Highlander's Sacrifice: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance

by Alisa Adams

  As if she thought them a teasing sort of chastisement, she took a step towards him, staring at his mouth. Her eyes were still dark, still clouded by her first taste of passion.

  Finn took another step away from her.

  This time, she stilled. Wounded hurt flickered over her face, all etiquette and careful decorum lost under the cover of darkness. Finn felt something inside his chest break a little. He would do anything not to see that look upon her features again.

  “We cannot...my lady.” He forced the title to re-establish some boundaries—boundaries he hated and immediately wanted to tear down with his bare hands.

  But Merith was a woman of worth and a lady of the aristocracy. She deserved a man of equal standing. Someone she could be proud of, standing beside her.

  “We need rest and we need food,” he told her, trying to play the respectful gentleman while his hands still itched to touch her. He busied them by refastening the bird at his hip. “In the morning we’ll head back to your father’s estate.”

  Having established the plan, both to her and to himself, Finn turned and headed in the direction of the dark shadow that was the straw shelter. He could see the dappled grey of Ajax’s coat growing larger the closer he got but it was only when he was close enough to see the old boy’s eyes staring out at him that Finn realized something.

  As he had cut off all desirous connection between the two of them, Merith had not made a single word of protest.

  Until now, Merith had had no idea that emotions could be physical pains. She knew that sorrow made one cry and joy had one smiling, but surely the more complex feelings of ambivalence and insecurity could not affect her so?

  Apparently, they could.

  Ever since she had kissed Finn the night before, her stomach had been in knots.

  She had felt guilt and shame and embarrassment in their own turns since she had met Finn. She had agonized over the way her own fears had brought him into her world, forcing him to play the shield to both her sensitivities and her life. But she had not yet experienced humiliation to the extent that it felt like a dagger to the belly.

  The scene recurred in her head over and again. The way she had launched into his arms, how she had kissed him as if she had every confidence in herself and right to do so. How he had pushed her away, indefatigably denying what she had felt sparking between them.

  Oh, but that kiss...

  Merith closed her eyes. Her hand moved to her neck as she turned her chin in and felt the warmth rise in her cheeks. Her lashes fluttered up and she tried to keep her vision focused on the neck of the horse, shifting up and down with every step.

  Never before had she kissed a man, and yet she had hankered upon the stories told by those that had. Servants, maids, her sisters...they all spoke as if kisses were something sweet and tender, innocent and gentle. The way Finn had kissed her had been anything but. His hands had taken her face, his mouth had claimed hers. If it hadn't been for the number of times he had safely held her life in his hands over the past three days, he might have frightened her with his intensity. He had kissed her with a possessiveness that she had assumed to mean passion. She had thought him desiring of her as a woman, not just as the fine lady that he was duty bound to protect.

  Then again, perhaps she had been mistaken.

  Not exactly experienced, Merith had been lost to her own instincts the moment her lips had found Finn's. As soon as their touches became entangled and she had been hanging on to his frame. Her thoughts had become hazy, burnt away by the sizzle that had run back and forth beneath her skin. She hadn't been focusing; she hadn't been thinking. It had all just been a single overwhelming experience of wild excitement and the constant desire for more heat.

  Such a foggy head was hardly the tool with which to assess those around her. Perhaps she had misread Finn's reaction.

  Had his hands been moving to try and push her face away? Had he been caught in a sleepy moment of confusion? Had he simply taken what was on offer and, upon remembering who those lips belonged to, cooled to a state of rejection?

  The very idea had Merith's middle cramping like she had eaten something moldy. With every recollection of her childish idiocy, the abandon with which she had flung herself at him, she felt a cold sweat break over her skin. Her shoulder's tightened, her chest felt blocked, and she felt the need to sing or hum to shut out the thoughts that replayed her humiliation over and again.

  Now, as if she needed any further clarification of his distaste with her, Finn refused to ride the horse alongside her.

  When he had saddled Ajax that morning and aided her into the seat, Merith had shifted forward so there was space behind her. Finn had simply turned away, packed up the camp, and took up his place at Ajax's head leading him by the reins. Merith was left atop the creature alone.

  An untouched virgin upon a lonely pedestal of disregard.

  Swallowing, Merith fiddled with a little braid she had constructed from Ajax's mane. The black strands, wound and woven into shape, shone in the sunlight. Finn must be a good owner, keeping the horse healthy even in war and skirmish.

  Just like he had seen to her food the night before. For that was, apparently, what Merith was to Finn. Another duty. A mare, to drag about.

  Feeling her lower lip pout, Merith tried to shake her thoughts away. There was no need to be so childish. Instead of crumbling into a state of tears and self-flagellation, she focused her fingers on Ajax’s hair and worked another braid into shape. It was easier to focus on so small a task than to continuously stare at the back of Finn's neck. He hadn't turned around once since they had begun their journey at sunrise.

  Unfortunately, a poor night's sleep did not aid in a woman's self-control.

