“Edna! I think Tory is calling for you.” Ronin’s voice forced her to turn around and look at her husband and their two kids. Ronin was seated on the grass of the castle grounds with Tory and Tywin, their twin children, while Edna was taking a leisurely walk in the evening breeze. She turned around and walked to where they were sitting and noticed that Tory and Tywin were happily playing with one another and certainly did not need her.
“They look just fine tae me,” Edna replied, and Ronin quickly jerked her down to the ground. She landed on his lap, laughing, and looked at him with love in her eyes.
“Tory didn’t need you, but Tory’s father was missing you very, very much,” Ronin told her as he bent down to kiss her lips. Edna turned to face him completely and held his face lovingly in her hands while deepening the kiss with a fervent passion. Even after two years of marriage, they could never get enough of one another.
“Well, I do believe ye two have yer own bedchamber where ye can kiss one another as much as ye want.” Lachlan’s voice forced them to part and look at him. Edna laughed and moved from Ronin’s lap to sit beside him.
“Why do you always show up at such a bad time?” Ronin asked his friend, and Lachlan laughed good naturedly. Edna loved what these two men shared. Their friendship was a beautiful bond, and Edna enjoyed watching them playfully bicker and argue.
“Out of habit, my laird,” Lachlan said with a smirk and came to sit beside them.
Edna watched how he lovingly kissed both Tywin and Tory and started playing with them. She couldn’t help but feel grateful about the fact that her kids had all the love in the world and would have it forevermore. They had loving parents, Lachlan, and Edna’s mother. Edna did not know when she had gotten so lucky, but most of the time she felt like she had the world at her feet.
“My laird,” she looked up just as a guard showed up to them.
“Yes?” Ronin asked.
“There is a young miss who has shown up at the castle door and is asking for help. She says she is in trouble and needs tae speak with someone from the castle,” the guard explained, and Ronin turned to look at Edna with a confused expression.
“Ye two stay here. I will go and see what this is about,” Lachlan said and stood up at once to go. Neither Ronin nor Edna objected since they knew Lachlan would handle the matter with ease.
Once he was gone, Edna moved closer to Ronin and placed her head on his shoulder as they watched Tory and Tywin play with one another. Edna knew their life would never be a bed of roses. As laird and lady of the clan, they were going to face troubles all their life, but with Ronin beside her, life was always beautiful too. This was all she had ever wanted. This was what she finally had.
This is the story of Gillian, an adventurous English lady who finds herself captured by a mysterious and alluring Highlander. This Highlander will do whatever it takes to save his people from hunger, even abduct the daughter of his enemy. But life seldom goes as planned. What will happen when the Highlander starts falling for Gillian? And will her feelings or her logic prevail in this peculiar turn of events?
This is the story of Julia, an intelligent English lady who runs away to escape her woes and finds herself in the keep of an enticing Highlander. This Highlander, as handsome as he may be, has serious economic troubles, and only a miracle can save him. But perhaps one's answer is closer than he thinks. How will he help her face the past that is haunting her? And how will she save him?
This is the story of Gale, an adventurous English lady who runs away to escape her murderous mother and finds herself in the company of an alluring Highlander. There she is called to change her ways, and he helps her see the world from a different point of view. But her past is catching up with her. How will she elude her mother? And will this be the only obstacle in their relationship?
“Do we really have to go?” Edna raised her head as her mother’s musical voice reached her ears. She knew her mother wasn’t talking to her, and she knew it was impolite to listen in on someone else’s conversation, but she couldn’t stop herself. She tiptoed silently towards the open door of her parents’ bedchamber; her ten-year-old frame small enough to avoid casting shadows, thus helping her remain hidden.
“Ye ken that we have to. Not going isnae even an option, Freya,” her father replied, exhaustion evident in his tone. Edna did not know what was wrong but she knew that she wanted to go. She had been looking forward to the Celtic Festival of Beltane all year, and she had no desire to miss it for any reason.
“I ken. I just hope we dinnae regret it.” Edna sighed in relief as she heard her mother finally agree. She had no idea what they were talking about, or what her parents would regret by attending the festival. All she knew was even though her father was a firm man, Edna was confident that her mother could persuade him not to go. So hearing they would be indeed not forced to spend this auspicious day indoors was a great relief.
