Taming a Highland Stallion: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Beasts Of The Highlands Book 8)

by Alisa Adams

  17

  Gillis felt refreshed, clean, and rested. She had her favorite pale blue gown on and her hair was shining, combed, and back up in an elegant knot on her head. She and Aunt Hexy were walking slowly down the stairs to the great hall when Gillis noticed the group of men around Rane.

  “Aunt, we have trouble,” Gillis whispered to her aunt.

  Aunt Hexy peered around Gillis to the group of men near Rane.

  “That looks like a group of village pastors,” Aunt Hexy said curiously.

  “Och, Auntie, this is what I feared. They have come for me,” she said fearfully. “They will be wanting tae take me tae gaol.”

  Hexy looked up at her niece and then back at the men. “Over me dead body, Gillis dear. I know over Rane’s dead body as well!” she said fiercely. “No one is taking ye anywhere, especially tae gaol!” But Aunt Hexy’s old voice wavered and broke with fear for her niece.

  “’Tis the law, Aunt. I have broken the law by practicing healing without a licensed healer attending over me. A man, such as Mr. Nisbit…” Gillis whispered hoarsely.

  Aunt Hexy clutched her niece’s hand as they continued down the stairs and over to Rane.

  “Ah, here she is,” Rane said calmly, though his jaw was tight and tense. “Lady Gillis Ross, my betrothed.”

  Gillis knew that look. Rane wanted to throw these men out of his castle. She placed her hand on his arm and nodded to the two pastors. There was a third man with them, though he did not have the trappings of a pastor.

  “Gillis, my love, these are the pastors of the villages of Achriesgill and Rhiconich from the far end of the loch. Pastor Robert and Pastor Burns.”

  Gillis nodded politely to them and gave them a small curtsy. She was desperately glad that she was back in her gown and not wearing the leather trews in front of two pastors.

  “And this man is from Edinburgh,” Rane said through his teeth. “The Old Tolbooth gaol on High Street, tae be specific. Mr. Tweedie.”

  Gillis’s knees quaked as she caught herself by tightening her grasp on Rane’s arm. He placed his hand over hers and gave it a small squeeze.

  Gillis heard the doors of the main hall open behind her as a flood of Rane’s men came pouring into the hall. They had come in from the practice field and stood there in their black kilts, their bodies sweaty, their muscles pumped and flexing. All of the warriors still had their swords in the sheathes at their waists or bows and quivers of arrows strapped behind their backs. They gathered behind their laird.

  Rane nodded at the man from Edinburgh. “Tell us yer business here in Kinlochervie, Mr.Tweedie,” he said curtly, his deep voice resonating throughout the giant hall. “Ye have come a long way from Tolbooth Gaol. You have business with these pastors?”

  The men behind Rane started murmuring and grumbling with curiosity, as well as some suspicion.

  The man named Tweedie answered before the pastors could say anything. “I was already in Rhiconich, with Pastor Burns,” he said, looking at the two pastors.

  “Aye,” the pastor of Rhiconich said. “He came at me request. The midwife delivered a babe from one of the village women. The village woman doesnae believe in Sooterkin and wouldnae listen tae the midwife’s concerns.”

  Rane just stared at him. Waiting for an explanation.

  “There were rabbits in the cottage,” the pastor said fearfully. “A woman giving birth near animals can give birth tae a babe bearing the same characteristics as those animals, as the midwife told her. Luckily, the babe didnae live long after delivery. ’Twas vera small and early tae be born. The woman also should not have lived, but she did. ’Tis a sin. She should have listened tae the man helping her birth her child.”

  “A man helped her? Or a midwife?” Rane asked with his brows furrowed.

  Gillis leaned up to whisper near his ear, “The midwife is a man. They are called man-midwives by the Royal College of Physicians,” she whispered.

  “I dinnae understand,” Rane said as he looked down at Gillis.

  Gillis explained loud enough that the pastors and Mr. Tweedie could hear. “There are common midwives who are of course women, but also man-midwives. According tae the book by John Maubry, if I may quote, ‘Men...being better versed in anatomy, better acquainted with physical helps, and commonly endued with greater presence of mind, have always found readier or discreeter, tae devise something new, and tae give quicker relief in cases of difficult or preternatural births, than common midwives generally understand.’ End quote,” she said with a crooked smile and an arched brow as she stared into his eyes.

