A Knight For Her Highland Heart (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Barbara Bard

  Christian debated taking the bottle, but eventually he relented. He wasn’t a drinker, but between his sore body and Gavina’s still flippant attitude, it was a welcomed break.

  Not much was said as the Bairdsmen finished their meals and polished off the bottle of wine. It appeared that Lachlan was the only one who had overindulged, stumbling back to his tent and singing a Highlander’s tune as he fell asleep the moment his head hit the ground. Ava and Tessa departed shortly after, and after lingering by the fire for a few more moments, Gavina leaned in to Christian’s ear and said: “Would ye like tae follow me back to me tent? Perhaps…I can…see how yer wounds are healing.”

  Christian was still conflicted. He knew that Gavina was being deliberately distant—but she was gorgeous and formidable, nonetheless. Between the sip of wine that he had taken, and very much intoxicated by Gavina’s beauty, he followed her back into her tent.

  They walked inside, Gavina closing the flap behind them as she bit her lower lip. “Remove your tunic,” she said, talking to him like he was a member of the Bairdsmen.

  Christian complied and removed his garb. Gavina walked up to him and rested her palms on his bare chest, the warmth of her hands making Christian feel like he was being wrapped in a warm blanket.

  Gavina began kissing him from his neck to his naval, soft placement of her lips slowly moving down toward his waist and making him tingle with anticipation.

  “Close your eyes,” Gavina then whispered as she began undoing his belt.

  Christian complied and closed his eyes as he felt her hands moving from his waist to his loins. Seeing nothing but black, he then felt a wet and warm sensation overcome his manhood. Christian’s knees nearly buckled from the pleasure; the sensations he was experiencing almost overwhelming.

  A few moments passed and Gavina stood back up. “Undress me,” she said to Christian.

  Christian began removing her clothing, one piece at a time. At that point, they were both naked, and Gavina ordered Christian to put his lips on her body.

  Christian kissed her from her neck down to her chest, his tongue unable to keep itself from exploring her bare breasts. Gavina whimpered in approval, her skin turning goose-like as she ran her fingers through his hair and pressed him harder into her chest.

  They then laid on the floor, Christian on top of Gavina this time as she spread herself and delicately grabbed him by his manhood. She guided him inside of her, both of them exhaling the ecstasy that came from the moment when two became one.

  “Fast,” Gavina whispered into his ear. “I want to feel everything…”

  Christian thrust, his hips gyrating as a symphony of pleasure erupted inside of their bodies. The faster he went, the more Gavina dug her nails into his back and buttocks.

  After what seemed like a pleasant eternity, Gavina flipped over and mounted Christian. She grabbed his hands and told him to massage her breasts as she thrust back-and-forth, back-and-forth. After a few more moments, Christian sat erect and cradled Gavina’s buttocks, lifting her up and down on top of him as they pressed their bodies close together and coiled their arms around one another.

  “Faster!” Gavina said, trying to keep her voice low, though the pleasure was starting to get the better of her.

  Christian complied, knowing that the moment was drawing near in which they both would climax. Their whimpers turned to moans, their moans to cries. Gavina, looking Christian square in the eye, nodded to let him know that the moment had finally arrived.

  They completed, both of them exhaling from the exertion and the ecstasy before Gavina climbed off of Christian and laid on her side. The passion then left the tent entirely as she cleared her throat and said: “That was quite enjoyable. But we should rest noo. We hae tae ride in the morning.”

  Christian felt depleted and uncertain as Gavina turned away from him. He enjoyed the experience with her. There was no question. But the notion of her being as distant as she clearly was being didn’t settle well with him. But saying nothing more, he laid down a few feet away from her, turned over, and tried his best to sleep. It ended up not amounting to much.

  Chapter 18

  Eirlys tilted up Lord Torstein’s chin and looked at his eyes, examining him. “Ye need water,” she said. “Ye are parched.” She turned to one of the knights standing the rear. “He needs tae be given some water.”

  The knight shrugged. “That is up to Sir Jessup.”

  Eirlys stood. “Then perhaps ye should tell Sir Jessup that this man needs tae be tended tae, otherwise he will die.”

  The knight stood for a moment, debating what to do. He then left the room and whispered something to the other knight as he closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Why are you helping me?” Lord Torstein said, rubbing his raw ankles and wrists.

  “It is nae like I hae much choice,” Eirlys replied.

  “You despise me,” Lord Torstein said. “I can see it in your eyes.”

  She shook her head. “I dinnae despise ye. I dinnae even ken ye.”

  “I am an English lord. One does not have to say any more than that to a Highlander to guarantee the fact that they will be disliked.”

  “I am nae like my fellow countrymen. I dinnae cast opinions on someone until I hae gotten tae ken them better.”

  Lord Torstein smiled, weak. “What would you like to know?”

  She shrugged. “Anything. But ye should preserve yer energy.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Both Lord Torstein and Eirlys knew from the thick and deliberate knocks that it was Sir Jessup. The door then opened, and Sir Jessup then entered.

