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

by Adams, Alisa

  He made no answer, but went to the door and opened it. Katrine took one look at her daughter's face then rushed forward to meet her. At the same time Heather put her arms out and they fell into each other’s embrace. Katrine had never been so glad to see anyone in her whole life. She covered Heather's face with kisses then burst into tears and cried on her shoulder. Heather held onto her, weeping herself now, till gradually she calmed down. Katrine held her daughter at arms' length to look at her. She took in the bloom in her cheeks and her shining eyes.

  "My God, Heather, you look beautiful!"

  "I feel beautiful, Mother," she replied, "and it's all because of my husband."

  She stood aside to indicate Bruce. He bowed. "Pleased to make your acquaintance milady," he said, smiling.

  Katrine was immediately captivated and gave him her hand to kiss, which he did, then looked down at her. She had to tilt her head back quite a bit to meet his silver-gray eyes, but when she did it was as though every reason she had to dislike him melted away. She smiled at him radiantly.

  "I have seen you around the village, of course," she said, "but I never realized how handsome you were!"

  "That's very kind of you, milady," he said appreciatively, "thank you."

  Katrine stood gazing at him for a long moment as if in a trance, then she blinked and said abruptly, "Would anyone like tea? Ale? Whiskey?"

  "Just tea, Mother," Heather replied. She was quite taken aback by her mother's reaction to Bruce. She looked at him with a question in her eyes and he gave a little shrug as if to say 'can I help it if I'm gorgeous?'

  Katrine was rather astonished herself, but she could sense something good, something wholesome about him. Physical beauty was one thing, but a good heart was another. Heather looked absolutely radiant, happy and in love, and Bruce gave away his feelings every time he looked at her.

  "Bruce," she said brightly, "did you pass our new blacksmith on the way in?"

  Bruce frowned. "Aye, Milady - an' I'm no impressed!" He seemed to want to go on, then stopped himself.

  "What were you going to say?" Katrine asked.

  "It is no' very charitable milady!"

  "Go on, I don't mind," she laughed.

  Bruce took a deep breath. "I dinnae knaw if he's good at whit he does, Milady," he said grimly, "but I didnae leave the forge in yon state!"

  "Then you should not have left," Katrine said, "we needed a blacksmith and he was the only one who applied for the job."

  "Aye, I'll no quarrel wi' that," Bruce replied, "but if I hadnae left I couldnae hae married Heather."

  "You love my daughter?" Katrine asked.

  "I would gie my life for her."

  Heather leaned her head on his shoulder. "And I would do the same for him," she said, and there was a warning note in her voice.

  "Why did you have to run away?" Katrine asked sadly, "I was so angry, then sad, then desperately worried. I am so glad you're safe, Heather," then she looked at Bruce again. "For my part, Bruce, I welcome you to the family. But I cannot speak for my husband."

  "Thank you, milady," he answered, "he can only go where his heart leads him. We will no' be stayin' here onyway."

  "No, Mother," Heather agreed, "we will stay on in Dundee for the time being then we may move somewhere else—who knows?"

  The tea was brought in and Katrine was silent as she poured it out for them. "What if you have children?" she asked evenly.

  "No doubt we will," Heather said calmly, "but if Father wants nothing to do with them then that is his loss."

  "They will still have an Uncle James," James said stoutly, "because I would love to have nephews and nieces!"

  "And a grandmother," Katrine agreed. "What of your family, Bruce?"

  "There is none apart fae my mither an' stepfaither, milady," his voice was very matter-of-fact. "I am a foundling. I wis left on the church steps when I wis a few hours old and found by the Minister's wife. She took me to Senga. There wis a woman there who had jist given birth tae a stillborn babe and she is now my mother. I may be royalty for a' I knaw!" He laughed, somewhat sadly.

  Katrine looked at him with her still, piercing gaze, the corners of her mouth twitching up. "What a fascinating story!" she said incredulously, "you have no idea at all?

