The Highlander's Bargain

by Barbara Longley

  “I have a wife.” His throat closed, and his eyes stung. “She is no’ dead, only far from me.”

  “Think you she will return?” William frowned at him.

  “Nay. I willna have further dealings with the fae. They took what they wanted from us. ’Twas no fair bargain after all, and I willna seek them out for redress lest the result be even worse.” Anger welled within him, and he fisted his hands by his sides. “I told Erin that once a MacKintosh gives his heart, ’tis given for life. I canna betray her. I willna betray my vows.”

  William rose from his place. “Mayhap you’ll see things differently one day. In the meantime, you have my permission to see this project completed.”

  “My thanks.” Once again he forced his thoughts from the pain eating away at him and broached another subject. “There is one more thing I wish to discuss before you take your leave, Uncle. Malcolm, Liam and I have been talking. We feel between the three keeps, we can support a priest in residence year round. I’d like to begin building a small kirk in the village with living quarters nearby. The priest can travel between Loch Moigh, Meikle Geddes and Rait, but his primary residence will be here.” He glanced at his uncle.

  “With your approval, I’ll send our request yet this day. If all goes well, before the summer is through, we’ll have our own parish, and the construction of our kirk will be well underway. Think of it, Uncle. Our clan will be able to attend mass, receive the sacraments and marry when they wish. We can have our bairns baptized in a timely manner. ”

  “See it done, Rob.” William smiled. “If that is all, I’ll take my leave. Malcolm awaits me in the great hall. We’ve a number of disputes to settle in the village.”

  “I’m finished.” Rob rolled up the map as he rose from the table. “I’ll head to the village with you. I wish to get the ditch begun while the weather holds.”

  “Stay a moment, Robley,” his father said, gesturing to the chair. “I’ve something I wish to discuss with you.”

  A look passed between Rob’s father and his uncle. William gave a slight nod before leaving. More puzzled than alarmed, Rob sat back down. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

  His father shifted in his chair. “’Twill soon be May.”

  “Aye?” He nodded.

  “You’re doing a fine job, my lad. Our clan is in good hands, and William is well pleased.”

  “My thanks. I find the work suits me after all.” Rob rose from his place again, impatient to begin his new project.

  “Your mother and I intend to travel to France. We leave within a fortnight.”

  “Och, aye?” He sat back down, his brow raised. “Are ye certain ’tis wise?”

  His father’s mouth, the good side, quirked up. “If there’s aught this malady has taught me, ’tis that life is fleeting. Your mother yearns to see her sister. We will stay a month at the marquis’s keep near Flanders, visiting with her family. Then we’ll travel to Paris and mayhap continue on to Spain.”

  “You’ve ne’er left for so long before.” Rob frowned. “When do you intend to return?”

  “Within the year. I’m retiring as seneschal and plan to pursue my own interests once your mother and I return.”

  Rob’s eyes widened. “You have . . . interests?”

  “Aye.” His father chuckled. “I wish to oversee the breeding and training of horses and hunting dogs. ’Twould be another source of income, and I’ve always been interested in improving the lines of both. Erin said exercise and involvement are both important to my continued recovery and good health.”

  Rob’s heart wrenched at the mention of her name. “She did, and you’ve proved her right.”

  “Go. Begin your project, lad. We’ll talk more this eve.”

  “Where will you undertake this new venture, Father?”

  “Meikle Geddes, of course. ’Tis our home, and the land is well suited to raising horses.”

  “I’ll help however I’m able.” Rob headed for the door, his mind spinning with this new twist.

  “You’ll have your hands full enough, I trow.” His father chuckled again. “Overseeing the management of the entire earldom will take up all of your time, my lad. I speak from experience.”

  “’Tis my hope and my salvation,” he muttered.

  “Your lass is sorely missed by all.” His father sighed. “Your mother and I grieve for your loss.”

