Highland Hero

by Hannah Howell

  Everyone at Dunmor was caught up in the joy of Malcolm’s safe return and the death of Simon. No one paid her much heed as she crept down the stairs, hurried through the wide doors of the keep, and dashed across the bailey. As soon as she got outside of the gates, she ran, determined to put as much distance between her and Dunmor as she could. There was no outcry from the walls, for they had been emptied upon Lucais’s return. Edina knew that there had never been a better time to make her escape, and she pushed aside all pain and regret and took full advantage of it. Later, when she could stop running, she would think about what she was doing.

  “Where is Edina?” demanded Lucais as he marched to the head table in the great hall and faced his two young cousins. “Have any of you seen her?”

  “Nay, not since we rode in through the gates,” replied Andrew.

  “We thought she was with you or with Malcolm,” said Ian.

  “She is nowhere to be found.” Lucais poured himself a tankard of ale and took a deep drink to steady himself. “I have spent this last hour trying to find her.”

  “Do ye think she has left?” asked Andrew.

  “Aye, I do. She isnae at Dunmor, that is certain.” He ran his hands through his already badly tousled hair. “I dinnae understand.”

  “Weel, she did say that she would stay until the child was safe and she was sure that he would be weel cared for. She kens all that now. Still, ye would have thought she would say fareweel.” Andrew frowned and looked at Lucais. “Unless she feared someone might make her stay for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Ye mean me. Do ye think I am a wrong reason?”

  “Aye, if all ye wanted was a lass to warm your bed.”

  “That is not all I wanted, and she kens it.”

  “Ah, ye talked to her about that last night, did ye?”

  “We didnae do much talking last night.” Lucais began to feel uneasy. “I had thought that there would be time to think about this and to talk. I ne’er thought she would just run away.”

  “She probably saw that it was the perfect time to get away without any awkward good-byes or ye trying to make her stay just to warm your bed.”

  “Will ye stop saying that?” Lucais snapped, but Andrew just shrugged, unmoved by his cousin’s temper.

  “If ye want more than that, then ye have to tell her so.”

  “Mayhap she doesnae want any more.” The mere thought that Edina had wanted no more from him than a brief moment of passion was uncomfortably painful, and Lucais tried to shrug the thought away.

  Andrew made a derisive sound that was echoed by Ian. “She will take whate’er ye want to give her, or would, save that she has a lot of pride for a wee lass. Ye are probably the only one that hasnae seen how she looked at you. There was more than passion shining in those bonnie eyes. And she was a weelborn maid, an innocent no doubt. That kind of lass doesnae leap into a mon’s bed just because he has a pretty smile. Of course, since she isnae here, ye cannae ken what she thought or felt.”

  “Ye think I ought to chase the lass,” Lucais said even as he decided that he would do just that, right to the gates of Glenfair if he had to.

  “I think ye ought to. I would. I would run her down and tell her all that is in my heart, for that is what she needs. ’Tis your decision. Of course, she is poor and landless and ye willnae gain anything but her if ye wed her.”

  “I think that will be more than enough,” Lucais said as he started toward the door.

  “Talk to the lass,” called Andrew.

  “Aye,” agreed Ian. “She hasnae had a verra happy life and she needs to ken that ye are offering her more than a warm bed and, mayhap, honor and duty.”

  As he strode to the stables to get his horse, Lucais idly wondered how his cousins had come to know Edina so well. The moment his horse was ready, he swung up into the saddle and galloped out of Dunmor. If Edina needed sweet words, he would do his best to give her some, but he would get her back to Dunmor even if he had to drag her back. The moment he had realized that she was gone, he had known that he needed her and that the sweet passion they shared was only a small part of that. Lucais just prayed that she felt the same.

  Chapter 8

  With her hand shading her eyes, Edina looked toward the hills in the distance and sighed. There was still a long way to go. She was not afraid of the journey. The weather could be harsh in early September, but she knew how to find or build a shelter. Late in the summer the land teemed with food if one knew where to look, and she did. She had Gar, her weapons, and was a skilled hunter, so she did not fear hunger. What twisted her insides into painful knots and made her head ache with the urge to weep was the fact that she was walking away from everything she wanted and needed. At the end of her journey was Glenfair, her cold, dour uncle, and his equally cold, dour people. She had always been alone, but now she knew she would suffer deeply from it. Now she knew that the love, friendship, happiness, and caring she had often dreamed of could really exist. It was going to be torture to live without it.

  “Do ye think I have made a mistake, Gar?” she asked the dog sitting at her feet.

  “Aye, but I begin to wonder if ye have the wit to ken it.”

  Edina was both frightened and elated by the sound of Lucais’s deep voice right behind her. It also surprised her that she had not heard his approach and that Gar had given her no sign that they were no longer alone. She had not thought that she was that deeply sunk into her own musings. When she slowly turned to face Lucais and saw that he was on foot, his horse nowhere in sight, she felt a little less upset about how he had managed to sneak up on her.

  “Ye didnae follow me all this way on foot, did ye?” she asked, curiosity briefly overwhelming her unease.

