like that," she laughed, "but maybe you will marry a ‘Lady Bountiful’ one day!"

  I'd rather marry you, he thought dreamily.

  * * *

  "I will see you at church on Sunday," he said at the end of the evening. She was climbing into the farmer's cart that would take her back to Castle McVey.

  "I will be there," she assured him, smiling.

  "Goodnight, Jessica," he leaned over and placed another kiss on her cheek.

  "I had a lovely time," she told him, "thank you for inviting me, Dougie, but I think I should take dancing lessons before we do this again."

  "We should!" He laughed.

  James arrived in Dundee a week later, tired from his journey but excited at the thought of seeing his sister again. He asked for directions from a few local people before he found the house, a low gray granite building with a tiled roof and a small garden in which assorted vegetables were growing.

  It was four o'clock in the afternoon, almost dark, and James judged that Heather should be at home now. He knocked with the big brass ring on the door and Heather answered. She looked exactly the same, except that there was a bloom in her cheeks that had not been there before, and the navy-blue dress she was wearing was severely plain and practical. She looked happy, he thought. No, she looked radiant. Marriage obviously suited her.

  When Heather opened the door and saw James her heart nearly stopped. He was the person she wanted to see most after Bruce but the last one she had expected to see. She felt herself flood with joy.

  "James - oh, James - I am so glad to see you!" She hugged him and kissed his cheek, then he laughed and held her away a little to look at her.

  "Heather - you look - enchanting!" He smiled warmly at her. "Are you perhaps—"

  "With child?" she supplied, then sighed. "No, sadly. Not yet, but there is time. How are Mother and Father? Are they very angry?"

  "I think it is fair to say that Father is consumed with rage," James replied heavily, " Mother is sad, but Heather, I have bad news for you."

  She went white. "Is it Mother? Father? Jessica?" There was panic in her voice and her eyes were wide and frightened.

  He shook his head. "Nothing like that," he assured her, "but Heather, Father has disinherited you."

  Heather breathed a sigh of relief. "Is that
all?" She laughed, "well, the castle and the estate are yours anyway. All I get is Mother's jewelry, a little lump sum, and an allowance. Don't worry, James, I can live without it."

  "There's one more thing," James said grimly, suddenly chilled to the bone, "Heather, Father has disowned you." He stood up and went to the fire, spreading out his hands to its warmth. "He says you are dead to him now. I am sorry."

  Heather was stunned. She had expected anger - but not this outright rejection. And all this for marrying Bruce. There was a simmering cauldron of anger filling up within her.

  "Was this because I married someone unsuitable?"

  James turned and looked at her. "Heather," he said patiently, "you have no idea what this has done to them. Mother is a nervous wreck and Father is in a constant rage. I understand that you married for love, but could you not have chosen a-a schoolteacher or shopkeeper—anything but a blacksmith!"

  James had his face to the fire and his back to the door, so when Bruce came in quietly he was not aware of it until he turned around.

  "An' good day tae you too," Bruce said. His words were prosaic, but his expression and tone were menacing. He bent down to kiss Heather then returned his gaze to James.

  "I'm sorry," James said awkwardly, "I didn't mean to be insulting."

  "Aye ye did," Bruce stepped towards him. He was a big man, but in the confines of the small room, he looked even bigger. "I knaw exactly whit ye meant!"

  James said nothing.

  "You in yer big castle look doon on us folk that work an' keep you a' in comfort!" He was practically snarling at James now, but James stood his ground, apparently calm although he was quaking inside. "An' ye look doon on me because I'm only a blacksmith! Well, James McVey, were you no' the ane that wanted tae learn my trade a while ago, but it was jist fur a wee bit o' fun, wis it no'? For why did ye go an' dae a' that diggin' an' buildin' if ye were gaunnae look doon on me? The lowest o' the low, am I? Well, yer sister disnae think so! I am jist a man an' she is jist a woman an' I love her with a' my heart. So, what is wrang wi' me?"

  He stopped suddenly and Heather went up and put her arms around him. He looked at James over the top of Heather's head, his anger draining away. All that mattered was Heather and to hell with the rest of them. Heather turned around in Bruce's arms until she was facing James.

  "This man," she said evenly, "is the love of my life. I would kill for him and I would die for him. I want you to say sorry to him."

  "There is nothing wrong with you, Bruce," he said heavily, "but you should not have married my sister."

  Bruce's expression was venomous, but he stayed silent with a great effort of will. He looked as if he might commit murder. Heather waited a moment, then she and Bruce went into the kitchen. A few seconds later he heard her weeping. He sat down and put his head in his hands. He could respect other working men, but none of them had dared to jump up the social ladder and marry a noblewoman.

  A moment later Bruce came back in and said politely but frostily "Heather has made ye some tea. Please, sir." His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Drink it for her sake." Then he leaned close to James' ear. "An' I hope it chokes ye!" he hissed.

  He marched out of the room then went outside, and a moment later James heard the sound of chopping as Bruce prepared firewood for the evening. He's imagining it's my head, James thought. Just then, Heather came in with his tea and a plate of shortbread.

  "I made this myself," she said, with false brightness, "so I hope it's up to Mistress Caldwell's standards."

  James bit into the shortbread just to please her because the last thing he felt like doing was eating. It was surprisingly good.

  "Hmm… This is nice," he said appreciatively, "where did you learn this?"