Edna returned to her perch in front of her castle’s largest window. The night was crisp with something unnameable, as if the sensation was so foreign that it could not be described. Regardless, the air around her felt alive. Edna felt as if the power of the gods was descending and entering her. She often wondered if magic existed and if the gods truly possessed powers. Tonight, she knew the answer to both of those questions was yes; she couldn’t wait to see the powers, magic, and mythical creatures come to life tonight.
“Edna, are ye ready my bairn?” She turned around as her mother walked out of her bedchamber and smiled at her. She knew something was wrong when she looked at her beautiful mother, who had been told by everyone in the clan that her beauty was a gift from God. It’s not as if she didn’t look lovely tonight; she did. Her beauty was just hidden behind a mask of worry, or perhaps fear — rendering Edna slightly afraid. Her mother was her rock, the one person she looked to for motivation, and seeing her troubled pained her.
“I am ready, mama,” Edna replied with a smile as she walked away from the window and went to stand before her.
“My beautiful girl,” her mother picked her up in her arms, and Edna laughed loudly.
Her mother and father both loved picking her up. Her father’s more masculine and larger arms made her feel safer, but her mother made her feel loved. Edna knew she couldn’t live without either of them.
Just then, her father emerged from the bedchamber, handsomely dressed in the clan’s colors; his plaid expertly tied and hung just above his knees. Edna leaped towards him, arms extended, as if she wanted to be in his arms, and sighed into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent. There was no one she loved more than her parents.
“Shall we go then?” Edna fervently nodded in response to her father’s question, already concerned about the fact that they would be late. Her father grinned at her enthusiasm and they descended the stairs quickly before exiting the castle. Edna exhaled a sigh of relief, knowing that they’d soon be with everyone else and having the time of their lives.
“Edna, are you excited, my bairn?” Her father asked as they walked along the paved path among the trees.
“I am,” Edna said quickly, squinting to see as far as she could. She could hear the festival sounds in the distance and knew everyone was laughing and dancing. The joy in the air was audibly reverberating through the atmosphere.
“Do you remember what I told you about Beltane?” her father asked, and Edna smiled. She remembered every single word, which could explain why this was her favorite festival of the year.
“Certainly, papa. Beltane is a fire festival,” Edna replied, her eyes twinkling. She was always drawn to fire, and one of the Beltane rituals was to build a bonfire high enough to reach the heavens. Her mother began to laugh at her response, and Edna looked at her with puzzled eyebrows, not understanding what was so amusing.
“It’s so much more than just a fire festival, Edna,” her mother said, lovingly stroking her dark hair.
“Yer mama is right. Beltane is a summer solstice celebration. We Scots have such a hard time during the cold months that when summer comes, we have to thank the gods in the heavens,” her father explained. Edna nodded, knowing it all, but despite the more appropriate significance, it was fire that drew her in.
“We can still go back home, Duncan,” her mother said, her voice almost a whisper.
“No.”
Edna couldn’t understand why her mother insisted on them returning home. Every year, they attended the festival, which brought joy to the entire clan. How could her mother possibly miss such an important day? Edna had no idea what was going on, but she was content. Her parents were accompanying her, and she knew they would have a good time — at the end of the day, this was all that mattered.
They continued walking for a few minutes longer, and Edna noticed that more and more people were appearing. Every single person was out enjoying the night to the best of their abilities. Her eyes sparkled as they approached the riverbank where the festival was taking place. The bonfire was already alight and glowing as brightly as the morning sun, exactly as she had imagined. Her father lowered her but kept her hand in his.
“Stay beside me, Edna,” her father said loudly enough to be heard above the din. She smiled as she tightened her grip on his hand and moved forward. Everyone who saw them nodded respectfully to her parents, and her father did the same. The ladies also stroked her hair and patted her shoulder.
“Yer finally here. I thought ye weren’t even coming,” a young lady said to her father. Edna stared at him for a few seconds longer, trying to put a name to the familiar face, but she couldn’t.
“I wouldnae miss the Beltane for the world,” her father exclaimed, and a passing server handed him a large wooden mug; he took a swig before proceeding to meet with some other men.
