A Knight For Her Highland Heart (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Barbara Bard

  Christian slowly nodded his head. “That is the way it will be…”

  Her lower lip trembling, Gavina slowly backed away from the cell. She then turned, fleeing out of the stable and running into an alley in-between the stables and the tavern. She covered her mouth, the pacing of her breathing intensified as she felt her hands shaking and her eyes welling. And then, perhaps for the first time in a long time—Gavina wept.

  Sir Jessup’s men arrived on the outskirts of a village. Sir Renly, adjusting his weight on his saddle, said: “What now, Jonathan?”

  Sir Jessup nodded to the village. “I have a feeling,” he said, “that our dear friend Lord Torstein might have come through here with his Highlander friend.” He turned and looked at his men. “Assign several men to follow you and I into town. Perhaps a few inquiries are in order.”

  Sir Renly pointed to three men to join him and Sir Jessup as they entered the village. Local Highlanders, all of them hiding their faces or surreptitiously retreating into their homes upon looking at the Sassenach riders, said nothing as Sir Jessup and the knights rode through town.

  After discovering where the local inn was, Sir Jessup dismounted his horse, ordered the three knights to stay outside, and told Sir Renly to stay on his rear.

  The innkeeper, perking up and forcing a smile as Sir Jessup entered, greeted them as they walked in the door: “Greetings, gentlemen,” he said. “And welcome. How can I service ye today?”

  Sir Jessup forced his own smile. “Hello, my good man. And how are you fairing today?”

  The innkeeper shrugged. “Things are slow, but I cannae complain.”

  “A good spirit to have, my good man.”

  “I would say so. Noo, how can I help ye gentleman? Are ye looking fer a place tae stay?”

  Sir Jessup shook his head. “We are not,” he said. “We are merely passing through.”

  “Can I offer ye a meal? Perhaps something tae drink?”

  Sir Jessup smiled. “A drink sounds quite lovely…”

  The innkeeper fetched a bottle of whiskey, poured two fingers worth in a mug, and passed it to Sir Jessup. “Compliments of the house,” he said.

  Sir Jessup pulled the mug to his lips, tasted it, and swigged. “My, my,” he said. “My countrymen have a taste for Highlander whiskey, but I most certainly do not.” He drank the whole mug down and then placed it back on the counter.

  “Well,” the innkeeper said, growing nervous. “What else can I assist ye with this fine day?”

  Sir Jessup smiled and leaned in. “Did they come through here?”

  The innkeeper felt his voice go dry. “I…I dinnae—”

  Sir Jessup subtly knocked the mug off of the counter and watched it smash into dozens of pieces on the floor. “My apologies,” he said. “Lies tend to make me…a wee bit jerky in my movements.”

  The innkeeper swallowed. “Sir,” he said, “I am nae sure—”

  “Do you know of a man named Lord Torstein?” Sir Jessup blurted.

  The innkeeper said nothing—but the pale look on his face said everything.

  “So, you do,” Sir Jessup said. “Thank you.”

  “I do, sir, but—”

  “He stayed here. With a woman. Did he not?”

  Again, the innkeeper said nothing—but the look on his face all but confirmed it.

  Sir Jessup leaned in closer. “I do not wish,” he said, “to have to burn your inn down, along with the rest of this village. I know that Lord Torstein was here. I am sure you have some kind of alliance with him…Tell me, what is your name?”

  The innkeeper cleared his throat. “Jonathan.”

  Sir Jessup’s eyes went wide. “Me as well! Can you imagine that? Well, Jonathan, I am not going to run around in circles with you. I know that you gave that man shelter, and possibly the Highlander woman that was with him. It’s okay. You can tell me that you did.”

  The innkeeper’s mouth opened, but no words evacuated.

  “Go on,” Sir Jessup insisted. “You can tell me.”

  The innkeeper closed his mouth—then he nodded.

  “Very good,” Sir Jessup said. “And I assume that it was not that long ago. Correct?”

  The innkeeper nodded again.

  “Good. Good. Now, tell me, Jonathan—where did they go? What are their intentions?”

  The innkeeper, trying to hold his ground for say of his friend Lord Torstein, couldn’t bring himself to say it. Sir Jessup, touching the man’s hand ever-so-lightly, said: “Tell me now, otherwise this place will be turned into ashes. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. So just tell us what we need to know, and we shall leave you in peace. Be smart, Jonathan. Do not do anything that will live with you for the rest of what I am sure is a very short life.”

  The innkeeper took a long moment. He thought of the men, women, and children in the village that would be harmed if he did not give the Sassenach knight what he wanted. After debating the greater good inside his head for several moments, he sighed, looked down, and said: “Alright…Alright, I shall tell you everything.”