  By the time Finn's catch the night before had been plucked, cooked, and consumed, there had been only a handful of hours until daybreak. Yet, they had passed with all the speed of an eternity. Refusing to share the blanket she had laid on the makeshift bed, Finn had laid with his back to her, giving a quality impression of a statue. Within minutes, his breathing had become the slow and steady rhythm of sleep, and she had been left alone in the dark of the night. Despite there being only a smattering of inches between them, she had felt as if he were a million miles away. The rest of the night had passed with her curled on her side, watching the way his back shifted as he breathed and praying for sleep that only came in fits and spurts.

  Now, her tiredness was making her edgy, and Finn's dismissive attitude only edgier.

  "Where are we going?" she asked him, flinching when she heard the bite in her tone.

  Finn glanced back over his shoulder, a brow rising in bemusement.

  "I told you, back to your father's."

  "How do you know that we’re headed in the correct direction?"

  The infuriating man had the gall to shrug!

  "We're heading south. As soon as we meet a town or farmhouse, we'll stop and ask them to point us in the right direction."

  He made it sound so simple. They would just ask. They would just walk in a general direction and ask at a given opportunity. What about where they would sleep? How they would eat? What about the fact that she had not seen a bath in several days? That her bottom hurt with sores from the saddle? What if they were attacked or robbed? What if the snow set in and they froze to death in the woodlands?

  The fact that Finn had singlehandedly seen them out of almost every one of those fears already didn't seem to matter. In fact, his efficiency and skill for self-preservation and the protection of others only made her more annoyed. He worked so hard to ensure that she received no more than a bad night's sleep on a physical level, and yet he had trampled her self-esteem underfoot without a second thought!

  Snapping her teeth closed and refusing to allow such grumbles to leave her head, Merith only glared at the back of Finn's head. She had a secret moment of satisfaction when he had to reach around and rub at the back of his hair, like he felt her judgment.

  As the sun progressively rose and t
hen sunk in the sky, Merith was thankful for the cooling of her anger. Though her poor night's slumber had made her grouchy, that same lack of sleep now leeched her muscles of the will to fight. Given that upsetting Finn was the last thing she truly wanted to do, Merith was thankful for the languid stupor that washed over her and sent her into a doze upright in the saddle.

  The next thing she knew, there was a soft voice and the gentle brush of fingers on her leg.

  Merith jumped and sat bolt upright, her neck snapping painfully and her lashes blinking apart with confusion.

  The entire world had changed.

  When she had fallen asleep, the path they traveled had been more dirt than it was road. Firs and forestry had risen on either side of them, blocking the sweeping shape of the land and ensuring that their view of the horizon was entirely masked. She had smelled the winter foliage, and there had been a chill in the air, seeping into her clothes and skin. Even with the woolen blanket pulled tight around her, Merith's little body had been slowly turning to ice.

  Now, all was different.

  Ajax shifted his stance, the street beneath them manmade and defined with slabs. On either side of her, the trees had been replaced with buildings, bright lights in their windows, and the colors of flickering candles upon their shades. None of them were large, and most were crafted from wood over rock, but they were the first signs of pleasant life Merith had seen in what felt like forever. Even the air in which they stood was warmer. No longer out alone in the woods, the general human colonization of such a place shooed away the cold of winter. Warmth and the smells of freshly cooked meats rolled from an open door just a foot ahead of them.

  With eyes wide and her mouth already set to water, Merith looked down as Finn nudged at her, assuring himself that she was awake. He had brought them to a tavern, a place in which they could convalesce.

  Merith felt her heart lift and her muscles call out in need. She would never be so glad to see a real cushion in her life!

  Scrambling down from Ajax's back, Merith half fell and half stumbled in her haste to go inside. But she held no fear because, regardless of the awkward encounter of the previous day, there was an easy sense of utter trust between her and Finn.

  Merith had the suspicion that she could dive from the top of the highest mountain in Scotland and she would still fall into the waiting arms of the man that had brought her to this place. He would still be there, ready and waiting, regardless.

  Finn would always keep her safe.

  And yet, as he set her gently on the ground, not even the touch of Finn's large and warm hands could distract Merith from that open doorway. She was already headed in that direction, when a servant appeared to tend to Ajax and Finn was forced to yank his saddlebags and weaponry from the creature’s back quickly if he aimed to follow her inside. Forgetting any form of danger that could be lurking in the home of wanderers, Merith was too lulled by the temptation of warmth, food, and a bed to heed Finn's calls for her to wait.

  Inside, the inn was everything that Merith had expected, and nothing with which she was familiar. Men and women sat around little tables in the open common room, drinking back tubs of mead. A boy in too-small clothes with an unflattering haircut darted amongst the tables clearing plates and refreshing cups.

  There was a fire burning in the large hearth to the left, but it was the people that made the room feel cozy. They mumbled and murmured to one another, creating a low hum about the place, their very bodies making the room feel smaller and less daunting than she would have imagined. The entire space was only a third of the size of her father's dining chamber and yet it held more people than had ever sat at her parents’ invitation.

  Stopping at the threshold, Merith was looking about and wondering what to do, when a large presence was felt at her side, and she knew her big guard dog had appeared. Finn touched her shoulder, and she felt his breath against her neck, as he leaned in to murmur beside her ear.

  "We will not be able to afford rooms here. We'll have some decent food and then find somewhere else to stay."