“Freya, yer here,” a woman greeted her mother warmly with a quick hug.
“Duncan didnae listen to me,” her mother said quietly, so that only the woman and Edna could hear her; the woman gave her father a quick glance before nodding in agreement.
“Edna, darlin’,” the woman said as she extended her hand, who took it. “Freya, I believe your daughter will be more beautiful than you when she grows up.”
“I ken. She is already perfect. The gods have blessed her with more looks than I could ever have,” her mother replied, picking up Edna in her arms. Edna had always heard people compliment her appearance and say she looked like her mother.
“Yer right,” the woman replied before waving goodbye and disappearing into the crowd. Her mother returned her father’s gaze, the string of tension between them drawn taut. Their earlier argument had caused a minor squabble, and Edna could sense it.
“Can I go play?” she asked her mother, who placed her on the ground but did not let go of her hand.
“No, Edna. Ye’ll be staying with us tonight.” Edna turned to look at her father with puzzled eye — he smiled as he looked down at her innocent expression.
“Listen to your mama. She just wants the best for ye,” her father agreed, and Edna’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She couldn’t let this minor annoyance crush her spirits or make her feel bad. It was still a night of celebrations, and she planned to take advantage of it in whatever way she could. She stood between her mother and father, watching the people at the festival mingling. Everyone was dressed in clan colors and looked as radiant as ever. Beltane was a time of great joy and fertility celebration. Edna noticed her mother twitch beside her and wondered how she could be anxious in such a vibrant place. She took her mother’s hand in hers and smiled up at her, hoping to calm her down. She had no idea what was bothering her at this time, but she wished for all of her problems to go away.
“It’s time to start the fire,” a young man shouted from afar, and everyone around them roared. They had all been anticipating this moment; the sky turning a bright, fiery orange. Edna took a deep breath and smiled broadly, as this was her favorite part of the evening.
“Are you ready, Edna?” her father questioned, extending his hand towards her.
“Yes, papa,” Edna assured him, already overjoyed. She put her hand in his as he picked her up and placed her on his shoulders. She squealed with delight when she realized she was taller than everyone else.
“I pray that this summer will be more joyful and prosperous than the last,” her father exclaimed, turning to face everyone, his voice echoing through the mountains. Everyone raised their hands in the air and wished those around them prosperity and happiness.
The cheering grew louder around them, and Edna joined in as the night sky alighted from the ever-rising flames. That moment was everything she had ever desired. Her parents, clan, and the world around her filled with joyful sounds. Nothing could have tainted the purity of those few minutes, she reasoned.
“Duncan.” A loud voice from behind them called out her father’s name. She looked at the man in front of her father, his gaze fixed on his face. A hush fell over the crowd as everyone waited in anticipation. Edna had no idea what was going on, but she knew something was wrong.
Her father assisted her in sliding down from his shoulders, and her mother quickly arrived to stand beside her. She took Edna’s hand in her own and yanked her away from her father, but the girl refused to move.
Before anyone could say anything or move, the strange man lunged at her father, who was unable to block the attack due to its suddenness. The crowd let out a loud gasp as it took a few seconds for everyone to realize what was going on. Edna’s eyes widened as the man charged ahead at breakneck speed, a dagger drawn in his right hand.
He was able to close the gap in a matter of seconds. He stabbed her father in the chest with the golden dagger in his hands. Edna’s entire body went limp as she watched her father painfully move both of his hands to his chest. Blood began to ooze from the wound, turning both of his hands bright red. Darkness gradually obscured her vision, and the last thing she heard was a loud, startling scream before collapsing to the ground, surrendered to her unconscious. Those few moments had brought her life to a standstill — they had submerged it into an unfathomable abyss — and she was unable to open her eyes again.
Chapter One
10 years later
Every man, woman, and child in the McKenzie clan was looking forward to Ronin’s arrival. Happiness had long vanished from the people’s faces, but now they had a reason to celebrate and rejoice. Mara, the clan’s lady, widow of the laird, and the mother of the boy who was finally returning home to take his father’s place. No one wanted to offend her or get in her way. She was a force to be reckoned with, a woman whose blood was so cold that the clan was convinced she lacked any heart at all.