  “You cannae be serious,” Rane said.

  “I am,” Gillis said with a scathing look towards the pastor. “Men, of course, assume they must know more about women’s’ bodies and birthing babies than women dae. Such preposterous thinking by arrogant men, indeed!”

  Rane gave her a thoughtful look as he took in what she had said. He scratched his chin and looked back at the pastor. “I am saddened that her babe didnae live, but Sooterkin ye say? Are ye telling me that ye feared the babe would look like a rabbit or act like one?” he said slowly, trying not to smile.

  “Och, nay,” Pastor Burns said firmly.

  Rane’s shoulders relaxed just a bit, until Pastor Burns spoke again, shocking Rane further.

  “The babe would be a rabbit.”

  Seeing the laird’s expression of incredulity, he rushed on, “Ye shouldnae be skeptical of what I say, Laird MacLeod! There was the case of Mary Toft, who had rabbits in her cottage, and she gave birth tae rabbits herself!”

  The men in the hall started laughing at this.

  Rane stifled a shocked guffaw and smoothed his face as he looked back to glare at his men, who instantly became silent.

  Gillis tried to hide her shock. She started to say something but Rane squeezed her hand.

  Gillis ignored him as she stared sharply at the pastor. “Sooterkin is a most foolish, ignorant, uneducated”—Rane squeezed her hand again—“and highly peculiar concept. While Mr. John Maubray—who is associated with this Sooterkin ye speak of—is brilliant in condemning some of the barbarous instruments being used in the delivery of babies, he is a fool tae think that a woman who gives birth in the presence of certain animals will deliver children who shall bear those same animals’ characteristics, or even those animals themselves. ’Tis preposterous!” she scoffed angrily. “This from the man who knows more about birthing babies than anyone? Indeed!”

  “Indeed,” Rane growled as his men murmured their agreement. Rane narrowed his eyes on Mr. Tweedie. “And ye were asked tae come because...?”

  “The woman who gave birth, Maude MacNamee, is accused of being a witch by Pastor Burns. The child died before Pastor Burns”—Mr. Tweedie pointed to the pastor of Rhiconich—“could determine if this...Sooterkin had happened. He claims Maude MacNamee caused the child’s’ death tae conceal this...Sooterkin.”

  There came angry mumbling from the men behind Rane.

  “Did ye say Maudie MacNamee?” Rane looked at the pastor with shock and anger in his eyes. “Maudie is not a witch, she is a vera young girl,” he said with disdain for the pastor.

  The men’s’ hostile murmuring and mumbling increased.

  Gillis interjected with a snap of her fingers. “Whose baby died from what sounds like a premature birth.” When they looked at her blankly she said, “The pastor said the poor baby was born early and vera small. It wasnae ready tae live outside its mother’s body,” she said in a crisp, confident voice.

  Rane touched her hand lightly as he glared at the two pastors. Then he narrowed his eyes on Pastor Burns. “There will be no arrests of witchcraft around Kinlochervie, Pastor,” he said in a quiet, steely voice. “I wilnae have such a barbaric practice as witch burning or hanging here. Or this nonsense of Sooterkin repeated ever again.”

  The pastor blustered and turned to look at Mr.Tweedie and the pastor of Achriesgill.

  “I say, Laird MacLeod—” the pastor started to say but turned
away from the laird’s furious face to beseech the other pastor. “Pastor Robert, ye must agree!”

  Rane let go of Gillis’s hand on his arm and stepped up to the pastor. He looked down angrily into his face. “Maudie was a child herself. A child that some say that ye raped.” Rane heard Gillis’s gasp from behind him. “I am sure yer wife wasnae happy tae hear this. But how vera convenient for ye that the child died. I am also sure that ye were disappointed that Maudie didnae die herself.”

  Pastor Robert of Achriesgill looked archly at Pastor Burns. “Is this true?” he demanded.

  “It is not true!” Pastor Burns declared while his face reddened.

  The men behind Rane started talking louder.

  “Maudie was an innocent!” one of his men shouted.

  “Everyone knows ye were lusting after her!” another called out.

  “She told one and all ye were the father and that ye attacked her behind the kirk!” another man growled.

