Highlanders To Surrender To: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance

by Alisa Adams

  Davina sat very still for a moment with her hands over her face. Then she stood up and screamed. Athol put his arms around her and pushed her face onto his shoulder. "Why?" she roared, "Why? What have I done to this devil that he hates me so much?"

  She thumped back down into her chair again and sat sobbing bitterly. Una put her arms around her daughter while Lyle went to fetch the small flask of whiskey he always kept in his saddlebag. They took a goblet each. Athol downed his drink in one swallow, then stared into the fire, thinking.

  "I have sent for some spirits to be brought over from my castle," he informed them, "not because we need them for medicinal purposes, but because it warms the heart to sit with friends and have a cheerful glass." He sighed and looked at Lyle. "Why did you not tell me of this?"

  Lyle looked grim. "I wanted to share it with as few people as possible," he answered, "I wanted to find whoever did it by myself. Also, you are not the most discreet of people sometimes, Athol." Lyle's eyes bored into his for a moment and eventually, Athol gave in and nodded.

  "Another one of my many failings," he admitted, smiling sadly. "Well, two heads are better than one, so shall we see what both of us can find out together?"

  Davina had calmed down. Her fury had now given way to a smoldering, deadly rage. She swore there and then that whoever had done this to her family would pay and pay and pay. She would see to it.

  57

  A Change of Mind

  Lyle went home shortly after the emotional stress of the afternoon feeling drained and exhausted. He knew he had hurt Athol by not telling him the secret of the campaign against Davina, but he could not think of any other way he could have handled the situation. Davina had become his dearest friend next to Athol and he would fight for her. Apart from anything else, it had become a matter of honor and personal pride. He needed to solve the mystery for his own sake.

  He couldn't wait to be married. The thought of coming home to his precious little Mary every night was all he could dwell on. Some men had visions of marrying great beauties who were admired by everyone, but he scorned that. His ambitions were not lower, but different. There was nothing wrong with having a sweet comely wife who loved him, gave him playful children, and would do anything to make him content.

  He smiled. He was a very fortunate man since there were no obstacles to his happiness. Of course, he could never tell what the future would hold, but for now, the road ahead was smooth. He could only hope that it remained so.

  True to his word, Athol had placed one of his most trustworthy servants in Una's kitchen, so they were able to eat a relaxed meal that evening if anything about that day could have been thought of as relaxed. Davina was still shocked. The thought that so many lairds thought that she was no better than a whore made her feel deeply ashamed and embarrassed, and she did not know why. She had done nothing wrong. She and Una went to bed that night troubled, fretful, and unable to sleep. Just before they retired Athol settled down on a mattress in front of their door.

  "Nothing can get past me," he assured them, smiling and patting his big sword. "My trusty claymore Morag will not let them!"

  Davina knew that he was trying to cheer them up and she laughed dutifully, but she was still depressed.

  "Maybe it isn't time for levity," Athol sighed. He stood up, so close that he towered over her. She had to tilt her head right back so that she could see all of him.

  "I do feel safer knowing that you're close by," she admitted, "it's good to know you are here, Athol."

  He gazed down at her, frowning a little. Her gray-green eyes looked back at him, and all of a sudden, he realized that this little woman meant much more to him than he had previously thought. She was generous, loving, and now that he looked at her properly, really quite beautiful. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then quite unable to stop himself, he kissed her softly. He drew back for a moment, then looked into her eyes and did it again, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him.

  Davina was overwhelmed. This was not what she had envisaged happening at the beginning of the evening. She felt her body responding to him and she wound her arms around his neck, sinking her hands into the mass of his thick dark hair. The kiss became deeper and fiercer. She felt his tongue teasing her lips. She pulled away.

  "I'm sorry." He seemed just as shocked as she was. She was breathing heavily, looking up at him, dazed and flushed with confusion. "Don't kiss me just to comfort me," she whispered.

  "I'm not," he replied, "I just - Davina - I'm vain, I'm stupid sometimes and I know that I don't have much to recommend me, but will you let me just be with you sometimes?"

  "But we've always been friends," she pointed out, "we've always been with each other."

  "I want it to be more," he murmured, "I want to be able to be the man you turn to whenever you need to be held, to be kissed. I want to be here for you always. I—"

  She put her fingertips over his lips. "Don't say anything more," she pleaded, "this has been a horrible few days and I am a little emotional. Likely you are too. If this is just a form of comfort… I don't want it."

  He kept his gaze on her green eyes while she fixed hers on his hazel ones. "It is not just a form of comfort," he answered, "I really feel that we belong together." He took a deep breath. "There, I have said it."

  Davina cupped his face in her hands. "Sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning," her voice was husky. She made to turn away but he grasped her arm.

  "Do you feel nothing?"

  "Of course, I do, Athol."

  "Then—"

  "Do you not see?" she pleaded, "this is the way we are now. We feel too much in these circumstances. You may say things tonight that you will regret tomorrow."

  "I will not," he said, his tone firm and determined, "but I will do as you ask." He looked into her face one more time, then bowed formally and turned away, his face expressionless. She saw him lie down on the mattress before she entered the bedroom where Una was already asleep.