  A lump formed in his throat. He nodded to his father and left for his chamber to change into garments more suitable for labor. He planned to lift a pick and shovel along with the villagers. Exhaustion gave him a small portion of relief. He’d tried drinking himself into a stupor when first he’d been sent back to Loch Moigh. Too much wine only added to his misery. Besides, the pounding head and sour stomach the day after made it difficult for him to do his job well. Nay, physical and mental endeavors were his only respite. As long as he was able, he intended to throw himself into the betterment of their holdings, and with his parents leaving for the continent, Rob would be needed even more.

  As a youth, he and his brother had always traveled with their father as he oversaw the management of Inverness, Meikle Geddes and Loch Moigh. Rob would be the one making the rounds. The thought of journeying to Inverness sent a shudder of dread through him. Last he’d heard, the faerie’s cottage was still deserted. Mayhap Giselle had left for good after her confrontation with her father. Rob could only hope, for he had no wish to ever see another faerie for as long as he lived.

  He entered his chamber, and his eyes lit upon Erin’s Harley jacket where it hung next to his on the pegs. Her satchel rested atop the small trunk where she kept her clothing. He had no heart for the task of disposing of her things. Having them near gave him comfort. Crossing the room to his trunk, he considered how he’d dig the ditch and what he and his men would need in the way of tools. He took out an old plaid and a shirt that was more rag than garment, rope for a belt and a worn-out pair of boots. He made quick work of changing, and then he headed to the great hall to break his fast.

  Malcolm and William were already gone by the time Rob made his way to the table. True sat by herself before a bowl of porridge. “Good morn to you.” Rob settled himself beside her and tore off a piece of dark bread. He placed a thick slab of ham atop it and took a bite. “Where are the bairns?”

  “In the solar with their nursemaids, Lydia and your mother.” She smiled. “They ordered me to have my morning meal unencumbered. It feels weird not to have one twin or the other in my arms, with Sky climbing onto my lap. How are you?” She glanced askance at his rough plaid.

  “Well enough.” He took another bite and waved toward the door. “I’m off to the village to assemble men for my latest project. We’re digging a ditch this day.”

  Her gaze pierced him. “How are you really?”

  He averted his gaze, and his heart wrenched. “No’ a day goes by that I dinna miss my wife. Everyone says time will lessen the pain, but I dinna believe it is so,” he answered, shrugging.

  “I’m sorry. I feel as if I’m partly to blame. I should have stopped you from traveling to the future.”

  “Nay, lass. Your two lads are hale and hearty. We have Erin and the fae to thank for that, and for my father’s recovery. As much as I detest the fae, I canna find it in me to regret the journey or the outcome.” He wolfed down the rest of his meal and stood. “Give my niece and nephews a hug for me. I’ll see you at the evening meal.”

  “Rob—”

  “I do well enough and dinna wish to speak any more on the subject.” God’s blood, he needed to remove himself from all the pity aimed his way inside this keep. Once the ditch was completed, he’d travel to Meikle Geddes to stay for a month. “I’ve work to do.”

  He had no intention of waiting for the ferry to return from the mainland and took one of the many skiffs upturned along the shore. Morning was fast waning, and he’d already wasted
too much time. Setting a rapid pace, he rowed across the loch to the village and thought only of what needed to be done in the immediate future.

  Once he’d secured the small boat, he set out for the stable to have a wagon hitched. Next he visited the inn and arranged for a meal to be brought out to the field, and finally he gathered the lads.

  By midmorning, Rob was knee-deep in mud and positioned at the head of the line of men wielding pickaxes and shovels. His muscles strained with each load of earth he heaved, and he welcomed the fatigue sure to follow. Sweat covered his brow and chest from the exertion. Behind the lead, others arranged rocks along the sides of the newly formed ditch. He and the men aimed for the burn that ran at the bottom of a slight decline. The waterlogged fields would empty into the burn, and the land would be dry enough to plow by planting time.

