Highlander's Sacrifice: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance

by Alisa Adams

  "I do look at you."

  "When you must. But..."

  How was she to explain? If he truly did not know, what was she to say to describe this distance that only she saw? Perhaps she was wrong. Was it normal for a man to wish to leave his lover's bed so quickly? Had she satisfied him to the point where he saw no reason to linger?

  In the end, Merith fell quiet. She had not the experience nor the gift with words to be able to speak of such things. She could only put faith in Finn. Hopefully, he would be more like himself by the time they reached another tavern for the night…

  Such a chance was not afforded to Merith, however. They did not stop at another tavern. Nor did their journey continue another day, in which she could reach out to the man lost in his own thoughts.

  Instead, as the sun was beginning to descend in the sky, reaching for the tops of a thatch of woodland that looked oddly familiar, Merith realized that they were approaching her father's estates, not a single day since they had left the heat of their shared bed.

  Panic shot across Merith's nerves. She had been prepared to speak with her parents, to try and have them see the truth and strength of her feelings for the man bringing her home, that had kept her safe all this time. But confronted with such a conversation earlier than planned, Merith was shaken. Though her own feelings were certain, her heart already set, she had yet to establish Finn's and had not built walls of resilience in her character. She was not prepared to take on her father's obstinate sense of propriety and expectation. Not yet.

  And yet, God had decided that such a time was now.

  Whether it was their straight southern path through the forests and fields of the Highlands, or the mad rush and gallop that had seen them cover as much land as Ajax could ride when they first ran from Mackay Castle, Merith did not know. Perhaps it was the fact that it was only the two of them, no carriage or weight to be drawn along the winding roads. For whatever reason, the return journey to her family home had been completed in less time than the voyage out, which meant that her reckoning with her parents was nigh. Whether she was ready to face it or not.

  As Finn led Ajax over a particularly tricky passage and then set them down the path that led towards her gates to the Mackenzie grounds, Merith reminded herself that courage was more true when it was summoned in the face of unexpected dangers.

  Perhaps, for the first time in her life, she could be truly brave.

  Merith looked at Finn, watching the way his profile was set and the gait of his steps so sure.

  Yes. For the man she loved, Merith was sure she could do anything.

  That morning, Finn had woken with a lightness in his heart like he had never known. The sun had still been weak as it slanted its light through the windows, but he hadn't needed its warmth. Merith had been curled beside him. Her breasts had pressed against the side of his chest, her arm around his waist. Her head had rested upon his shoulder and he had felt the dry curls of her hair against his skin. Just the soft ripple of her breathing, dancing over his chest, had turned him hard and aching for her. Not only in the body but in his heart. The desire to possess her, to claim her as his own and no one else's had been so powerful that it had been a physical ache in his chest. He had taken her chastity, her virginity. He had made a claim on her of sorts and placed himself in her heart in a way that no other male would ever be able to do. But, for the love that raged through him, angry and possessive, it hadn't been enough. She could still take a lover in the future. She could grace the bed of another. And the very idea had him feeling sick.

  Finn had laid there in the early morning, unwilling to wake his lover, and imagined what his brothers would have said if they could see him. Naked, beneath the sheets of a bed he had not paid for, in the arms of a woman that was as close to royalty as most could get. Tomas would have laughed. He would have insisted that only Finn could have gotten himself tangled up into such a mess. That only Finn would be stupid enough to fall in love with a woman he could never have. Lachlan would have only stared. Finn could see his elder brother's expression as if he were standing right before him. He could see the set of his jaw, the flash of disapproval in his eyes. Lachlan would have stared at him with a sense of sternness and...maybe a little sympathy.

  Because, as the sun rose higher, reason had also dawned in Finn's mind. Reality had come back to him, and the sin he had committed the night before turn had turned stark in his head.

  What could he offer to Merith?

  He could not marry her; her family would never permit it. He could not stand by her for the days of her life, give her children and a family. Not only would her hand have been denied to him, but Finn had also been away from his unit for longer than any missive would declare. In all likelihood, he was facing a punishment of death upon his return to his commander. Unless Merith's father was happy to vouch for him again, Finn had no occupation and would likely lose his very life soon. He could not give to Merith what he did not have—marriage, security, or otherwise.

  Finn had felt his heart weep as he had finally accepted the realization that Merith's future could never include him. He had laid there, with her soft form against his and her legs entangled with his own, understanding that such a moment was all they could have. He had already damaged her life enough by taking her chastity. He could not afford to sully her further or encourage affection from her that would be forbidden from going further. It was cruel.

  Instead, Finn had set about putting a distance between them. If he could convince her that their loving had been pleasurable but not a sign of deeper affection on his part, perhaps he could catch her before her delicate sensibilities convinced her that she was in love with him. He knew that was what she would seek. She was so lovely and sweet that she would construct the notion that she loved him, if only to justify what they had done out of wedlock.

  He could not bear her to fall into such folly, to give away a heart that he would have no choice but to return broken.

  His attitude had sparked questions, of course. The way he had allowed his heart to pour free, his love for her to fuel his actions the night before, only led to his behavior now to be considered odd. Merith was not stupid. She noticed the difference and demanded answers. But he had not been able to give them.