  Bruce shook his head. "My mother is the maist wonderful woman ever born—except for my Heather, of course!" He kissed her cheek. "And I am fortunate indeed that she found me. My faither died a wee while ago and my Ma has remarried and gone to live in Dunbairn."

  James had been looking out of the window. "Brace yourself," he said grimly, "here comes Father."

  "Dinnae worry," Bruce whispered to Heather, "I'll be good."

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and he smiled at her. Nothing could harm them when they were together.

  37

  Bruce, the Laird, and the Lady

  When the Laird entered the room, he found himself staring straight at Heather. He froze for a moment, but she smiled at him.

  "Hello, Father," she said, "how are you? I've missed you."

  "Have you indeed?" the Laird growled between gritted teeth. "Get out of here you little bitch, before I throw you out!"

  Bruce stood up and stationed himself between Heather and the Laird. "Ye'll have tae get through me first, m'laird," he said calmly, and crossed his arms over his chest. "An' between you an' me, I dinnae fancy yer chances!"

  The Laird stared at Bruce for a long moment then went to pour himself a whiskey. "Be out of this castle before I finish this drink or I will call the guards," his tone was menacing, "you may be a big man, but you are not big enough for half a dozen at once."

  "Do that Father," Heather said mildly, "and I will never speak to you again. There is nothing that I need from you."

  "You are already dead to me." He looked at her with scorn in his eyes. "Go, if you are going, and take your filthy lout of a husband with you."

  Bruce advanced on the Laird, stopping inches away from him. "Out of respect for your family, Laird," he said evenly, "I willnae strike ye, but if I hear ye calling me anythin' like that ever again I will flatten ye."

  The Laird said nothing more, but his wife did.

  "If you send Heather away," Katrine warned, "I will go too. And I am not making an idle threat, Gordon. I have a family I can live with, and a settlement of my own. You will not send my daughter away because you are not convinced of the worth of her husband. She is still your daughter."

  The Laird had paled, and he stared his wife, aghast as the import of her words sank in. "You are bluffing," he said, with a nervous laugh.

  Katrine stood up, crossed her arms and tilted her chin. Her eyes bored into her husband's. "Try me," she said, "throw me out if you want. Heather and Bruce will give me a place to live if my family disowns me too, but I doubt they will."

  "Aye, we will," Bruce put a protective arm around his mother-in-law.

  "But remember," Katrine said warningly, "I have secrets you may want to stay hidden, Gordon."

  The Laird froze. "You wouldn't dare!" His face was suddenly ashen pale.

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  He slumped, defeated, and put his head in his hands. "Do as you please," he said numbly, then got up and went to bed.

  "Phew!" Heather leaned against Bruce, "I think we did quite well. Mother, what secrets?"

  "The ones I'm not going to tell you about," Katrine said grimly, then she sat down heavily on a couch.

  Heather and James went to sit on either side of her and Bruce poured her a sherry. She looked up at him gratefully.

  "Thank you, Bruce," she sipped it, "I never want to go through that again."

  James put his arm around Katrine while Heather rested her left hand on both of her mother's.

  "I think we have calmed the waters for the moment," Katrine said, her voice trembling a little, "but there is still a lot of talking to be done between your father and me. Now, if you don't mind, my dears, I am going to take a draught of willow bark tea for my heada
che and lie down for a while." She went up to Bruce. "My goodness, you are tall!"

  "I am sorry, milady," he apologized, looking comically ashamed. "I will try tae shrink a wee bit."

  Katrine giggled. "Don't you dare!" She looked at him fondly for a long moment. "I think I'm going to like you." She smiled. "Can you bear to call me Mother?"

  Bruce's eyes widened. "I think so," he replied, "but I cannae dae it in yon posh voice o' yours."

  "Just say it."

  "Mother," he said, grinning.

  She gave him a smile and a quick hug then left. As soon as the door closed behind her Heather gave a great whoop of joy.

  "You completely bewitched her!" she cried to Bruce.

  He laughed. “She’s a lovely woman." He went up to Heather and put his arms around her waist. "Jist like her daughter."

  James cleared his throat, clearly wanting to be included in the conversation. "Do you not think you should go and see Jessica?" he suggested, "she has missed you, I'm sure."

