Lady Fiona's Refuge (Ladies of Ardena Book 3)

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by Rachel Skatvold




  Lady Fiona’s

  Refuge

  Ladies of Ardena

  Book Three

  RACHEL SKATVOLD

  LADY FIONA’S REFUGE

  Copyright © 2019 Rachel Skatvold

  ISBN: 9781701923584

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. Published by Rachel Skatvold.

  Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version. Public Domain.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations or events is coincidental.

  Edited by: Lisa M. Prysock

  Proofread by: Joy Davidson

  Author Photo: Jennifer Davidson

  Cover Design: Erin Dameron-Hill

  For more information on Rachel Skatvold, please visit her website: www.rachelskatvold.com

  DEDICATION

  For Alaina.

  Your bright smile and sweet personality are such an

  encouragement and blessing to others. Keep shining the light God has given you.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  As always, there are so many people involved in putting a book together and I would like to take a moment to thank them.

  First of all, thank you to God for placing this story in my heart. The characters in this book have taught me so much about trusting God even through the toughest trials and making him my refuge.

  Second, thank you for those who helped with the publication process. I so appreciate the amazing job done by my editor, Lisa M. Prysock, my proofreader and mom, Joy Davidson and Erin Dameron-Hill for the lovely cover art. Also, thanks to my sister, Jenny Davidson for taking my author photo and my uncle, David Webster for your knowledge about genealogy and Ireland.

  A big thanks to some special ladies in my reader’s group: Susan, Sharon, Linda, Dorothy, Natalya, Merrie, Katie, Patti, Sara. Sarah P., Halita, Sarah T., Michelle, Arletta, Debbie, Denise, Rory, Teri and Carol for participating in my character naming contest. The names you chose are amazing and I loved using them in the story!

  Last but not least, thank you to my husband, John, my kids, my extended family and church family for all your love and support. Also, I’d like to give a shout out to my beta readers, reviewers and loyal readers waiting patiently for the next book to come out. You all are such an encouragement and I appreciate you.

  Blessings!

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you for reading the third book in the Ladies of Ardena Series! You are about to embark on an incredible journey with Lady Fiona, Princess of Brannagh, filled with adventure, danger, love and faith. However, before you embark on this journey, there are a few things I would like to share with you to make your reading experience more enjoyable.

  I have wanted to write a historical novel set in a place similar to Ireland for a while because of my Irish heritage, so I was excited when this story idea materialized. Ardena is not a real place—only a figment of my imagination—but has been inspired by Irish and Scottish culture and history.

  To make the story more authentic, there are Irish and Scottish words used for character names, and places throughout the story. If you would like to check pronunciations and meanings for these words, I have included them in the back of the book. There is also a map of Ardena and a family lineage page to discover the connections between the different kingdoms in Ardena and how the characters are related. It will grow as the series progresses.

  Thank you for reading, Lady Fiona’s Refuge and I hope you enjoy! Blessings.

  Rachel

  “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah.” ~ Psalm 46:1-3

  Prologue

  Dóchas Forest

  Kingdom of Brannagh, Ardena

  Spring, 1188 AD

  The pain seized Fiona’s abdomen with a vice grip and then radiated through her entire body. She opened her mouth to scream, but bit her lip instead. She could not risk making a sound.

  Fiona curled into a tight ball while peeking through the holes in the thick brush they hid behind. Her mother’s gentle hand on her back brought a small measure of comfort as three pair of boots came and left a few moments later.

  A light rain permeated the air with a calming earthy smell. Then the pain lessened for a moment. Perhaps they had made it—perhaps they had successfully escaped from her uncle’s fortress after all. Fiona’s memory transported her back to the night after discovering she was with child—the same night her husband had died at the hands of the rioters who invaded the southern fortress. She’d been hiding in the wardrobe and they hadn’t found her. She had felt God’s presence so closely with her that night—and now she felt it again—this time when her child was about to come into the world.

  Thank you, God, she prayed while holding her hand over her abdomen. You have delivered us from harm once again.

  “I think they’ve passed,” her sister-in-law, Airell whispered, bringing Fiona out of the memory.

  A few twigs snapped as Airell’s maid, Isla, peeked over the bushes. Then a deafening scream pierced the air. The cacophony that followed, made Fiona squeeze her eyes shut. The pain returned—full force and she tried to block it out—block everything in the world out. She was back in the wardrobe—back where she felt safe in spite of the chaos around her.

  The next time Fiona opened her eyes, she was being lifted upward and placed in front of a man on a horse. She flinched as he wrapped his arms around her, believing him to be the rioters or even worse—her husband. Perhaps he had discovered her secret hiding place. She quivered in fear. What punishment would he have in store for her now? It had been foolish to hide from him. He always found her eventually.