  Every bit of her wanted to protest that decision, but Merith knew little about money. She was fully aware that her family possessed a substantial amount of it, but she had no idea about how it was used and valued. She could not blame the owners of such an establishment placing high prices for their services. For, right now, the concept of a comfortable bed and a well-cooked meal was surely the most invaluable thing in the world?

  Finn knew he was in trouble.

  In the corner of the tavern's common room, he sat across from Merith as she attacked a plate of potatoes, pork, and rice. She seemed to care nothing for her appearance, the half-starved manner in which she ate, or the fact that a piece of rice had become stuck to the end of her little nose. In fact, she seemed to have let go of so many of her cares that Finn was half convinced he was now looking at the woman beneath the silks.

  Turning his gaze away and to the flames that wiggled and twisted in the hearth, Finn reminded himself sternly that it was a bad idea to think of Merith and what lay beneath her dresses, metaphorically or otherwise. It had taken all that he had to stay away from her the previous night. Then, when internal chatter and threats had started to wear thin, he had been forced to create mental bindings to wrap around his arms and legs, as he feigned sleep.

  Every instinct of his body had demanded that he roll over and scoot himself close to her back. He could just imagine how she would have fitted, small and sleek against his chest, her bottom resting against his thighs. His body had stirred and hardened, keeping him awake all night.

  Worse still, his back now ached and his feet were sore, having walked the entire day. There was no way he could have sat behind the lovely Merith, his groin against her rear and her sweet-smelling hair in his nose. If their kiss had shocked her last night, then she would have thought him a crazed animal, half rutting against her back.

  Which, given the way she had curled herself into the tightest ball possible and refused to come near him all night, was clearly the last thing she wanted.

  As the twilight hours had brightened and the sun had moved to rise above the field, Finn had come to the easy conclusion that Merith had been caught up in the moment. A young woman, far from home and frightened out of her mind would, of course, latch on to the first real sense of safety she was given. And Finn was that safety.

  At least, he would be if he could make sure that he didn't become the danger instead.

  Turning to his own plate, Finn tried to keep his mind on the mashed potatoes.

  "Excuse me."

  Finn looked up at the sound of Merith's voice, beckoning to the landlady that had spent most of her time behind the bar serving the local drunks. The woman was broad in the hips but otherwise pleasantly proportioned, and walked with the sort of attitude that warned men of her sassiness. The angle of her head and the fire in her eyes told of a long history tending to the men of the town and abroad. There was no messing with a female like that.

  To Merith, however, she was sweetness itself. Clearly, the woman had taken one look at the dusty film of mud that caked the two of them from head to foot, sized-up the tiny dot that was Merith, and was unable to suppress her maternal instincts. Her lashes fluttered and her large mouth broadened into a smile that sparked dimples in her cheeks.

  "Yes, sweetheart?" she asked.

  "What does it cost to stay here?"

  In asking the question, Merith pulled a silver ring from one of her fingers and held it up to the light. The orange glow of the fire set the black onyx rippling with color and sparked shafts of white off the silver.

  Finn looked at the jewel and then spied another on her other hand. He realized, as if for the first time, that her neck bore a little silver cross and one of her ears still held an earring, its pair lost in the chaos of the last few days. It was odd that Finn had stopped noticing such details, his focus always drawn to the pretty girl beneath the decorations.

  The landlady's eyes widened as she stare
d down at the ring. Her eyes were hungry but her tongue wet her lips in a nervous desire to be truthful.

  "If that be real silver, miss, ye can have anything you want," she told her. "We've got one room left upstairs if ye and yer husband are wanting to stay."

  Finn watched as Merith's face flushed that pretty shade of pink again. She recovered quickly, however, handing the piece of jewelry over and sealing the bargain before Finn could splutter his protests.

  "You cannot just hand across your valuables, Merith," he chastised, chewing over a piece of pork rump with sullen disapproval. Her stare flashed back at him.

  "I would rather lose a ring than sleep another night out in the cold."

  There was little Finn could argue to that. But still, he was not about to leave her alone.

  "I shan't sleep in the stables, my lady," he warned her.

  "I was not expecting you to." The pert little rise in her chin gave her a sense of arrogant might but it suited her so ill that it fell away quickly. Beneath it, Merith's natural honesty and compassion began to shine through. Her next words were quiet, soft, and affectionate. A confession that, by all rights, should only come from a lover.

  "I would not wish to see the night through without you."

  Finn swallowed.

  Yes, he thought. I was right.

  He was in a spectacular amount of trouble.

  13

  Despite wishing for the soft bed waiting in the room above their heads, neither Merith nor Finn seemed willing to retire to it. Merith wasn't sure if Finn was avoiding the eventual awkwardness of them sleeping in the same chamber—perhaps in the same bed—or if he genuinely enjoyed the stories she was telling him.

  Over the course of dinner, Finn had initially been quiet. As plates became empty and cups started to dry up, the natural inclination for sleep was dawning upon the both of them. And suddenly, Finn had become chatty. He had asked her about her childhood, about her parents, had questions about her sisters. He wanted to know what she did with her days, seeming truly confused as to the life of a noblewoman.