  Lads brought them ladles filled with water from a nearby spring, while others too young to dig gathered stones for the sides. Rob drove the edge of his shovel into the dirt and straightened. He stretched and surveyed the activity going on all around him. “Water,” he called. The miller’s son hurried over and offered him a wooden ladle filled to the rim. “My thanks.” Rob took it and slaked his thirst.

  “We’re making good progress, milord,” Kenneth, the strapping brother to their blacksmith, remarked.

  “Aye, that we are.” Mayhap after a full day’s labor, he’d be able to sleep this night. He handed the ladle back and lifted his shovel, just as two tones sounded from the village horn.

  “Who’d be coming home?” Kenneth wondered aloud. “Do ye know aught of any who be gone of late, milord?”

  “Nay, but I expect we’ll learn of it once the innkeeper’s wife brings our midday meal. Until then, let us be about our task.” He sank the edge of his shovel into the heavy, rocky soil and put his muscle into lifting the pile up and over the rim of their ditch. “If the rain holds, we’ll be able to put in a full day.” He glanced at the gathering clouds above. “Put your backs into it, lads, and hope for naught but mist,” he called. To those nearest he said, “We’ll dig only to yon pine. Then we’ll help with the lining of what is done thus far. It will no’ do to have our efforts washed away in a single rainfall.”

  A chorus of agreement echoed around him, and Rob set himself to his work. Mayhap someone from Meikle Geddes had arrived, or his brother Liam from Rait. Liam’s visits had become more frequent once winter was behind them. He, Liam and Malcolm oft planned for their villages and clan late into the night when his brother came for a visit. Liam would depart the next day, eager to get home to his wife and their wee lad. Would Liam venture forth when Mairen was so close to birthing their second bairn? “Mayhap my brother sends word that Mairen gave birth. Last he was here, he did say it could happen any day.”

  “’Tis certain you are right, milord.” Kenneth nodded, wiping the sweat from his eyes.

  His muscles ached by the time the clatter of the approaching oxcart reached him, and hunger set his stomach rumbling. “Cease your labors,” Rob shouted. “Our meal is come.”

  Friendly banter filled the air as the men climbed out of the ditch and laid down their tools. Rob did the same and followed the crowd to the burn to wash the mud from his arms and face. By the time he returned, the innkeeper’s wife was handing out slices of beef, bread, cheese and dried apples.

  “Yer wanted at the keep, milord,” she said as he reached the front of the line.

  “Do you ken who has come?”

  “Nay. I’ve heard naught. I’d already set out when the horn sounded. A stable lad rode out to me and bade me deliver the message. That is all I ken.” She shook her head and handed him his food.

  “Humph.” He frowned. Most likely word had arrived from Liam regarding the birth of Rob’s newest niece or nephew. “My thanks.” He filled his belly first, then gave instructions to the men before departing. The sky had darkened considerably, and he wanted the ditch lined with well-secured stone before the rain began. Robley wended his way through the groups of men resting and taking their meal. He informed his men he’d return by None if he could. If he didn’t return, they were to put in a full day if the weather permitted.

  Mounting his horse, he turned toward home, his curiosity piqued. The village was quiet, and the ferry gone. Whoever had arrived must have been delivered to the island, and the villagers must also be taking their noonday meal. Rob didn’t wait for the ferry master’s return. He brought his mount to the stable and handed the gelding off to a stable lad. His curiosity grew as he retraced his steps to the skiff he’d borrowed earlier, and he set off for the island.

  Things were fairly quiet on the island as well, but that was not unusual. He strode from the ferry landing to the portcullis. Glancing up to the guards, he called to one of them, “Geoffrey, who is come?”

  “I canna say.” He shrugged. “The earl and Malcolm bundled someone through with great haste, but I caught nary a glance.”

  “No danger?”

  “Nay, milord. None that we’ve heard of.”

  Rob made his way to the doors of the keep. If the arrival had not been important, why had he been called from his task? Irritated by the interruption, he scowled as he swung the doors open. The great hall was empty, and his mood darkened. Beth came around the corner from the back stairway. Her eyes went wide when his scowl turned her way.