They were aware that she had not always been this way. She, too, was once a young, lively girl who knew the pleasures of life. Her husband’s death had forced her to transform into this feared woman. She had no choice but to adapt to the circumstances — a position that rendered her unapproachable. But even she appeared cheerful today; all because of her son.
“Is there anything else ye want me to do?” Lachlan asked as he stood beside her, inspecting the decorations.
“Do ye think he’ll like all this, Lachlan?” she asked, her voice uncertain. Lachlan was aware that Mara had no idea what to expect. Her son had been sent to France for studies eight years before. They had no idea who he had become, and they were both a little scared to find out. Though Lachlan was confident that Ronin would remain the young boy he remembered, the young boy who had played with him when they were kids.
“He will. Have faith in me,” Lachlan assured her and by doing so, trying to assure himself as well.
Lachlan was relieved to see the way things were to unfold; Mara had been carrying far too much responsibility for far too long, and it was time to share the load. Ronin was finally returning home to help ease her burden and take the position that had been waiting for him; to become the new laird of the clan.
“I believe in an hour or so, he will be here,” Lachlan said, watching the woman’s eagerness spread across her face.
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Mara said absently before returning to the palace. Lachlan stepped forward and mounted his horse, watching her walk away. He, too, was ecstatic to see his childhood best friend. It had been eight years since the boys had parted ways, and Lachlan knew he would meet a young man who had spent far too much time in the civilized lands of France. As Lachlan waited outside the castle walls for Ronin, all he could think about was whether his friend was prepared to shoulder the responsibility that awaited him.
He sat atop his horse and stood along the path that would bring his friend home. A few minutes later, the sound of horse hooves reached his ears, just as he had predicted. It was immediately followed by the sight of his best friend riding towards him at full gallop atop a beautiful chestnut horse. His blonde hair reached just above his shoulders and blew in the breeze, trailing silkily behind him. Lachlan noticed Ronin’s blue eyes shone brightly, giving him the appearance of being both young and energetic. Handsome too.
Lachlan grinned. The two men stood in front of each other, serious expressions on their faces. Each of them evaluated the changes that had transpired in the last eight years. How much he’d grown; a young boy no longer. Every lass in Scotland would lose their minds over him.
“Ronin McKenzie is finally home,” Lachlan said, a smile on his face. Ronin returned the smile as he dismounted his horse. The two friends united in an embrace.
“Why do I feel like these eight years have been but a few days?” Ronin questioned after they finally separated.
“Because yer love for this land has reduced the time ye’ve spent apart to an infinitesimal fraction. Ye will always be a Scotsman, Ronin, no matter where ye live,” Lachlan replied.
“You are right. Let’s go home; I can’t wait to see mama,” Ronin said, getting on top of his horse once again as Lachlan followed after him.
“She is waiting for ye anxiously.”
The two men rode dangerously fast across the narrow valleys and steep pathways, just as they had done as young boys. They were chastised back then for attempting to appear heroic, but today, people just stared as they rode by. Ronin knew his clan’s members were relieved to see him return, and he was just as happy to be home. He’d been away from where he belonged for far too long, and returning home filled him with joy. France had been lovely, and his education had been beneficial, but there was no place like the one where your heart resides.
He’d missed the rivers, valleys, and mountains, as well as the cold after the rain, and the beginning of summer. He had missed his mother, his clan, and the land where he had been born. When the two of them arrived at the castle, Ronin was overjoyed to see how far his mother had gone to welcome him. The entire castle was decked out. He dismounted his horse and walked through the large gates to meet his mother who was standing on the stairs, her eyes glistening with worry.
Ronin took a deep breath as his gaze fell on her. She was still the same woman, but a lot older. He was well aware that this was the result of shouldering the clan’s responsibility all by herself after his father’s death. She had absorbed it all over her body, and the effects were severe. But he was there now — she would never have to face those burdens alone, ever again.
“Mother,” he said, taking her hands in his and kissing them briefly. She drew him in into a warm embrace.
“Oh, Ronin, how I have missed you,” his mother said, a single tear trailing from her eye, which she quickly brushed away.