  “Nay, I left my horse back among the trees. He will be safe enough. These are still my lands.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her, one dark brow raised in an expression of slight derision. “Ye havenae gone verra far.”

  “Weel, I have been walking only for two, mayhap three, hours.”

  “And ye intended to walk all the way back to Glenfair?”

  The bite to his words began to annoy her, and she put her hands on her hips, staring at him belligerently. “Aye. Mayhap ye failed to notice that I dinnae own a horse. The only way I can get back to Glenfair is to walk there.”

  “Ye didnae think ye should tell me that ye were leaving? One usually pauses to thank one’s host before fleeing his home.”

  “I said faretheeweel to Malcolm,” she replied, some of her belligerence fading as she fought a sense of guilt over the way she had crept away from Dunmor.

  “Oh, aye, ye spoke to the only one who couldnae understand and certainly couldnae tell anyone that ye were leaving.”

  “I came to Dunmor to be certain that Malcolm was safe and that he would be weel cared for. That has all come to pass, so there is nae any reason for me to stay another day.”

  “Not even to say a proper faretheeweel to your lover?”

  Edina cursed the blush that immediately warmed her cheeks. “One night of madness doesnae make ye my lover.”

  “Weel, then let us make it two so that ye can reconsider your decision to creep away like some thief.”

  Before Edina fully understood what he was saying, Lucais grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder. That abrupt move and her own surprise kept her breathless for a moment as he started to walk back in the direction of his keep. She was not sure why he was acting so offended or even why he had come after her, but as she regained her senses, she decided that she did not like the way he was toting her about like an old blanket.

  “Put me down, ye great oaf,” she snapped, and punched his broad back, cursing when he did not even flinch. “Gar,” she called, and frowned when she looked around and did not see her dog. “Where is that foolish beastie?”

  “He trotted off into the wood, nose to the ground.” Lucais lightly slapped her on the backside when she wriggled violently in his hold. “Enough, or ye shall tumble to
the ground and break your bonnie, empty head.”

  “Empty head?” She hit him again, then watched in growing suspicion as he took a blanket roll from the back of his saddle and tossed it on the ground, spreading it out with a few nudges from his feet. “Just what are ye planning?”

  A soft screech that was a mixture of alarm and annoyance escaped her as he picked her off his shoulder and gently tossed her onto the blanket. Before she could get away from him, he pinned her there by sprawling on top of her. Her attempts to hit him were stopped with an embarrassing ease when he lightly grasped her by the wrists and held her arms down on the blanket. Edina glared at him, struggling to cling to her sense of outrage and ill use and not be distracted by how good it felt to have his big, strong body pressed so close to hers.

  Lucais saw her beautiful eyes darken slightly, the hint of passion in their clear depths contradicting the anger on her delicate face, and he inwardly smiled. That small sign that she wanted him still was enough to restore his battered confidence and soothe some of the pain she had inflicted by leaving so abruptly. His cousins might be right. He just needed to tell her how he felt and offer her more than passion.

  At the moment, however, the feel of her soft, lithe body had him eager to do something other than talk. Mayhap, he told himself, it would not hurt to remind her of the sweet fire she was walking away from. And, when lying in his arms, sated from the fierce passion they shared, she might also be more inclined to listen to what he had to say. If nothing else, he decided as he lowered his mouth to hers, he craved one last time in her arms before she walked out of his life forever.

  Edina gasped when his mouth covered hers, unwittingly giving him the chance to deepen his kiss immediately. A part of her was outraged. That little voice spoke of sin, warned her about allowing herself to give in to passion without love, and urged her to say no. As Lucais released her wrists and smoothed his big hands down her body, a louder, stronger voice told her cautious self to be quiet. Edina groaned softly as desire rushed through her veins, silencing the argument in her head. She wrapped her arms around Lucais’s neck and returned his impassioned kiss.

  It was not until they were lying flesh to flesh, their clothing scattered over the ground, that she grasped a fragment of clear thought. She briefly wondered how they had gotten undressed so fast, then struggled to think about what she was doing and not about how much she wanted to do it. The night she and Lucais had spent together had been beautiful. In a strange way, the need to go and save Malcolm had enhanced the sweetness of it. There had been no morning regrets, no wrong things said or done to spoil everything, even the memory. This time they were alone with no chance of interruption, and this time she could not use Malcolm as a reason to stay close, hoping for more than passion.

  Lucais slowly kissed his way to her breasts, and Edina shuddered. There had been no promises, no words of love. Lucais could have sought her out because he hungered for another taste of the passion they shared, and for no other reason. As he drew the hard tip of her breast deep into his mouth, she decided that she did not care why he was there. Another taste of the passion they shared would just add to the memories she could cherish when she was alone again. She wrapped her body around his and let passion rule her.

  Lucais held Edina close as he regained his senses. Never had lovemaking been so sweet or so fulfilling. He could not understand how she could walk away from that. When he felt her start to tense and shift slightly in his hold, he knew he had to start talking, demanding a few answers from her, and being painfully honest himself.

  “Edina,” he said, touching a kiss to her forehead as he gently but firmly held her still when she tried to move out of his arms. “We must talk. Since we first set eyes on each other we have suspected each other and desired each other. We have protected my sister’s child, beaten my enemy together, and talked about little parts of our lives. Now we must swallow our pride and our doubts and talk about what is to happen between us.”