  "Of course, I will." She smiled at both men. "Can you two boys amuse yourself till I get back?"

  Bruce frowned. "I want tae see the forge," he said grimly, "God knaws whit yon eejit's been daein' tae it!"

  James really wanted to see Jessica too, but could not appear to be too eager. "I will go with Bruce," he said, "I am also curious. I want to know where they got this character from!"

  They went their separate ways, and as Heather went down the road to the new school she was greeted over and over again by villagers who were ecstatic to see her return to them. Heather was glad too, not having realized how much she had missed her home.

  "Congratulations, milady!" they shouted. "Bless ye, Milady! We wish ye a' the best!"

  Heather laughed as she walked along. It was beginning to rain mistily, but nothing could dampen her spirits as she walked down to the new schoolhouse and entered the front door. She had seen it when it was first built, but now that it was finished she was amazed. The space inside had been divided into two big rooms, one for the younger children and one for the older.

  There were proper desks, bookshelves, a blackboard in each room, and a slate at every table. The corridor between the two rooms led to two smaller ones at the back, one of which was a staff room for the teacher’s administrative work, with two chairs where they could sit in break time, the other a storeroom containing teaching and cleaning materials.

  Heather was very impressed with what they had done to the inside of the structure since the last time she had seen it. There were bowls of wildflowers on the teachers' desks and the windowsills, giving the whole place a homely, well-loved feel. She felt tears pricking her eyes. She should have been here to see all this happening. The school, in its lofty position beside the church, commanded a fine view of the other side of the valley, the one on the opposite side from the blacksmith's forge.

  Heather looked down the green hill with sheep gazing tranquilly on its slopes till it disappeared into mist at the bottom. She sighed deeply. What a beautiful place this was and how little she had appreciated it!

  Just then, she heard a sound behind her like someone bumping against one of the desks. She spun around, and there was Jessica, gazing at her and smiling slightly.

  "Hello Heather," she said quietly, "did you miss me?"

  Jessica had been thinking about Heather all day, ever since she discovered that she was back in Invergar. She waited for a few hours then decided to go and have tea with Sadie. She did not know how she would react when she saw her friend again but presumed they would pick up where they had left off, although Heather was now a married woman who had experienced the mysteries of lovemaking and now owed her allegiance to her husband rather than her family and friends. She was head over heels in love with Bruce. Would it change anything?

  She went into the schoolroom to get a book and saw Heather looking at all the improvements she and Sadie had affected. There was a rapturous expression on her face. When she finally spoke, Heather whirled around and her face broke into a spontaneous smile.

  "Jessica!" Heather rushed forward to embrace her friend and Jessica hugged her back. All the resentment Jessica had felt towards her friend was washed away in that first rush of affection between them.

  Jessica laughed, then they drew apart a little to look at each other.

  "You look so happy!" Jessica observed.

  "I am." Heather laughed. "So do you."

  "So how is married life?" Jessica asked, "is it everything you expected it to be?"

  "Jessica, it is more," Heather said happily, "Bruce is such a tender and giving person, but sometimes he can be so passionate. I love every bit of him—all the time. "She paused for breath. "Now, has anything happened in your life?"

  Jessica took a deep breath. "Yes," she smiled, "I am engaged to be married."

  Heather squealed with delight, then hugged her friend tightly.

  "Put me out of my misery," Heather pleaded, "who is it?"

  "It's Dougie," she replied, "Douglas John McFarlane—Sadie and John's eldest son. We met the night you left. I don't know if it was exactly love at first sight, but it was something like it."

  Heather put her arm around Jessica's waist as they walked out. "Tell me all about it," she instructed, "leaving out no detail. By the way, have you set a date yet?"

  "Not yet." Jessica sighed. "He works in the castle of Laird Jamieson and I work here. I do not think your father wants or needs another footman, so until he can find another position we cannot marry, otherwise we would never see each other."