“I missed you too, mama,” Ronin assured her with a smile, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Ye have grown to be more handsome than when I last saw ye. The same blue eyes and blonde hair but so much more bonny,” his mother complimented as he laughed.
“You just need a reason to praise me,” Ronin shrugged, always uncomfortable with compliments. They entered the castle, relieved to see that it hadn’t changed much since he had left. It still looked like home, and felt instantly at ease simply being there.
“Ronin, ye must be tired after yer long journey. Lachlan will lead you to your room. Rest,” his mother said affectionately. He was tired indeed but not in the mood to sleep. He just wanted to rest for a while before venturing out to explore the land he called home. It had to have changed in the last eight years, and Ronin wished to see it all with fresh eyes.
“Yer right. I will take my leave,” Ronin replied, walking towards his bedchamber, Lachlan close behind.
“Where do ye think you’re going?” Lachlan asked, stopping his friend.
“To my bedroom?” Ronin responded, his tone doubtful. He suddenly felt strange in his own castle, but he supposed that is what happens when someone returns after a long absence.
“Yer bedchamber, my future laird, is no longer there. Yer mama thought her son ought to have a bigger one.”
“Why?”
“Because ye have just returned from France, the land of the rich,” Lachlan replied, his tone tinged with humor.
“The land of the rich you say? I lived in a dormitory and had to share a bedchamber with another lad. I am not used to riches,” Ronin admitted candidly.
“Ye’ll get used to it, ye’ll see.”
“Never.”
Lachlan turned around and led Ronin to the opposite side of the castle. As they walked, he became aware of the subtle changes around him and realized how much time had passed. They ascended the stairs, and the final door on the floor led into his new quarters. When the two young men entered, Ronin smiled as he noticed that all of his childhood possessions were still kept there. It was as if he’d never left. He took a deep breath in the familiar surroundings and went straight to the large bed in the center of the room.
“What do ye think ye are doing?” Lachlan asked as he saw Ronin walk towards the bed.
“Resting.”
“France has softened you, Ronin. Who even gets tired from traveling? Get up and change yer clothes. We must celebrate yer return,” Lachlan said, but Ronin made no attempt to rise. He instead closed his eyes and shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed. Lachlan rolled his eyes as he approached the bed and sat down beside his friend.
“How was yer time in France? What did ye even study there?”
“France is a lovely country, my friend. We studied many things, but the one thing I will miss the most is poetry,” Ronin sighed. He had thoroughly enjoyed studying the love poems — he could lose himself in the art of writing for as long as eternity itself. Lachlan scoffed loudly before raising his head from the bed and turned to face Ronin.
“Poetry meaning poems?”
“Precisely.”
“What kind of poems?”
“Love poems?”
“So ye must ken a lot of love poems?”
“Several,” Ronin replied proudly, overjoyed that his friend was taking an interest. But then, Lachlan’s loud laughter proved him wrong. “Whatever is so amusing?”
“Have they taught ye anything useful?” his friend asked after suppressing his laughter.
“Poems are useful.”
“Maybe in France, old friend, but not in Scotland,” Lachlan replied before standing up and reaching out a hand to Ronin. “Let’s get ye to the pub and show ye what ye’ve been missing all these years.”
He knew Lachlan would never let him have a few hours alone, so he got up and changed as soon as he could before heading out with his friend. He had never been into excessive drinking or dancing, but he knew his friend wanted to celebrate, and he was content to oblige. When they arrived at the pub, he felt he was in for an adventurous night. Oh, how lovely to be back home.
***
“Edna, ye cannae possibly think that we will let ye stay home on yer birthday. That is preposterous,” Jana said, the horror she felt emanated clearly through her tone. Edna rolled her eyes at her friend, knowing these were just tactics to convince her.
“Jana, we go tae the pub almost every week. Is it truly necessary for us tae go today as well? I would rather just sit home and enjoy my birthday with ye all,” Edna replied softly, roaming her eyes around the room to look at her friends. Three pairs of stony eyes met her gaze, and she knew that no one was going to listen to her for even one second.
She had a small group of friends and mostly preferred staying within a select few people. Jana, Laura, and Kathy were her closest ones in the world, and she had no desire to disappoint them. She knew they just wanted her to have fun and enjoy her birthday, and she did not blame them. She would have wanted the same for any of them as well.
