“Welcome home, laird,” called one silver-haired man as he stepped out of his hut. “’Tis a grand day to be a MacIntyre!”
“Hail our laird,” yelled a young lad from the shore of the loch as he tugged a small fishing boat behind him. “The man who defeated all comers, including the MacDonald. Cruachan!”
A small boy bounded up. “Is this the new Lady of Glennoe, laird? The one who fights with swords?”
Isla leaned down. “Aye, laddie. I am Isla MacIntyre, formerly a Sutherland. Do you like my fine clothes?”
The boy’s eyes bulged, a huge grin split his face, then he turned and called to a group of other lads behind him: “It’s true! The lady wears hose!”
Abruptly the crowd parted to reveal his mother in a deep blue gown and silver girdle, her fair hair unbound and fluttering in the wind. “My son.”
Callum dismounted from his horse, assisted Isla down onto the ground, then strode forward to take a knee for her blessing. “Mother. I am glad you are well. When I saw the gathering…”
Maude rested a hand on his head, murmuring words in a language he did not know, before tugging him to his feet. “Let me look at you.”
“Aye.” Callum stood still at the familiar command, and she clasped his face in her hands, her violet gaze searing into his soul. Then she dipped into a curtsy.
“All is well,” said his mother with a sage nod, a beaming smile lighting up her face. “And all will be well. Now, introduce me to your wife.”
Callum held out his hand, and Isla walked over to join him. His mother’s eyes softened as she looked Isla up and down, before clasping her face in the same manner.
“Ah, yes,” she murmured. “A fierce and loving heart. You are most welcome here, Lady of Glennoe. God’s blessings upon you this day and all those to come. But you require shirt and hose to fit, so visit me in the solar this night for wine and comfits and I will take your measurements. We shall have such fun, you and I. A daughter at last. My heart is full.”
“Thank you, lady,” said Isla, her voice quavering a little.
“Maude. Or Mother.”
“Thank you…Mother.”
Callum cleared his throat, before he joined the two women in gaining misty eyes. “I ask that you also bid Alastair welcome, Mother. Alastair MacIntyre.”
Maude beckoned Alastair closer, and he took a knee in front of her. She took his chin in her hand, tilting it this way and that, before placing her hand atop his head. Then she turned to Callum. “Tis long past time you claimed the son I found, Callum. Long past time. Welcome home, Alastair MacIntyre.”
Callum stilled, staring at his mother. She stared right back, one haughty eyebrow raised, all the knowledge in the world gleaming in her eyes. For they both knew she meant far more with the word claimed than Alastair having a permanent home with the clan.
“I…er…yes. Foolish,” he replied. “But that mistake has been mended, and forgiveness granted. As you said, all is well. Now we must rest, after a week’s tourney and two-day ride from Stirling.”
Maude winked. “Indeed. Rest, my dears. I shall enjoy hearing all about the tourney in time. Especially how you defeated Rory MacDonald in a swordfight.”
He nodded. “I promise you will. Almost every detail. Then perhaps you’ll tell us what debt the king owed you.”
“I promise I will. Almost every detail. Now go. Rest.”
Callum held out his left arm for Isla to take. Then he rested his right at the small of Alastair’s back, and they made their way into the castle as the trio that they were.
Home.
They were finally home to the place that would witness their family, their children and their joy in the many years to come. But best of all it would witness the powerful love between a shy and scholarly laird who had found strength, a bold lady swordfighter who had found acceptance, and a brawny orphaned squire who had found his place in the world.
All was well.
All would be well.
Love had declared it so.
THE END
Author’s notes
In real life, the branch of the MacDonald clan near the MacIntyres lived at Glen Coe. To avoid confusion with Glennoe, I changed to Carnoch. (Upper and Lower Carnoch are roads in Glencoe village.)
While cunt and fuck may sound modern, they are both ancient words and the meaning of either has not changed. Cunt was first recorded in England in 1230, a street in the red light district of Southwark, London (Gropecuntelane!) It was commonly used and appeared in both dictionaries and medical texts. Fuck was first recorded in Scotland in 1500 as part of a ‘flyting’ duel (a verbal smackdown battle) between leading poets William Dunbar and Walter Kennedy in the court of James IV.
Textbooks/sites/articles/ I used in my research:
A Curious History of Sex, by Dr. Kate Lister
Scotland: A Concise History by Fitzroy Maclean
The Sword's Path – expert demonstrations of longsword fighting techniques on YouTube
Fighting to Win: the art of sword combat in the early modern period by Danièle Cybulskie
Sword fighting and training basics for beginners
www.swordscholar.com
www.thearma.org
www.medievalwarfare.info/weapons
Highland Games traditions
Archery by Paul E. Klopsteg
List of herbs in the National Library of Medicine herb garden
Africans at the court of James IV by Jennifer Melville
www.stirlingcastle.scot
www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/stirling/stirlingcastle
Also by Nicola Davidson
Regency full length
Wickedly Wed series
Duke in Darkness (#1)
The London Lords series
To Love a Hellion (#1)
Rake to Riches (#2)
Tempting the Marquess (#3)
Regency novellas
Fallen trilogy
Surrender to Sin (#1)
The Devil's Submission (#2)
The Seduction of Viscount Vice (#3)
Surrey SFS quintet
My Lady's Lover (#1)
To Tame a Wicked Widow (#2)
My Lord, Lady, and Gentleman (#3)
At His Lady's Command (#4)
A Very Surrey SFS Christmas (#5)
Surrey SFS - The Complete Series boxset
Regency Standalones
Her Virgin Duke
Duke for Hire (in the anthology Duke I’d Like to F…)
Mistletoe Mistress
Joy to the Earl
Once Upon a Promise
Medieval Scotland
Highland Ménage series
Scandalous Passions (FFM)
Wicked Passions (MMF)
Tudor novellas
His Forbidden Lady
One Forbidden Knight
Contemporary
Ladies First (erotic short stories)
About the Author
NICOLA DAVIDSON worked for many years in media and government communications, but hasn’t looked back since she decided writing erotic historical romance was infinitely more fun. When not chained to a computer she can be found ambling along one of New Zealand’s beautiful beaches, cheering on the All Blacks rugby team, history geeking on the internet, or daydreaming. If this includes dessert—even better!
Keep up with Nicola’s news on Twitter (@NicolaMDavidson) Facebook (Nicola Davidson—Author) Instagram (@NicolaDauthor) or her website www.nicola-davidson.com
Wicked Passions (Highland Menage Book 1) Page 17