  “Ye near strangled her tae death, and beat her face ’til it was bloody and black and blue,” Large Bernard said huskily as he wiped a tear from his face. “Then ye beat her again when she was tae large tae hide her pregnancy. Ye caused her babe tae die! Maudie is me niece. I know the truth of this.”

  Rane whipped his head from his men back to the pastor, who was shaking and trembling as he stared at all the angry warriors dressed in black behind the laird. Rane added in a seething, snarling whisper, “I should have tossed ye out of Rhiconich long ago. The benevolence of Kinloch reaches far. I think ye forget who pays yer allowance and keeps yer village prosperous. Ye will leave at once,” he snarled. Rane turned to Mr. Tweedie. “Ye may take him tae Tolbooth.”

  Rane looked behind him at his men and jerked his head towards the pastor.

  Two of Rane’s men stepped forward and came to stand behind Pastor Burns.

  Mr. Tweedie nodded respectfully. “Aye, Laird.” He shuffled his feet nervously. This laird was intimidating and the situation was not what was described. He cleared his throat. “However, there is another matter.” His eyes glanced quickly to Gillis and back to the laird. “The pastors have had an anonymous report that a woman is acting as healer here without a signature allowing her tae dae sae. The pastor’s permission is required.” He cleared his throat again and looked at Gillis.

  Rane took a step toward Mr. Tweedie. He looked at him scathingly.

  “An anonymous report?” he questioned the man slowly. “Ye are talking of my future wife,” he said softly in a furious voice. “Be vera, vera careful, Mr. Tweedie.”

  The man from Tolbooth looked nervously at the black-kilted warriors in the great hall, who now stared with hostility back at him.

  Gillis raised her chin and spoke calmly. “I spent many years at the Royal College of Physicians in Edinburgh studying and apprenticing under Mr. Alexander Nisbit. I am a finished Licentiate of Animal Healing,” she said proudly.

  Mr.Tweedie looked down at his hands. “Still, ma’am, as a woman ye need the parish pastor’s approval and signature to practice medicine as a healer here.”

  “She is Lady Gillis Ross,” came Aunt Hexy’s angry voice as she walked forward to stand in front of her niece.

  There came a rustling of noise and murmuring of the Kinloch men as they too all stepped forward, surrounding Gillis, shouldering her behind them until she was totally enclosed and circled by black-kilted warriors. They stood behind their laird, staring angrily at the man from Edinburgh.

  “Soon tae be Lady MacLeod,” Rane added with a dark warning in his voice. “I gave her my approval as my horses were badly hurt.” He looked angrily at the two pastors. “My approval has more weight than theirs!”

  Mr. Tweedie looked at the laird with a stern expression. He glanced behind the laird to see that the group of warriors had pushed the woman behind them. “I understand that, M’Laird. But I am just following the law. She needs the signature of a senior—er, male healer that she would be working with, or the parish pastor. That is the law.”

  “That is ridiculous!” Rane growled. “This is my castle, these are my horses! I gave her my permission! What if the horses were dying? Should I have run along tae the far end of the loch tae have these pastors sign a piece of paper while my horses are dying?”

  Mr. Tweedie cleared his throat again. “Aye, M’Laird. Ye should have.” He stood firm, looking the laird in the eyes. “She is under arrest, M’Laird.” Mr. Tweedie went to step past Rane and towards the men to extract Gillis.

  Chaos broke out in the hall as the men shouted and drew their swords.

  Rane lunged at the man. He spun to his back and held Tweedie’s arm behind his back as he put his other arm around the man’s neck. “Ye wilnae be taking my wife!” he hissed into the man’s ear as the clamoring in the great hall rose to a deafening level.

  Even Duke added his voice as he started yipping and yapping and growling.

  “Ye cannae take our lady!” someone shouted.

  “We need her! She has saved our horses!” another man bellowed.

  “Ye wilnae be taking our laird’s lady from him or us!” another shout came.

  “She healed my horse! She has her license!” This came from several men, who shouted their agreement. Men began calling out their horses’ names and what Gillis had done for that horse.

  “A woman should be allowed tae practice without the signature of a man!” shouted Aunt Hextilda.