  “Shh…please try to relax,” a deep voice whispered and the man tucked her head under his chin. “You’re safe now.” The simple words of reassurance vibrated through his chest. He couldn’t be her husband. His voice had never been soothing—his touch never gentle. This man was different and she relaxed against him in an instant, listening to the steady beat of his heart and his foreign accent. A horse shifted beneath them and Fiona phased in and out as the branches and leaves of the dense forest passed by in the dim morning light. When another labor pain struck her, Fiona’s body stiffened and a groan escaped her lips.

  “You must breathe, Your Majesty,” The man murmured softly. “Holding your breath will only make you feel faint.”

  She listened to his advice and breathed through the tight pain until it lessened. It did make a difference and after a few moments she could speak again. “What is your name, Milord?”

  “Leland of Kiely,” he replied as they continued traveling.

  “Most men do not have knowledge of such things. How did you come by it?”

  “I was present at my sister’s birth.”

  Fiona nodded and thanked him, comforted by his experience. She became aware they had separated from Airell and her maid, but her mother remained close, speaking words of encouragement.

  A little while later, she heard a panting noise and glanced down, catching a hint of gray fur. She recoiled and held onto Leland tighter. “What is that?”

  A light chuckled rumbled from his chest. “Do not fear, Princess. ‘Tis only m
y wolfhound, Artair. He’s completely harmless…unless he feels I am in danger. He will protect us.”

  She nodded and tried to relax again, but as time went on, the labor pains increased, making it harder to talk. It wasn’t the ideal situation to be on a horse in her delicate condition. However, she tried to concentrate on other things like the smell of flowers in the forest and remembering happier times growing up with her brother, Tiernay. They spent much time by the harbor in their kingdom, watching the seals and puffins on the beach. It was her favorite pastime. Now she didn’t know if her brother lived or had perished at the hands of their uncle, King Malcolm.

  “We’re almost to Dóchas,” Leland’s voice assured, breaking through her thoughts. “There is a midwife in the village. Just try to hold on a little while longer.”

  She nodded against him and grimaced when another pain tightened through her abdomen. Leland started to pray out loud as they journeyed on and his soothing voice kept her calm while they traveled up an incline and down again. Then the wall surrounding the village came into view. Soon they stopped moving and everything happened in a haze. She was helped off the horse, carried into a tent and then placed on a small cot.

  “You’re going to be fine, Your Majesty,” Leland whispered. She caught a brief glimpse of his kind brown eyes in the dim light before Fiona’s mother rushed to her side. Then in an instant, he was gone.

  Leland sat on the sandy shore in Solas Harbor while petting Artair. The feeling of the dog’s warmth and his wiry gray fur brought him comfort while watching the waves glistening in the afternoon sun. He had returned with Fiona and her mother only three weeks before with hope in his heart, but now the weight of the world had settled onto his shoulders. His cousin, King Tristan, was presumed dead after the Battle of Brannagh. He had searched along the coast for him since returning, but to no avail. The new king of the realm hailed his cousin a hero for defeating the Dark Lord, yet it provided little consolation for him. Leland feared the worst might have happened to his cousin, but he refused to give up hope. There had to be someone who knew what had happened to Tristan. Tomorrow he would leave Solas and expand his search. He would ask King Tiernay for a few additional men to help.

  His thoughts were interrupted when Artair started to whine. Then he heard a delicate feminine voice behind him. “Forgive the intrusion, Milord. My brother asked me to invite you to supper this evening.”

  Leland stood from the beach and turned toward the voice, smiling after seeing Fiona, cradling her newborn daughter in her arms. Her gown was burgundy that day and she and had her long chestnut hair gathered into two braids. Fiona was even more breathtaking than usual with the afternoon sun bringing out the crimson tones in her hair.

  He nodded in agreement, not wanting to turn down the king’s request a third time that week. “I would be delighted to join your family for supper tonight.”

  She rewarded him with a rare smile, but it was soon replaced with her usual stoic expression “Wonderful. He will be delighted to hear it.” Clare started to whimper and she tried rocking her from side to side. “I will take my leave then and see you this evening.” She curtsied and turned to walk away.

  He reached for her elbow. “Princess Fiona, wait.”

  She flinched and turned back to him, drawing in a shaky breath. “Y-yes, Milord?”

  “I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She nodded, but the fear in her eyes lingered for a moment. They had grown closer during the past weeks, but he had yet to discover what made her so fearful around men. Now wasn’t the appropriate time to ask and he offered her a gentle smile instead. “I wanted to tell you something before you leave…” He was interrupted by Clare’s progressively louder cries.

  Fiona looked up at him with an apologetic frown and tried to soothe her daughter again. “She’s about ready to nap.”

  He grinned and touched the baby’s downy head of brown hair. “It’s quite all right. May I try?” Fiona nodded and handed the baby to him. He shifted Clare in his arms until her head rested against his shoulder. Then he gently patted her back. Within about a minute she stopped crying and her head felt heavy against his shoulder.