  Sir Jessup flashed a smile and sensed the campaign he was on starting to enter the first stages of concluding. “Very good, Jonathan,” he said, patting the man’s hand. “Very good.”

  Chapter 28

  Finlay approached the cell. Christian stood up. They looked at one another for several moments before Finlay took out a key, inserted it into the lock, and opened the door. “Come with me,” he said as he turned away.

  Christian took his time before exiting his cell. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked.

  “Nae,” Finlay said. “But I will buy ye a drink.”

  Christian followed Finlay into the tavern and sat with him in the corner. Finlay grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two mugs, filling them three fingers with and offering one of the mugs to Christian.

  “Relax, Christian,” Finlay said as he swigged. “Ye hae nae reason tae fear.”

  Christian raised the mug to his lips. “You will forgive me if I am slightly reticent to take you at your word, considering all that I have been through.”

  A nod. “It is mair than understandable.”

  They sipped for a few moments, somewhat comfortably sharing the silence. Eventually, Christian inquired the obvious: “What is going to happen to me?”

  Finlay shrugged. “That is a decision that I will leave tae ye. I nae longer see it necessary tae execute ye.”

  Christian laughed. “Well, that is much appreciated.”

  “Obviously, we could benefit fae having yer knowledge. And yer sword. I am certain that an assault will be mounted on this village sometime soon.”

  Christian nodded. “I fear the same. And I will help you if you wish. I will more than happily stand by the Bairds if a fight should commence.”

  Finlay leaned in. “And what of Gavina?”

  Christian squinted. “What of Gavina?”

  “She confessed her love tae ye. Did she nae?”

  Christian nodded. “She did.”

  “And ye love her as well?” Finlay asked.

  Another nod from Christian. “But it is nae meant tae be.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Finlay said, “of the complications that have come about as the result of our love. It is too complicated a matter to further indulge.”

  “Love always is, Christian. It is never a simple matter.”

  “I was almost executed because of it,” Christian said.

  “Yet, Gavina’s love fer ye is what staved it. That and my discretion, of course.”

  A huff from Finlay. “Yes. Of course.”

  Finlay took another swig of his drink and perched forward. “Ye remind me of myself when I was yer age. It was nae long before I met me wife. We found ourselves engaged in a predicament nae fae from yer own. I thought the same things ye did—that it would nae work, that it was tantamount tae our destruction. Luckily, I was proven wrong.”

  “And you think that telling me this will somehow persuade me
to embrace my love with Gavina?”

  “Ye already hae. But noo ye try tae deny yerself of it. It will nae work. Trust me. I hae been down this road already.”

  Christian sighed. “What would you do if you were me?”

  Finlay shrugged, took a beat, and said: “Gae tae her. Quit denying yerself of what ye want.”

  Christian digested Finlay’s words for a long beat. He could hear the truth. He could feel himself doing what Gavina had done by trying to deny himself of what he clearly knew he wanted. After he finished his drink with Finlay, he stood, puffed his chest, and marched over to Gavina’s cabin.

  Gavina was seated by the window, resting her hand on her chin and looking out at the surroundings Highlands with a forlorn expression on her face. Two knocks sounded at the door.

  “Enter,” she said.

  Christian walked inside, and Gavina stood up immediately as she laid eyes on him.

  “Christian,” she said.

  Christian nodded. “Gavina.”

  A beat. “Are ye well?”

  “Yes, I am. I just…I wanted to speak with you.”

  She gestured to a chair. “Dae ye want tae sit?”

  “Yes. That would be lovely.” He moved to the chair and sat as Gavina took up the seat opposite him.

  “What is on yer mind?” Gavina inquired.

  “Many things. I just don’t know where to start.”

  “Ye can say whatever ye wish.”

  A beat. “I have been thinking. About you. About us. I…” the words evaded him.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. I am just scared, Gavina.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of what the future holds. Of my love for you. I do not want to deny myself the truth anymore, but I am more than worried of what might happen.”

  Gavina bit her lower lip, uncertain as to where the conversation was heading.

  “I understand,” she said, “if ye dinnae wish tae stay here.”

  Christian shook his head. “Quite the opposite, Gavina. I assure you. I have never…” he laughed, “I have never felt this way before about anyone.”

  She smiled. “Neither have I.”

  “And though I am fearful…I do not wish to run from my feelings. I want to stay here. With your clan. With you.”

  She smiled again.

  “I know,” Christian said, “that we have been through quite an ordeal. But I am more than willing to go through it ten times again if that means I can be with you.” He took her hand into his. “I love you, Gavina. More than I can express. And I hope…I hope that you can find it to forgive me for the words I spoke recently. They were not true. I swear it.”

  Gavina, feeling more elated than she ever had before, gently pressed her hand against Christian’s cheek. “There is nae apology that needs tae be made, me love.”