  “I was told my presence was required,” he snapped. “Where is everyone?”

  “Above stairs in your mother’s solar, milord. You’ll want to change first, aye?” She looked pointedly at the mud clinging to his plaid and his boots.

  “Humph.” He turned toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. It couldn’t be one of their own if he was required to dress properly to receive them, could it? He froze outside his door. Someone was inside. The muffled sound of movement, of things being shuffled around came to him. His scowl deepened. Had someone sent a servant to clean—at the very time he was expected to make himself presentable? What the devil was going on?

  Robley swung the door open wide and stomped inside, ready to dismiss whoever it was who’d meet his wrath. He lost his breath. His knees went weak, and he had to lean against the wall. Two large packs rested on his bed, and his wife busied herself with unpacking. She wore the same gown she’d had on the day he fell into her arms. “Tell me you are no’ an apparition. Am I going mad with missing you?”

  “Oh, Robley!” Her eyes filled.

  The apparition threw herself into his arms. He crushed her to him, inhaling her beloved scent and drinking in the feel of her solid warmth against him. The pieces of his heart knit back together, and his insides filled with indescribable joy and relief. “How is this possible?” His hands shook as he framed her face between his palms and gazed into her eyes. He took inventory, comparing memory to reality. Aye, she hadn’t changed one whit. “How are you here?”

  “Can we discuss that later?” She blinked against the tears streaming down her face. “Would you just hold me for a few minutes? Being hurled through time with luggage is tough.”

  He glanced at the packs on their bed, and laughter seized him. “What have you brought with you, my love? Your entire apartment’s contents?” Again he crushed her to him, seeking her mouth with his before she could answer. His body reacted immediately, as if finally home after a long and lonely journey. “I need you, lass. I need to feel your body against mine before I know this is real and not a dream.” He let her go and raced across the chamber to remove the packs from their bed.

  She frowned and pointed to his garments. “Have you taken a vow of poverty or something? Why are you dressed in rags and covered in mud?”

  “I’ve been digging a ditch.” He tore out of the filthy plaid and tossed it on the floor. Leaning over with his bare buttocks against their bed, he tugged off his muddy boots. Feminine laughter filled the room, sending his heart tumbling over itself. God’s blood he’d missed the sound of his
wife’s laughter. He took it in, letting the sound fill his heart and soul. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he grinned so hard his cheeks ached with the force of his happiness. “Come here to me, mo céile.”

  “Impatient much?” She stepped closer and began to undo the laces of her gown.

  Robley straightened, shaking his head. The tears spilled from his eyes, and he did naught to stop them. “My sweet wife, ’tis no’ impatience that drives me but the need to prove that you are real.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “I have need of you—I must have you in my arms, or I fear I will wake, and this will all have been but a dream. I will no’ survive your loss yet again. I willna.”

  Her gown dropped to the floor just before she launched herself into his arms. He kissed her, tangling his fingers in her glorious hair. With fumbling fingers he helped her out of the rest of her garments. Tenderly he scooped her into his arms and laid her upon the mattress. Feasting upon the sight of her, his eyes roamed over every precious dimple and curve. His hands still shook, but he could not keep from touching her. “Your skin is warm and silken. Is this a memory, or are you real?” He took a moment to pull off his ragged shirt before lying down beside her.

  “I’m real.” Erin reached for him, drawing him into her embrace. “I’m here for good, and I need you too. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. It never entered my mind that I’d be able to return. I didn’t even know whether or not you were still alive.” She planted kisses all over his face. “I love you. For as long as I live, I will always love you.”

  “As I love you. I would hear how this all came about, but no’ now.”

  Robley made love to his wife, reacquainting himself with every delectable inch of her in the process. Long after they were both spent, he held her close. Stroking her back, over the swell of her hips and the roundness of her sweet derriere, he sighed with contentment. Her hands did the same, running over his chest, his shoulders and down his arms.