  Fiona stared at him in wonder. “You are a miracle worker, Milord. She usually fusses for much longer before giving in.”

  He shook his head and let out a light chuckle while continuing to pat the baby’s back. “‘Twas most likely the change in position or she wore herself out by crying.”

  She shook her head. “I believe you are a natural.”

  He shrugged and held the infant for a little while longer before carefully transferring her back into Fiona’s arms. “My father died when I was a young man of fourteen. I helped my mother raise my younger sister from birth until they moved to the Órlaithan court for her formal education last year. She reminds me of Isla—so high spirited, even at such a tender age.”

  “Yes, I recognize her strong will already.” She adjusted Clare into a more comfortable position. “So, what did you wish to speak with me about?”

  He paused and looked down at the ground before speaking. “I will be leaving Solas soon.”

  She paused and her voice came out like a wisp of the wind. “For how long?”

  “I believe my cousin still lives and must continue my search. Afterwards, I will return to Kiely. I have already been absent for too long.”

  When he looked up again, tears clouded her eyes. “So, I shall not be seeing you again?”

  “I’m uncertain where this journey will lead, Your Majesty. However, I do not believe God would bring you and Clare into my life, only to part forever. One day my journeys will lead me back here again. I believe it with all my heart.”

  “Aye, Milord,” she whispered, rewarding him with another hint of a smile. “I pray it to be so.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Royal Guests

  Solas Fortress

  Kingdom of Brannagh, Ardena

  Summer, 1190 AD

  Fiona let out a trembling breath, watching out her chamber window as people flooded the courtyard below. It was a joyous time for the kingdom—a celebration of the peace they had enjoyed since her brother reclaimed his throne. However, to the princess, the crowds of people posed a threat to her fragile sense of security.

  A click of the door sounded and then a familiar little voice called, “Mama!”

  The tension eased from Fiona’s body as she turned and saw her two-year-old daughter toddling toward her, chestnut ringlets bouncing. “Good morning, my darling,” she crooned while leaning down and swooping Clare into her arms. She nodded to her daughter’s nurse standing in the doorway, indicating her appreciation and dismissing her to go about her usual duties at the same time.

  Alone in the room with her daughter, Fiona walked back to the window. With Clare clinging to her like a barnacle and nuzzling her head against Fiona’s shoulder, her apprehension faded away. This was where she belonged. Why venture outside today when Clare needed her so?

  After a few moments, her daughter became restless and Fiona let her down, watching as she scurried to the corner of the room to play with her favorite cloth dolls. Joy filled her heart, watching her daughter. During her early pregnancy, Fiona feared she would be unable to bond with her child if she bore any resemblance to her late husband. However, now Fiona could not imagine having such a thought. True, Clare had Cadman’s ears and his dimpled chin, but from the moment she felt her little angel’s fluttering kicks inside her belly, Fiona had fallen in love. She discovered a mother’s love could span above even the deepest and darkest past hurts. When she looked at her, she only saw her beautiful and sweet daughter. She was a bright light in her life—a precious and unexpected gift from God.

  Fiona spent some time on the rug with Clare and her treasured dolls before there was another knock on the door. After giving permission for the guest to enter, her brother came into her chambers.

  “Unca Tee Nay!” Clare squealed with delight and dashed toward him. Tiernay chuckled at the nickname
and spun the little girl around in a circle until giggles bubbled out of her mouth. He kissed Clare’s cheek before putting her down to play.

  Fiona stood from the rug and smoothed out her skirts. “Good morning, Brother. I thought you would already be out enjoying the festivities with Airell.”

  “I will shortly. However, I wish to speak with you about something before I go.” He motioned toward the chairs by the hearth. “Shall we sit for a moment?”

  Fiona agreed and they sat across from each other. She furrowed her brow. “Has something gone amiss? Has there been news of Lord Fergus nearby?”

  He shook his head. “No, ‘tis nothing of that nature.”

  “Oh, good.” She breathed a sigh of relief. There had been rumors of the defeated usurper of South Rhona still seeking her hand in marriage, but he hadn’t been seen or heard from in over a year. She managed to slow her rapid heartbeat and smile. “What is it then?”

  He sighed while leaning over and reaching for her hand. A few years ago, she may have flinched, but now she had grown use to physical contact, at least with her family members. “I would like to request your presence at the festivities tomorrow.” She started to pull away before he stopped her. “Now, please hear me out before making your decision. Our people want to see you. They want to become acquainted with their princess. Unity is what we need in our kingdom now and seeing you would show the people that. It would only be for one event. You can sit with Airell and I. Our Cousin, Ewan and his family should have arrived by then as well.”

  “I see,” she said, sitting back in her chair and thinking for a moment. “Which event?”

 

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