  “It has been brought to my attention,” Sir Jessup said. “That Lord Torstein is parched and requires water.”

  Eirlys nodded. “Aye, sir. I fear that it may dae damage tae him if he goes any longer without it.”

  Sir Jessup took a moment to look Lord Torstein over. “He does not appear to look as in bad a shape as you have made it out to be.”

  Eirlys wanted so desperately to grit her teeth. “Sir,” she said, addressing Sir Jessup with the most cordial and respectful of tones. “With all due respect—I hae seen men in his condition before. They end up falling further into sickness when they are denied the proper sustenance. He requires food. Water. A brief reprieve from yer…interrogations.”

  Sir Jessup took his time answering. “Is that so?”

  Another nodded from Eirlys. “Aye, sir.”

  Another moment taken by Sir Jessup. “So be it,” he said with a sigh before turning to one of the knights. “Fetch the necessary for our good friend Lord Torstein here. Be quick.”

  The knight nodded dutifully and decked out of the room.

  Sir Jessup approached Lord Torstein and requested a chair from the corner to be brought over by the other knight. The other knight obliged, and Sir Jessup sat in the wooden chair in front of Lord Torstein.

  “How are you feeling?” Sir Jessup asked.

  Lord Torstein leered straight back at Sir Jessup. “A foolish question.”

  “For a foolish man. We are still dragging our feet through the mud with this whole debacle. Are we not?”

  “I told you—I will not reveal to you the Baird’s location.”

  “Then many more will die as you insist on digging your heels into the ground. This is not a battle worth fighting, Lord Torstein. Your insistence to remain secretive will only further add to the anguish.”

  Lord Torstein shook his head and huffed.

  “Something amuses you,” Sir Jessup said.

  “You are not a spiteful or evil man, Sir Jessup,” Lord Torstein said. “You can fool yourself and everyone else into thinking that it is your nature, but it most certainly is not the case.”

  Sir Jessup smiled. “It seems to me that everyone around me has the same opinion about my demeanor and my resolve. I truly relish the fact that those who are not me seek to tell me what it is I am thinking and feeling. It makes me feel like a bloody fool.”

  “Because those ar
ound you have seen evil men, men like Lord Henry. That man was the epitome of what evil and ruthless men are. You are not this man.”

  “Only words.”

  Lord Torstein leaned forward. “Then why did you spare that woman and her child from execution if you are as ruthless as you claim to be?”

  Sir Jessup took a long moment to answer. Lord Torstein’s words cut like a knife, telling Sir Jessup what he already knew about himself but had failed—and was still failing—to admit.

  “Your Highlander friend,” he said, “intervened and got himself killed before I had the chance. It was a fluke. Nothing more.”

  Lord Torstein leaned back. “I will take a hint from you and state that what you have just divulged to me is nothing more than ‘only words.’”

  Sir Jessup flashed a crooked smile. “Keep this up, Lord Torstein.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll show you what real resolve looks like.”

  A light laugh, “I would be curious to see such promises in action.”

  A moment passed, then Sir Jessup took out a dagger, grabbed Eirlys by the hair, spun her around, and held the knife up to her neck. Eirlys shuddered, her face turning pale as she stared on at Lord Torstein in wide-eyed fear.

  “Please,” Eirlys protested quietly. “Please, dinnae hurt me.”

  Sir Jessup jutted his chin at Lord Torstein. “That is up to your friend here, my dear. All of this madness will end if he merely complies with my wishes.”

  Lord Torstein grit his teeth. “You won’t. You do not have the stomach for it.”

  Sir Jessup waited a few seconds. Then a few more. Finally, he said: “So be it,” as he began to slowly slice a line across Eirlys’s neck. The wound bled, Sir Jessup creating a laceration about one inch long.

  “Stop!” Lord Torstein shouted out.

  Sir Jessup ceased cutting. Tears flowed in thick beads down Eirlys’s cheeks.

  “Stop this now,” Lord Torstein said, twisting and writhing in his restraints.

  Sir Jessup held up the knife, the tip coated with crimson. “Do you believe me now, good man? Do you believe now that I will do whatever is necessary to find the location of those Highlanders you so desperately shield?”

  Lord Torstein hung his head.

  “Answer me!” Sir Jessup hollered.

  “Why?” Lord Torstein said. “Why must we do this?”

  “Because you withhold—”

  “I mean all of it, Sir Jessup. This campaign. This endless struggle to do the bidding of our tyrant king. All of this is tantamount to nothing more than death or destruction. Look at you! Look at yourself as you hold that innocent woman captive. This is not how people are meant to live, Sir Jessup. This is not the way!”

  Sir Jessup pointed the knife. “War,” he said, “and loss have made me this way. Life is about survival, Torstein. I have told you this many a time.” He shoved Eirlys forward, Eirlys falling on her hands and knees. “You are fools. All of you. You do not understand what must be done in order to establish peace and prosperity. War and violence are the only way to secure it. I am not the one breeding the conflict here, Lord Torstein—you are.”