  "The cook in the house where I work," she answered, "but James, you must find yourself an inn to stay in tonight. I will handle Bruce and hopefully, he will have calmed down in the morning."

  "I am sorry, Heather," he said softly, "I work with ordinary people and I have the highest respect for them, but I would never marry one. We must stick to our own level in life. Nobles marry nobles and workers marry workers, otherwise, society would not be ordered and safe."

  Heather put her hands over her eyes. "Tomorrow is Saturday and I will be at home." She stood up, and James knew that he was being dismissed. "Bruce will not be here, so come around after nine and we will talk."

  James nodded. "He is good to you, isn't he, Heather?" His tone was anxious. "He treats you well?"

  Heather's face lit up. "Oh, James, he worships me." She breathed. "He is such a tender man—so loving. I could not wish for a better husband."

  "In spite of everything, I am happy for you. And now I must go," he kissed her cheek and hugged her quickly, "I'll see you tomorrow, Heather."

  "Stay at The White Heather Inn," she advised him. "It's a pleasant place."

  White heather was supposed to be lucky. Lucky Heather—he hoped so.

  Nothing James had seen or heard so far had endeared him to Bruce, but he realized was going to have to judge him by a different standard to everyone else. Whether he liked it or not, they were now related as brothers-in-law and he had to accept it. He would need to take some sort of report back to his parents so he hoped that he could find something good in the man. He had to.

  34

  Discussions

  James went early to Heather's house. He had been thinking and worrying through the night, trying to understand why Heather would do what she had done. He had stabled his horse at the inn and come on foot so that he could see Bruce leaving for work and make sure that he had gone. He hid behind a stand of trees till the door opened and he came out.

  He was a different man when he was with Heather. He stroked her cheek gently and folded her into his arms then kissed her head. Heather was laughing softly at something he had said, looking up into his face. Her eyes were shining. When he left, he blew her a kiss and she waved him goodbye then hugged herself, smiling. He had never seen her look like that before. She stood looking into the spring sky for a while, watching clouds scudding across it. There was a stiff breeze blowing in from the sea, and presently she turned to go inside.

  James stepped out of the trees.

  "James!" she cried, startled. "I didn't know you were there. Come in and have tea. You can risk another one of my scones, can you not?"

  She laughed, and he joined in. Her joyful mood was infectious, and soon James felt calmer. He broached the subject of Bruce tentatively.

  "Forgive me, Heather," he began, "but I thought you and Bruce hated each other."

  She looked into the fire for a while, lost in her own thoughts. "We did at the beginning," she replied, "he hated me because he missed the moment of his wife's death and I hated him because he was arrogant. I thought he had no right to be angry with me because he was only a peasant. Two people who dislike each other like that—they are sometimes hiding other feelings behind a mask without even realizing it. Bruce said that you told him that."

  "I did," James said, "I noticed it, and so did Jessica. She's very perceptive."

  "Hmm… They tell me I am too," she told him, "I can see that you have a big crush on Jessica!"

  James smiled ruefully. "Sadly, she does not have a crush on me," he complained, "when I broached the subject very tentatively I got a most forthright 'no'. Anyway, a Laird cannot—"

  "Court a middle-class lady?" Heather finished for him. "James, if I ever tried to get back into what is laughingly called 'polite society,' I would be shunned. Bruce would be humiliated. I do not want or need the approval of people like that, people who only judge you by how much money you have or how much property you own. At least I am honest enough to say 'I love this man and if you disapprove then that is your affair.' I am not rich anymore, James, but no amount of money can buy the happiness I feel. We have enough to live on quite comfortably with a little bit left over for nice things. We are content."

  "I can see that you are, sister," he said warmly, "and I make
this vow to you now: if anything should ever happen to Bruce I will look after you. I will apologize to him, for who am I to judge a man badly who is so devoted to my only sister whom I also love?"

  "Thank you, James," she said softly, then she slapped her thighs and stood up. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

  "No," he replied, "are you going to cook for me?"

  She paused. "Scared?" she asked mischievously.

  "No," he laughed, "just ready for a new experience."

  Heather cooked them kippers rolled in oatmeal with scrambled eggs and homemade bannocks. James made it disappear very fast and asked for a second helping, which delighted Heather.

  "Must be the sea air," James said, laughing, "I have never eaten anything so delicious! Heather, you are becoming an excellent cook."

  "I get a lot of help," she confessed, "and Bruce cooks too."

  "A man?" James was astounded. "Cooking?"

  "Yes," she replied, "and he is very good at it. When he comes home he sometimes cooks our supper."

  "Surely he's too tired!"

  Heather looked at him with a strange sideways glance. "James, you need to live in the real world for a while," she told him patiently, "Bruce's work now is not half so strenuous as it was in Invergar. He doesn't lift the feet of one-ton carthorses, nor repair plows. He serves customers in a shop mainly, and he does not faint into bed as he told me he used to. Life has changed."

  James sipped his tea thoughtfully, thinking about how much he needed to learn about the lives of ordinary people. "But I have worked with ordinary people. Good people," he protested.

  "The difference is that you can go home to a castle," Heather reminded him, "and you never go hungry."

  James finished his tea and nodded slowly. "We have led a comfortable life," he confessed, "but now that I have a brother-in-law who understands these things maybe I can begin to appreciate how much I have and how much I need to share it."

  "Good," she smiled and kissed him, "I'm so glad you're here, James." She went away to wash the dishes leaving James to think about what she had said.