  "Hmm…" Heather mused, "let me think on it. By the way, I owe you an apology for leaving you in the lurch, so I need to make it up to you in some way. I will organize and pay for your reception and dress, and you can tell me what is needed for the school."

  "You cannot pay for my wedding!" Jessica was shocked. "It is too much, Heather."

  Heather smiled and patted her cheek. "It is my wedding gift," she replied, Bruce's and mine. Let us say no more about it. And you will need a lavender dress since that is the color you like best."

  Jessica looked at her with wide eyes. "I cannot believe it!" she exclaimed, "you have only been here a few hours and already my wedding is planned." She laughed. "I had better get some material from Aberdeen on Saturday."

  "You are not sewing it," Heather said indignantly. "I will get Maria MacGregor the seamstress to do it."

  "Thank you, Heather," was all Jessica could say, then she kissed her friend on the cheek.

  "Now - about the school - what do you need?" Heather asked briskly.

  "More supplies," Jessica answered sadly, "chalk, candles, coal for the fireplaces, paper, a globe of the world, and another teacher."

  "Right!" Heather rubbed her hands together. She relished all the challenges, the more difficult the better, and this one was tailor-made for her. "I will enlist James in this venture and he can draw up a budget. We will see if there are any wasted resources that we can use to better purpose. Don't worry, Jessica! I'm good at this kind of thing - If I say so myself!"

  38

  A Stranger

  When Heather and Jessica stepped outside the air was just beginning to descend into its evening chill. Jessica was going into the church hall and Heather down to the forge when they saw the stranger, a dark man on a huge dark brown horse. Outsiders were very unusual in the village, and the horse was going at walking pace, so Heather thought that he must be lost.

  "I have to go," Jessica said hastily, "will you be all right?"

  Heather smiled. "I can scream very loudly!" she replied, laughing. She walked down the hill to the horseman and smiled at him. "Good day sir," she said politely, "can I help you? You look as if you have lost your way."

  The man turned to her, taking his hat off, and laughed ruefully. "Yes, thank you," he answered, sounding relieved, "am I in Invergar?" He had an accent like her own, upper-class with crisp enunciation and round vowels.

  "Yes, you are," she replied, "can I direct you somewhere? I
t's a very small place. Nowhere is very far from anywhere else."

  "I hope so." He frowned. "I am looking for a midwife."

  Heather panicked for a moment. "There are two of them, and they are both in Aberdeen for a while visiting their sister. Their assistant is standing in for them. Where is your wife? I can take you to her at once."

  "How old is she?" the man asked sharply, frowning. He looked quite menacing.

  "About sixteen, I think," Heather replied, suddenly not liking the look of this dark stranger at all. She began to feel quite scared. "Why do you ask, sir? She is a very capable young woman. I can personally vouch for her. Your wife will be in the best possible hands."

  The man shook his head. "No, it is a personal matter." He sighed and wheeled his horse around. "When do you think they will be back?"

  "I think they usually stay away for a week, but they only left yesterday, so I'm told."

  He tutted with annoyance. "I will come back later then," he said, donning his hat again.

  "May I give them a message?" Heather asked.

  "No, it's fine," he replied, smiling at her. "You have been very helpful. Thank you."

  Heather watched him canter away on his heavy horse with a feeling of foreboding, then she began to walk down to the forge.

  When Bruce and James arrived at the forge, the blacksmith was nowhere to be found. Eventually, they found him at the back of the house in an empty stable, sleeping. A half-drunk bottle of whiskey was dangling from his limp hand, and Bruce kicked it away in disgust, then toed him none too delicately in the shoulder. The man shifted and moaned incoherently, but did not wake.

  "Jamie, will ye kindly gie me that bucket o' water there?" Bruce asked grimly.

  "Are you going to throw it over him?" James asked, grinning broadly.

  "Aye," Bruce replied, but his face was grim.

  "Allow me," James said politely, before upending the bucket over Colin Mulholland's head. The water had been standing for a couple of days and had a thick film of oily soot on top. It ran in black rivulets down the man's face and into his mouth. The drunkard cried out, spluttered and opened his eyes, then glared murderously at both of them.