“We are still going tae the pub,” Laura said firmly and walked towards Edna; extending a hand. She took hold of her friend’s outstretched fingers and stood up from the bed. She approached the looking glass on one side of her bedchamber and examined her reflection in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her long, black hair, which flowed like silk behind her back and down to her waist. Her features were frail, and her face was innocent. She smiled.
“Ye look beautiful like ye always do, Edna. Stop fussing,” Kathy said as she walked towards the door, smiling. Edna rolled her eyes and followed the girls out of the bedchamber. The house was almost empty, but that was the case most of the time — her mother must be sleeping or gazing out the window, lost in her own world. Having grown accustomed to such a situation, she merely exited the keep with her friends and made their way to the pub, determined to have a good time.
Edna was lost in her own thoughts as she walked ahead of everyone else. She had turned twenty today and couldn’t believe how quickly time was passing. She thought her world had ended for her ten years ago, but she soon discovered that time stops for no one. It just keeps flowing and unfolding without any regard to anything or anyone.
“Edna, walk slowly,” Jana called out from behind her, and she stopped, allowing her friends to catch up. Just as they reached her, the girls linked hands with one another and walked ahead together. A few minutes later, they arrived at the pub who was full of people like always.
She only ever went to the pub with her friends. She enjoyed dancing and drinking, but not excessively or on a weekly basis. She found true happiness in solitude, especially on a day like her birthday. The dimly lit building was alive with the sounds of music, moving feet, and the endless chatter and laughter of the patrons who had already been there for a while. She could feel a headache coming on, but she owed it to her friends to try to enjoy herself.
“Drinks?” Jana yelled above the din, and all three of them raised their hands. They made their way to the bar. Kathy drew the attention of the young man working, and he approached them with a charming smile on his face.
“Tonight is our friend’s birthday. We wish something strong,” Laura said, a flirtatious grin on her lips.
“Who is the birthday girl?” he asked, staring at everyone. Jana directed her finger at Edna, who noticed his gaze lingering on her face for a few seconds longer. He smiled at her, and she raised an eyebrow, signaling that she was not interested. He quickly poured four shots of whisky and four mugs of ale for the girls and set them in front of them.
“Enjoy,” he said before moving on to the next customer.
“Okay, girls. One, two, three, dram!” Jana shouted, and they all grabbed their glasses and downed them in one go. Edna felt the scalding liquid slide down her throat, scorching everything in its path. She could already feel herself losing her inhibitions, and she knew she couldn’t drink any longer. She had no desire to be so drunk that she forgot her own birthday.
“Let’s go dance,” Laura said as she took her hand in hers and led her to the large space in the room where people were dancing to the sounds of bagpipes, accordions, and fiddles. Edna trailed behind her but quickly lost interest. The other dancers were shoving her around, and the heat inside the pub was making the whole thing unpleasant. She knew she needed some fresh air.
“I am going outside for a bit of fresh air,” she whispered in Jana’s ear. Jana nodded, and Edna made her way through the crowd and out into the evening. She sighed in relief as she felt the cold wind on her body; standing near the pub’s back wall and gazing up at the starry night sky. It was stunning.
Her birthday was always a sad occasion for her, and she couldn’t be happy about it no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t help but think about her father. She remembered how he was always there for her during on that day, making her feel like the most important little girl in the world. She imagined how different things would have been if he hadn’t been taken from her.
Edna took a deep breath in, trying to keep the tears at bay. She knew she couldn’t cry, but she desperately wanted to. Her father was somewhere among the stars, and he was still alive in her heart. He wasn’t far away, but inside her. She smiled despite her sadness, knowing that he loved her no matter where he was. A chill ran through her body, causing her to shiver slightly. She had no idea why until she looked around. Someone was staring at her very closely.
Lorna was shaking her head, hunched forward, hands over her waist, trying to catch her breath. “He’s got a big ol’ mind o’ his own,” she said.
“Hmm, interesting,” said Arran beside her; his eyes laughing. “One could say he reminds me o’ a certain ferocious woman that I know.”
Lorna arched her eyebrows to the sky. “Don’t you dare,” she warned.