  For all his good intentions, Finn couldn't say that he did not love her. He could not put it into words. He feared that such a lie would have his heart rebel and blacken. That God would see him punished to an eternity with sinners and thieves.

  Such a selfish weakness meant that Merith was angry by the time they passed the gates of her home and found themselves once more within the courtyard of the Mackenzie estate. And Finn could not blame her.

  It had been five days since he had last stood in that same spot. Less than a week since he had spotted a carriage in trouble on the road to the south and guided a young woman and her maid safely home. And yet, it all felt like another life. A time when he had a different perspective, a different world at his feet. A different heart in his chest.

  Swallowing, Finn was pleased for the distraction when a horde of servants and stableboys rushed to greet them. Hands took Ajax from him, several maids hurried to Merith's side and helped her to the floor. Finn spotted Merith's blonde sister standing to one side with tears rolling down her face.

  Clearly, word of the Mackay's ransacked castle had beaten them back here, and Merith was once more a ghost of reincarnated life.

  Looking over at her, Finn could not deny that the image was appropriate. Merith was so bright, so full of life. Everything about her seemed pure and immortal.

  Even when he knew he had taken a little of that purity for himself, she was no less flawless for it.

  Merith was perfect.

  Stepping back so her family and servants could take her back into their arms, Finn curled his fingers into his palms and resisted the urge to do the same. This was her world. While he knew she cared for him, within a few weeks—perhaps even days—her world would fall back into its usual routines. Nor
mal would settle back into place. And that soldier...the one that had helped her once and been kind to her, would retreat to the back of her mind.

  The most Finn could hope for was that the memory he became was a pleasant one and not looked back on with regret or sadness.

  As he caught Merith's gaze, her arm lifted, as if she were reaching for his hand across the crowd. Finn kept his own by his sides and took a step back. Even he could feel that the smile on his face was sad. But at least it was there. He could not bear it if she thought him to hate her.

  "Guards!"

  The shout echoed off the stone in the courtyard. Everyone snapped to attention. Finn's head spun so fast that he felt a fire run down the back of his neck. He instinctively took a step towards Merith, sensing danger.

  "Guards! Seize him!"

  Before Finn knew what was going on, hands grabbed at his arms. His hands were wrenched behind his back, his sword stripped from his waist. His shoulders hurt, his head was forced forwards. He heard Merith cry out.

  "No! Father!"

  "Silence, Daughter!"

  Even with his head downcast, Finn could see the glower upon Craig Mackenzie's face. He knew that fire. The anger of a defending parent. Lachlan had always worn it when Finn was small and threatened by the neighborhood boys. Finn swallowed. He had a suspicion he knew what this was about.

  "Father! This man brought me home, safe! He should be commended, nor arrested!"

  "You think me a simpleton, Daughter?" he challenged back. "You think me foolish enough to believe that a man would see to my daughter's comfort alone for days on end without taking what could not be defended?"

  Finn felt rage burn within him. He could not deny the truth of the lord's allegations but they should not have been screamed before the ears of servants.

  "You do your daughter a disservice, sir," Finn growled. The hand on the back of his head, stopped him being able to truly make out the lord's face, but he could imagine it. The distaste dripping from his voice was clear enough.

  "I care not what you think, defiler." There was a sharp crack in the air, like the snapping of fingers. "See him taken to the house of justice under a charge of rape. He'll be executed in the morning."

  "No!"

  The pain in Merith’s voice had Finn wince. He had never heard her sound like that.

  There was a scuffle, the muttered whisperings of servants that could not still their mistress, and suddenly all Finn could see was the dirty, peach-colored silk of Merith's dress. She stood before him, her arms outstretched, as a human shield from his accuser. Finn watched with eyes wide, his lips parted in shock, and his mind casting back to the last time they had seen her father—in a big dining hall, where he had stood before her, defensive against the man who had failed to see her safe.

  "You cannot, Father!" Merith commanded. Her voice was strong, clear, and more powerful than he had ever before known it to be.

  It was strange to her father too, if the surprise in his voice was genuine.

  "You dare, Daughter?"

  "I do!"

  Finn watched the silks before him lift and then fall in a ripple, like Merith were taking in a long and steadying breath.

  "This man does not deserve the punishment you insist and I will argue in his favor at the gallows should I be required to. I understand that you value our family's reputation, my reputation. I know that journeying with this man alone has risked dishonoring that. You have my contrition, Father."

  Finn realized that he was holding his breath. All attempts to pull against those that restrained him were useless, and they would not let his head up. He felt the burning need to see. To witness Merith's bravery, for his heart was ready to burst with pride just listening to the defiance in her voice.

  "But it is due to this man that your daughter was returned to you safely. You hang him for it and you declare my life to be worth nothing." Bravery could only last so long and Merith's voice began to tremble. In a spark of panic, Finn feared that she was crying, wanting to reach out and hold her close. "Please, Father...do not degrade me to a point of worthlessness. Do not disgrace me by sending this man to die."