  She panicked again, her heart pounding with fear. Davina shook her mother awake. Una opened her eyes and smiled at her daughter. "I am fine, sweetheart." She smiled with half-closed eyes. "Still alive. Come into bed and go to sleep."

  "I am sorry, Mother," Davina said softly, "I suppose I will be afraid until they catch him." Davina, like a little child, did as Una had told her. She was so exhausted she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  Outside, Athol was lying on his makeshift bed staring into the darkness. Was Davina right? It had been the worst time he could ever remember. Had he kissed her just to comfort her? The answer, he knew, was a definite 'no.' He would tell her so in the morning.

  The next day dawned clear and blustery, and gray clouds were scudding across the sky. The wind blew sharply into Davina's face as she stood at the gate looking out over the sea. Athol had given her much to think about, and she needed to sort out her feelings before taking any decision about him. And the other thing? How did you go to lairds and say: Whatever you've heard, I'm not a whore! She jumped as Athol came up behind her.

  "I am sorry." He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, "I did not mean to frighten you."

  She nodded and hugged herself, turning away. His hands fell to his sides.

  "Have you thought any more about what I said last night?" he asked huskily. "Because I know how I feel, and it isn't going to change."

  Davina stood still for a whole two minutes. He watched her hair blowing backward in the wind from the sea, her straight profile with its slightly tip-tilted nose and arching brows. Suddenly, he noticed that she had lost a little weight. No wonder, he thought, I might have done too if I had been under so much stress.

  Eventually, she turned to him. His clear hazel eyes, shadowed under his thick dark brows, were almost her undoing. He was, without a doubt, one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, but that was not enough of a foundation on which to base a marriage.

  "Athol, thank you," Davina said,
her voice was trembling. "But now is not the right time. Do you not see that someone is trying to destroy my family? Let me address that problem first."

  "I am helping you with that," he reminded her. "Give me a chance to prove myself."

  "You have proved yourself," she answered, "but I am not yet ready."

  "But you are ready to start a business," he said reasonably, "how can you do that under all this stress? Davina, just let me be close to you. If you cannot bear me to be near you I will understand, but I am not so repulsive, am I? I know I used to love the mirror too much but I am not that man anymore, I promise you. you have changed me for the better."

  "You are a fine man, Athol," she murmured, "but you must give me time and wait until this mess is cleared up."

  He nodded sadly, picked up her hand and kissed it. "I must go." His eyes were anxious as he looked down at her. "I am leaving some of my men with you. I know that you say yours are faithful to you but you can never tell. They have been given no instructions other than to look after you both, so they know nothing of the whole story. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

  "Thank you, Athol," she replied, smiling. "You have done enough for now."

  Before she could stop him, he bent down and placed a firm kiss on her lips, then he mounted Jock and was gone, clattering down the cobbled pathway over the moat. She watched him until he was a few hundred yards away, then she turned and went back inside again. Athol's mind was full of Davina, but one memory forced its way back through the mists of his subconscious to intrude into the living world. He thought of Maura, lying beneath him, her body responding to his in the most primitive and satisfying way possible.

  Now, he could think of her and feel nothing. As a man, she could excite him, but was she a worthy and honorable person? He had a feeling that Lyle was right about her.

  Maura, at that moment, was lying in bed with her lover beside her, his head on her breast. They had just finished making love. "I have something to tell you," she said, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  "What?" His voice was drowsy, but what she said next woke him up smartly.

  "I am with child."

  The words dropped into the silence like stones in a still pond. "What?" he roared, sitting up and rocking the bed. Maura laughed, and it sounded like the tinkling of bells.

  "Do not worry," she replied, "it might not be what we wanted to do at first, but it fits in perfectly with our plans." She pulled his head back down again. "This is what we are going to do." She outlined her plans step by step and his smile became wider and wider as he listened. When she had finished, he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

  "I cannot believe you are so ingenious!" He stared at her in admiration. "If this works we are going to be rich beyond our wildest dreams!"

  "No, my little sweetheart." She smiled at him with unholy glee. "Not if, but when!"

  "Is it safe to love when you are with child?" he asked, stroking her still-flat stomach.

  "Yes, my sweetheart, it is." She laughed at his anxious face.

  "Thank God," he breathed and kissed her.

  58

  The New Man

  Una looked at her daughter, puzzled. They were both trying to keep their hands busy, Davina by spinning and Una by making a tapestry, hoping that somehow it would take their minds off their grief. "Is there something going on between you and Athol?" Una asked delicately, "he looks at you differently these days."

  "He has been wonderful, Mother," Davina sighed sadly, "but being concerned for someone's well-being and falling in love with them are two different things. He thinks he loves me, although he has never said the actual word. We talked last night, but I think he is living in a fantasy world. Oh, Mother, you have no idea how much I want to live in that fantasy world too. These last few days, well, this must be what living in hell is like. I cannot imagine anything worse. If you had died—"

  "But I did not die," Una said firmly, kneeling down in front of Davina and taking her hands. "Your hands are so cold, my daughter. I miss him too. I get cold in bed if you are not with me. Imagine, I shared a bed with him for half my life, it is hard being alone. I cannot imagine anyone taking his place, but we still have each other. There is a war going on against us, but how many small armies have won against insurmountable odds? We will triumph, and we will be stronger than ever. And now, tell me about your horses, because I want to be part of your new venture!"