  Rane’s hold on Mr. Tweedie loosened as his anger became less, and then even less. His men were protecting Gillis. Guarding her amongst them. He let go of Tweedie, stepped back, and listened as his men called out what Gillis had done for them or their horses. He watched in amazement, and with pride.

  Tweedie stood there frozen, listening to all the warriors defending this one woman. He had never seen such a thing. The men shouted over each other, telling of how this mere woman had helped them. The noise and cheering following each man’s shout about Laird MacLeod’s future wife were deafening.

  “Wait! Wait, please!” came a woman’s’ voice from the doors of the great hall.

  A loud shrill whistle split the air and then another and another. Everyone turned towards the doors to see Aria with two fingers in her mouth blowing those ear-splitting, shrill whistles. She took her fingers out of her mouth and found Gillis in the midst of all the men. Their eyes met and she winked.

  The hall became silent. Not because of the whistles, however.

  Gillis looked at her friend. Aria was in one of Gillis’s gowns. It hugged her breasts, which were normally hidden behind a bulky, stiff, leather vest or leather apron. It hugged her hips, which were normally covered in an overly large and long tunic. Her dark hair was loose, flowing in curls over one shoulder, instead of being hidden under a large, floppy tam.

  Gillis smiled at Aria’s wink. She also saw that Aria had a paper in her hand. Her breathing calmed down and the color returned to her face. The men who had surrounded her parted so she could move forward to Rane.

  Rane instantly reached out and pulled her back to his side and wrapped an iron arm tightly around her waist.

  Gillis looked up at him with a bright smile and tears in her eyes. “Yer men,” she whispered, “they defended me.”

  “Aye,” he said proudly.

  Rane looked over at the girl who had whistled.

  “Who is that girl?” Rane whispered near Gillis’s ear.

  “That girl,” Gillis said with a smile, “is yer saddler, Aria.”

  Rane stood up straight and studied the girl coming their way. “Sae much about her makes sense now,” he said.

  Aria came strutting through the crowd of men as she made her way boldly towards Gillis and Rane. She passed Gaufid and hesitated, slowing, and then stopping. She took a few steps back to stand in front of him as she smiled shyly up at him. “My full name is Aria, Gaufid. Not Ari. And I am a woman, as ye can hopefully see.” She leaned up and placed a quick kiss on his lips. Then she continued past him with a big grin.

 
; Gaufid’s mouth opened in shock. He watched her walk away from him, his eyes going up and down her body, locking on her hips as they swayed in her bold walk. “Thank the heavens,” he whispered, just before he dropped like a log into a dead faint.

  Aria stopped in front of Mr. Tweedie. “Is this what ye are needing, sir?” She handed him the paper she had been carrying. “It is a letter signed by Mr. Alexander Nisbit, allowing Lady Gillis Ross, a Licentiate of Animal Healer, tae practice medicine here at Kinloch Castle under his direction.”

  18

  Gillis smiled as she stood tensely, watching Mr. Tweedie.

  Mr. Tweedie quickly read the letter. He looked up from the paper in his hands to Gillis and then to Laird MacLeod. He looked back at the two pastors with a scowl. “My apologies, M’Laird,” he said as he turned back to Rane. “This paper will suffice.” He looked around. “Is Mr. Nisbit available tae corroborate his signature on this paper?”

  Gillis’s and Aria’s shoulders tensed.

  “He is not,” Rane said with authority as he stared the man down.

  Mr. Tweedie glanced at the paper again and then around the hall uneasily. “This is most unusual, Laird MacLeod. Mr. Nisbit should be here tae answer tae his signature.”

  “He cannae be here,” Rane said.

  “Where is he?” Mr. Tweedie asked hesitantly.

  “Ye dinnae need tae know that,” Rane asserted.

  Pastor Robert stepped forward. “Laird MacLeod, surely ye can understand that we need tae ask Mr. Nisbit tae affirm that it is indeed his signature on the paper? It is clear that yer men support Lady Gillis in her practice of healing on their horses. But we cannae be sure if he signed it himself or one of the females here signed it for him. Ye can see this dilemma, surely?”

  “Pastor Robert? Ye dare tae question me when I say that that is his signature?” Rane said in a soft, commanding voice.

  Duke trotted forward to stand beside Rane. He looked up at the pastor and growled in his tiny voice.