  Silence reigned. Disturbed by only the soft shuffle of a foot or the nervous cough of a servant, the quiet was oppressive. It was thick with suspended anticipation. Not a word was spoken. Until...

  "Send him back to his unit," Merith's father commanded, adhering just slightly to his daughter's wishes. Though, Finn knew that his own fate would still be the same. "If his skills are worthy enough for his officer to spare his life for desertion, then he shall live. Else justice will find him by someone else's hand."

  "Father!"

  "That is enough, Merith!"

  Finn winced. Her father spat her name like it was something ugly.

  "You will return to your chambers and see to your appearance. You stand there, barely my daughter." The lord addressed the men that held Finn. "Lock him away. I will send a missive to his commanding officer to have a contingent pick him up for trial."

  Which would only seal the guarantee of his death.

  Had Finn returned to his unit under his own volition, intent on speaking to his commanding officer, he might have been given leniency. A humble soldier returning under his own will appeared less the cowardly deserter than a man kept in a cage so that he could not flee, collected by the court marshals. Whether he was taken to the house of justice or to his own men, Finn was dead either way.

  As he was drawn away, he pulled back across the courtyard, and turned in the direction of the dungeons. Finn looked around, his gaze seeking the blue eyes he had come to so love.

  When he found them, they were bright with unshed tears and held longing so painful that Finn felt his heart tear.

  Apparently, his hopes of not breaking her heart had been too little, too late.

  16

  How had everything gone so spectacularly wrong?

  Merith was an intelligent young woman. She had known, from the moment she had given herself to Finn, that her parents would not approve. She had known that it was going to be a fight to win them around to seeing in Finn what she saw: a man worthy of her heart and hand. She was willing to sacrifice anything to be with Finn. As he would sacrifice his life to save her. Yet, she had feared being unprepared to steel herself against the expectations of her father and of society as a whole and had, on the journey down through Mackenzie lands, attempted to formulate an argument in her head.

  She had imagined introducing Finn to her parents on a more personal level, then telling them of her time away from home, of the dangers she had been forced to face, and the way Finn had protected and served her the entire way. She would have emboldened the pieces of the story that showed him a hero and a gentleman and skimmed over the night they had shared. Such moments were for them alone. She had told the story in her head, as she had told so many before, herself cast as the protagonist and speaking out for the man she loved, building him as a moral and just warrior. Someone worthy of a warlord's daughter.

  But she had never been given the chance.

  As soon as they had ridden into the open courtyard of her father's castle, everything had tumbled in a disastrous avalanche. Her father had already known of her journey, knowing that she had conducted much of it alone with Finn. He had jumped to so many conclusions that, despite the thread of truth in them, were so wrong in their portrayal of them both. Her father had turned the last few days—beautiful and sweet—into something sordid. He had attempted to stain what Merith refused to see tainted.

  Despite all the terrors and traumas of the last week, the battles and the threats and the near-escapes, Merith could not reject or repent for a moment of it. She regretted nothing. Every second, whether it sparked terror or joy, had been a second of life, of excitement. And somehow, along the way, she had found herself.

  Storming into her chambers, her cheeks flushed with color and wet with tears, Merith had marched across a room that had been hers since she could remember and glared at what had
once been a comfort to her.

  Snatching up a cushion from her chair—one that her mother had insisted she embroider in pretty pastel blues—Merith threw it across the room. She did not see where it landed, nor cared. The robe that hung on the back of the chair was discarded next. Lady Donella had always insisted on its beauty but Merith had always found it too long in the arm and annoying to walk in. The brush on her dresser was horrid. It always pulled at her hair and made her eyes water. It made a clatter as it hit the floor. As did the pretty pink dress that was laid across her bed, ready for her use.

  The throw that sat across the end of her wide and luxurious bed was a knitted creation of bright and vibrant color. She had spotted it at the market place and fallen in love with such vivid shades.

  She left it on the bed.

  Going to the chests that contained her gowns, Merith dug for the garments at the bottom, the ones that had always been cast over with a less approving eye by her family and had seen themselves buried beneath pretty pastel shades and fine lace. Some of them were gaudy and not her style, relegated to the bottom of the trunk by her own lack of interest. But she recalled one that... There!

  The gown was made of linen, not silk, but was finely crafted and tightly woven. It had been dyed a pretty shade of deep green, a tone that made her eyes flash the brightest blue. It was cut directly across the chest and sat long in the arms, resting over the backs of her hands. Despite the flash of paler silk, her father had always insisted that his daughters were not common country folk and would not wear something as coarse as linen. They would dress in the finery that was sent to them from the southern English kingdom.

  Rubbing the dress between thumb and forefinger, Merith felt no coarseness. Only softness. And, instantly, the image of Finn was a living brand in her mind. A man who was considered rough and wild. And yet... beneath it all was soft and beautiful in his own way.

  As fresh tears fell down her cheeks, Merith's gaze looked out at the mess she had made in her room, the carnage that she had wrought upon it all. She felt anger for everything that had been put upon her but, truly, the bulk of her ire was reserved for herself. For not anticipating her father's reaction. For not being stronger in the face of adversity and standing by Finn as he had stood by her.