  She peered at him through the tangled curtain of her hair, not sure what he meant. A little knot of fear formed in her stomach. If he was planning to ask her to be his lover, to stay with him as his leman, she was not sure she had the strength to refuse.

  “What about us?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

  “This might be a wee bit easier for me if ye didnae look so frightened,” he said, and smiled crookedly.

  “Uncertainty makes me frightened.”

  “Edina, do ye think I ran after ye just for this, sweet as it is?”

  “I am not sure why ye are here.” She took a deep breath and decided to be completely honest. “I cannae stay if all I am to be is your leman. ’Tis best if I leave now.”

  “I wouldnae chase my leman down if she left me. I would just go and find another.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth when her eyes widened slightly. “Aye, I want ye in my bed, but I also just want ye.” He grimaced. “I have ne’er spoken of such things with a lass before, so I ken that I may not say it weel, or prettily.”

  “Say it badly or any way ye choose,” she whispered. “Just say it.”

  He laughed and pulled her into his arms. “I was nae really sure until I found ye gone, but I love ye, Edina MacAdam. I want ye to stay with me as my wife.”

  “Are ye sure? I have no dowry.” She was not surprised that she found it hard to speak, her voice choked with tears, for she was elated, stunned, and afraid that she had not heard him right.

  “Ye are all I need. I have lands and I am wealthy enough to satisfy all my needs.” He looked at her, frowning a little when he saw a tear roll down her cheek. “I was hoping that ye would answer in kind.”

  She hugged him with her whole body. “Idiot. I love ye. Aye, I will marry ye. I have just dreamed of hearing ye say such things so often that I feared I had imagined them.” As she got her emotions under control, she looked at him and smiled slightly. “Actually, I do have a small dowry.” She glanced at Gar as he trotted up to sit beside them. “A big, furry one.”

  Lucais laughed and reached out to pat the dog. “A prize any mon would welcome. We shall have to find him a fine bitch to breed with.”

  “And then we shall have puppies tumbling underfoot. Puppies, and Malcolm, and mayhap a bairn or two of our own?”

  “As many as ye want.” He gently kissed her. “And they will ne’er be left alone, nor will their mother.”

  Edina did not think she could ever love him more than she did at that moment. “I do so love you, Lucais.”

  “And I you, my wee forest maid.”

  She smiled and looked around at the trees encircling them. The forest was where her mother had cast her aside. The forest was where she had found Malcolm and where she had met Lucais. And now it was in the forest that they pledged their love. Perhaps, she thought with an inner laugh of pure joy as she gave herself over to his kisses, there is something good to be found in the forest.

  The Magic Garden

  Chapter 1

  Scotland

  Summer, 1390

  “He willnae hang me. He only wants some food.”

  Rose Keith repeated those words again as she took the apple tarts she had made out of the stone oven. It had to be the hundreth time she had said those words, but she was not feeling any calmer. She said them again as she dribbled honey over the top of the tarts, but noticed that her hands still shook a little. If she did not calm herself down, she would never make it to the keep. Someone would find her sprawled on the road in a swoon, crushed tarts all around her.

  “Why would the laird wish to see me?” she asked the black-and-white cat sprawled on her kitchen table, but he simply opened one eye a little, yawned, and turned onto his back. “A fat lot of good ye are, Sweetling.”

  She took off her apron and hung it on the hook by the back door of her cottage. The day had dawned so bright and warm, she had been certain it would be a good day. Then little Peter had arrived with word from the castle that the new laird wished her to bring him some of her fin
e apple tarts in time for his evening meal. Rose had felt her heart plummet into her feet and it had not returned to its proper place yet, no matter how many comforting things she told herself.

  Visiting the old laird had never troubled her so. She had skipped up to the keep several times a week since she had been a small child to deliver food to the old laird. He had been very kind to her, had even grieved with her when her mother had died three years ago. In fact, she was sure it was the old laird who had left the basket of kittens at her door in an attempt to cheer her. But the old laird was dead now, his son now home to take his place.

  As she braided her hair, she tried to recall the boy she had once known. Dark, she thought, and smiled faintly. Dark hair, dark gray eyes, and dark skin. He had been so surprisingly tolerant of and kind to the child she had been. It had saddened her when he had left to fight in France almost ten years ago. His visits home had been rare and brief and she had not seen him, so her last clear image of him was as a young man of barely nineteen years. Now he was nearing thirty, his youth given to battle and the last of his family dead. It was no wonder he was dark-humored she thought, then scolded herself for heeding rumor and gossip.

  Men grew up. Kind, smiling young men were changed into stern, solemn lairds. It was a sad fact of life that the sweet joy of youth faded. She had been a happy child, sheltered and blissfully innocent. Time and understanding had stolen that cheerful ignorance. Her mother had not been able to mute all the ugly whispers about the Keith women or halt every outbreak of fear and anger. Rose could understand people’s fears, for she had felt the touch of them herself from time to time, but she was not sure she would ever understand why their fear made them cruel.