  Sir Jessup turned around, wiping Eirlys’s blood off the tip of his knife before pocketing it. “I will return tomorrow,” he said. “If you still insist on withholding what I wish to know, then you and that woman tending to you are both dead. We are done discussing the matter.” He ordered his knight to open the door and slipped out.

  Eirlys stood and wiped her palms before checking the cut on her neck.

  “Are you alright?” Lord Torstein inquired.

  Eirlys nodded. “I am fine.”

  Lord Torstein felt his skin going hot, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled his anger. “We cannot continue this,” he said in a whisper, making sure his voice was low enough that the two knights in the rear could not hear.

  Eirlys shook her head. “There is nae much we can dae about it,” she said. “We are prisoners in Sir Jessup’s world.”

  Lord Torstein hung his head. He knew that their fates were all but sealed. He stood by his opinions of Sir Jessup not being a ruthless man, but he feared that enough events had transpired that had slowly pushed Sir Jessup over the edge.

  He nodded his head for Eirlys to lean in closer and whispered: “We must escape,” he said.

  Eirlys furled her brow. “How?”

  Lord Torstein took a look at both knights, neither of them suspicious at what words were being exchanged. “I believe I have a plan…”

  An hour had passed since Sir Jessup had informed Lord Torstein that he was a day away from meeting his demise. Eirlys, approaching one of the two knights in the room, said: “I maist wash up. My hands are filthy.”

  The knight shook his head. “I shall bring you a bowl of water—”

  Eirlys sighed and leaned in close. “I…hae…lady duties to attend to.”

  The knight felt his stomach turn, anxious at letting the Highlander woman before him cause any kind of problems because of her “lady duties.”

  The knight sighed. “Damon,” he called out to the other knight.

  The other knight—Damon—waited for the rest.

  “We shall return soon,” the knight said to Damon. “Keep a close watch on Lord Torstein.”

  Damon the knight nodded as the other knight led Eirlys out of the room and locked the door behind him. Lord Torstein and Damon were the only ones in the room at that point, and after a few moments of silence, Lord Torstein said: “Damon is your name.”

  The knight said nothing.

  “Stay silent,” Lord Torstein said. “I know all about you. You came into Scotland two months ago, I believe.”

  Again, the knight said nothing.

  “I have heard of you,” Lord Torstein went on. “I have heard you are weak.”

  The knight puffed his chest from the jab, but he nonetheless stood tall.

  “Again,” Lord Torstein said, “you do not have to answer. I know you are weak. I have seen you practicing your skills on the courtyard. I can understand why you have been put on petty guard duty.”

  “Silence your tongue,” Damon the knight said. “Or else I will be forced to cut it out.”

  “You will do no such thing. You are Sir Jessup’s lap dog. You wouldn’t even relieve yourself in the bathroom if you did not have his permission.”

  “Silence!”

  “Oh, hush. You do not scare me. You are as threatening to me as a child. I could speak ill of your own mother and you would not do a thing about it.”

  The knight took a step forward. “Enough!”

  “Should I speak of your mother? I have heard dire things…”

  The knight withdrew his sword and marched forward. As he prepared to assault Lord Torstein—the door behind him was slowly opened, as Eirlys creeped inside without making a sound.

  “I’ll silence your tongue,” Damon the knight said as he raised a fist—but he was cut down with a dagger in the back and fell to his knees. Eirlys stood behind him, the dagger coated in red and a slack and terror-stricken look stretched across her face.

  “I…” she stammered, “I-I cannae believe I hae done that…”

  “You did well. Just as planned.” Lord Torstein, knowing that time was short, gestured to the fallen knight. “The key!” he said. “Quickly! There is no time to waste!”

  Eirlys dropped the dagger and found the key on the knight. She undid Lord Torstein’s restraints and gave him a moment to recoup his senses as he grabbed her by the shoulders and said: “We must flee. Quickly. We must leave here before anyone becomes wise to what we have done.”

  The two of them then slunk out of the room and began to make their escape through the castle. It would be a half hour before Sir Renly found the bodies of the slain knights and began to raise hell throughout the fortress.

  Chapter 19

  “We are a half-day’s ride away,” Gavina said to the Bairdsmen. “It is nae far noo.”

  Lachlan jutted his chin.
“I am famished, Gavina. And we are low on supplies.”

  “Can it nae wait?”

  “I feel as if I am on the verge of passing out.”

  Ava nodded. “Aye. Me as well. Perhaps it is best to find a meal?” she pointed to the sun overhead. “It is midday already.”

  Gavina looked to Tessa who nodded her acknowledgment. Christian did the same.

  “Very well then,” Gavina said as she brought her horse to a halt. “Remove the bows and the rest of the hunting gear. Lachlan—set up a fire. Ava and Tess and I will hunt. Christian, stay with Lachlan.”