  Davina was glad to have something new and cheerful to talk about. She wanted to start her new venture with the mare and foal she had bought, and specialize in the breeding of heavy plow horses. She loved these gentle giants, with their Roman noses, soft natures and huge feathered feet. The fast, racy horses favored by the gentry were not for her and her own horse was a stocky hunter, not a lightweight by any means. When Davina thought of horseflesh she thought of power and muscle.

  "I want to buy horses from the farms hereabouts," she said, "and maybe even as far away as Fraserburgh, Mother. Only the best breeding stock, mind. No weaklings. I will hire a few sturdy men to help me out, making sure that their pedigree is thorough too. But first, we must find out who our killer is, and who our slanderer is. I want this nightmare to be over, Mother, but most of all I want justice for you and Father. You deserve it."

  "Whatever we start to talk about we end up talking about your father," Una said with a heavy sigh. "You are right, my dear. Tomorrow we begin the quest for justice in earnest, but I want you to start breeding your horses soon if only to give you something to do. This cannot take over our whole lives."

  "And what will you do, Mother?" Davina asked curiously.

  "I will run the household as usual and help you as much as I can," Una said, a trifle over-brightly. "And I will help Athol and Lyle if they need me. I will get justice for us—I feel it in my heart."

  Davina smiled at her and poured her some spiced wine from the barrel that Athol had sent over. She handed a goblet to her mother.

  "They are so good to us," Una observed, smiling. “Do you have feelings for Athol, Davina? Because I would be happy if you did.” Una’s voice was soft and encouraging, but Davina only shook her head.

  "I am very confused, Mother,” she answered wearily, “and I cannot think about it now. Please let it go.”

  Una nodded. “If you wish.” She put her hand on Davina’s. “You know that I am always here. You mean everything to me.”

  Davina smiled at her mother. “I love you.” She smiled.

  Athol could not get Davina out of his mind. He wondered how he had managed to look at her for years and years without really seeing her. He knew the answer of course. He had not noticed her because he had been too busy looking at other exotic beauties and admiring himself too much. He would see her soon, for Una had summoned him and Lyle for dinner that evening. He was impatient. This new feeling had taken over his life and it was wonderful.

  Meanwhile, Davina needed to employ some skilled grooms to attend to the breeding stock. She enlisted the help of Laird McAllister, one of her father's closest friends, who sent his best stable manager to help her. Alec Douglas was a short dumpy little man with small dark eyes and a bald pate that looked as if it had been polished, so shiny was it. He was a happy soul. His laugh was loud and infectious, and he looked as though life was one permanent party. Davina liked him on sight and he was one of those people whom the horses liked immediately too.

  "Horses an' a' ither animals is great judges o' character, mistress," he informed her. “They aye knaw when there's a bad lot amang them."

  "I have heard that before," Davina replied, fascinated. "As if evil gives off a scent of its own."

  "They're canny creatures, horses," Alec replied. He had brought with him a man that the Lyle's father himself had recommended, based on his and Alec's own sound judgement.

  This stableman had been employed by Callum Shaw for years and was as trustworthy an employee as could be found anywhere. He was a broadly-set, well-muscled man in his mid-forties, handsome in a ru
gged way, with gray-streaked black hair and bright blue eyes. He handled the horses with an assurance born of long practice and, though he said little to her, Davina felt an immense comfort in his obvious expertise.

  "Thank you, Alec." She gave the little man a wide smile and he looked as though someone had given him a precious gift.

  "A pleasure, mistress," he replied, "Mungo will serve ye well, but ye will need anither pair o' hands an' a' ance the foals start drappin'!"

  Davina laughed. "From your lips to God's ears!" she prayed, laughing. "You will accompany me to the horse fair as we agreed?"

  "Aye, mistress!" he said with satisfaction, rubbing his hands together. "If there's ane thing I love it's horse fairs!"

  When Alec had gone Davina went to speak to Mungo, who was forking hay into Dandy's hay net. "What do you think of him, Mungo?" she asked.

  He smiled, showing even white teeth. "He's a beauty, mistress," he replied, "sturdy an fit, wi' a gentle nature. Ye'll dae well fae him."

  Davina noticed that like many men who worked with horses, he preferred them to people. "Are you married, Mungo?" she asked curiously.

  He laughed shortly. “Only tae these beautiful beasties," he answered, running a hand down Dandy's shining black coat. "They dinnae hurt anybody. Naw, mistress. I've never found the right lassie. Or she hasnae found me." His tone and the look in his eyes suggested that someone had hurt him badly before, but Davina had no wish to pry into his personal life, so she said nothing. She bade him farewell and walked back to the castle again, both dreading and relishing the evening ahead.