  They stared deeply into each other’s eyes for the longest of moments, waiting to see what would happen next as they beamed proudly. And then, seconds later, the invisible forces that drew them together made them lock their lips and begin feverishly tearing at one another’s clothing.

  They moved to the bedroom, Christian picked up Gavina and she locked her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. They kissed, holding onto the kiss for a long, passionate moment, as if the pressing of their mouths together supplied some kind of sustenance that would be lethal if they ever broke the kiss.

  They made it to the bed. Christian laid Gavina down on her back. He began kissing her neck as Gavina unhooked his belt and felt around for his manhood. She got a firm grip on him, smiling as she did so, eager to please him just as much as he was eager to please her.

  As Christian kissed Gavina from her neckline down to her waist, he stripped off every item of clothing she had. Gavina did the same, and both of them were nude before they even realized it.

  Christian then placed himself inside of Gavina, the two of them moaning in unison as he began thrusting to-and-fro. His paced quickened, and the two of them coiled their limbs around one another as they ground their waists together in unison.

  After a few minutes, Gavina placed Christian on his back and mounted him. She placed her hands on his bare chest for balance as she rode on top of him. The sensations they felt together were ones that felt equivalent to that of slipping into a warm bath, Gavina running her hands through her hair and nodding in approval as Christian cupped her breasts and massaged them ever-so delicately.

  They then laid on their sides. Christian began thrusting from behind, the two of them embracing in a hug as they held on tight and felt themselves pleasantly overwhelmed by the euphoria of what they were engaged in. It seemed as if the hours were no more than mere minutes as Christian began nibbling on Gavina’s neck as she thrusted. He knew from the giggles and moans she emitted that she more than approved of his technique.

  Ocne again, Christian placed Gavina on her back and began thrusting on top of her. They delicately touched their foreheads together, a light layer of perspiration accumulating as they felt their climaxes within just a short reach.

  “Faster,” Gavina said. “Gae faster…”

  Christian obliged, the two of them feeling a tingling sensation in their loins, a wave of explosive pleasure about to befall them both as they opened their mouths and nodded to the other that their moment was about to arrive.

  Christian thrust…and thrust…and thrust…His mouth was agape, his eyes closed tight as he felt himself on the cusp of collapsing…and then they finished, in unison, both of them crying out pleasantly as they laid on their backs and held each other in a warm embrace.

  Not a word was said as they laid back, the two of them staring into the other’s eyes as they exchanged a few kisses and watched as the golden rays of the setting sun turned pleasant shades of blue and black.

  Sir Jessup and Sir Renly were seated across from each other by the fire. The rest of the knights were gathered in small groupings throughout their temporary encampment, exchanging anecdotes as they sipped wine and consumed the meal that had been prepared an hour before.

  Sir Jessup, staring at the flagon of wine in his hand, felt as if his head was growing in size. It felt as if his copious consumptions of alcohol were finally getting the better of him.

  “Are you alright?” Sir Renly inquired.

  Sir Jessup huffed and tossed the wine aside. “Just a headache,” he replied.

  Sir Renly grabbed the leather canteen filled to the brim with water and passed it over. “Here. You should replenish your fluids.”

  Sir Jessup took the canteen and took a long hard gulp, refreshed at the fact that something else was in his system besides liquor.

  “How long,” Sir Renly said, “until you think we find the Bairds?”

  Sir Jessup sighed. “Soon,” he said. “I can sense it.”

  Sir Renly nodded. “Yes. I as well.”

  Silence.

  “You know,” Sir Renly said, “the Bairds will not surrender when we ask them to. You know this.”

  Sir Jessup nodded. “Yes…Yes, I suspect you may be right.”

  “We are not far away from engaging in battle. But I suspect you were aware of that as well.”

  Another nod. “Yes. That thought had occurred to me as well.”

  More silence. Sir Renly then said: “What would happen if we left?”

  Sir Jessup furled his brow. “As in?”

  “As in, we just leave. We put down our arms, never look back, ride across the Highlands and live life as simple men.”

  Sir Jessup smirked. “Marry some Highlander woman, correct? Settle down. Have a few children.”

  Sir Renly also smiled. “Yes. Exactly.”

  “And where would you settle?”

  Sir Renly drew a breath, turned his head to the night sky, and pondered. “I would be a farmer. Yes, that sounds splendid. I would farm. I would have a family. I would live the rest of my days in peace and never think back to these dire times.”

  Sir Jessup sat back. “An appea
ling fantasy.”

  “Perhaps it is one that is not far off from being acquired.”

  Sir Jessup sighed. “No,” he said. “As intriguing as the thought may be, that is not the life we are meant to live. Our fates will end only one way—on the field of battle.” He shook his head. “And I pray that we are wrong about our instincts telling us that the Bairds will fight us instead of surrender.”