Arran threw up his hands in feigned innocence. “Merely an observation,” he protested.
Lorna glared at him. “I’ve no idea who that might be,” she insisted.
“Oh, I’ll give ye a clue alright.” He leaned into her and he looped his arm around her waist; pulling her against him. He dropped his mouth to her ear. “I married her,” he said.
Lorna shivered in response to her husband’s touch. They had been married for nearly four years. One would think that time would have dulled her desire or that it would have faded completely, but time had had the opposite effect on her. Her husband could still make her swoon, melt her body, and make her legs tremble for him with a single touch. She wished she could lean into him, bury her head in the crook of his neck, open her mouth to him and let him kiss her senseless.
But there were far more urgent matters to attend.
Chief of which was the taming of the ferocious little boy running ahead of them; tugging on the fabrics that danced over the tops of the nearby stalls, snatching up gloves dangling from stands, grasping for anything and everything, like a fiery bundle of chaos.
Before the shop owners even got the chance to marvel at his boisterousness or shake their heads and laugh at the little boy’s speed and agility – he had run on to the next interest, picking up fruits from baskets and loaves from tables, squealing and giggling heartily all the while.
Lorna untangled from her embrace with her husband. She was shaking her head. Bruce was a delightful handful but he was a handful alright.
“He’s back at it again,” she said. Arran followed her gaze to the little boy bouncing down the street. Shaking his head at her, he laughed, at her. He was enjoying this.
“Nae less than we’re used tae.”
“He’s making trouble.”
“He’s getting tae know his future subjects,” Arran teased.
“He’s snatching up their apples and toys!”
“Out o’ love,” Arran drawled; trying and failing to contain his amusement. His face was ablaze with laughter. “This is love.”
“Easy tae say when it’s nae ye running after him,” she said. “I suppose we ought tae be grateful that the vendors take it in their stride. I dinnae think I’d have the ability tae be as patient as them.”
Arran’s eyes were shining bright with humor but his tone was reassuring. “Oh, yer people love him,” he said to Lorna. He was right, of course.
Each time they had journeyed to the markets in her father’s domain, Bruce had made a spectacle; stopping to speak to anyone who cared to listen to a little boy’s rambling, to watch him skidding down the street clothed in the finest garments a little laird could dream of — and the journeys had been beyond counting.
The vendors and shopkeepers cooed and doted upon him and if he did not stop by their stalls to snatch up something, they almost looked disappointed. Some of them even had their baskets ready and waiting for him, and said, “Anything that pleases yer eye, my laird?” and, “Have at it, my laird!” when he stopped by.
“Yes! This one!” Bruce would say; picking up a miniature horse or an apple or a potato, or a sword cut from wood, and the merchants would exchange amused glances before shaking their heads and laughing.
Lorna rolled her eyes and sighed. “Off I go, yet again,” she said. Her voice revealed her exhaustion but she could not deny a small part of her enjoyed these little journeys through her home.
Arran lifted his hand in playful cheer. “I believe in ye,” he said. She made a face at him, then gathered her gown and ran after Bruce.
She raced after her son, steadying and catching her breath as she reached him. She looped her arms around him, gathering him to her side. He had found his way to the front of a silverware shop and had been smacking a silver spoon against the merchant’s steel table; as if testing its fortitude and strength.
“Forgive us, kind sir” said Lorna as she pulled her son away.
The merchant failed to hide his disappointment as Bruce put his spoon away, albeit reluctantly. “Please, dinnae apologize,” he said, laughing. “Always an honor tae have the young laird visit our streets and judge our goods,” he joked.
Lorna shook her head and laughed. “Certainly one way tae put it,” she said to the merchant then turned to her son. “Let’s go, Bruce. Come on. Up ahead.”
Bruce was already shaking his head, the strong-minded little animal. “Nae, Mama. Nae, I want the spoon.”
“Well, ye cannae have it. I mean it, Bruce.”
“Sure he can,” said the old merchant. He caught himself and then added in a more reverent tone, “That is if ye dinnae mind, my lady.”
Lorna sighed. Oh, well. He had picked many “souvenirs”, as they liked to call them, from all the other stands in their time, and the vendors been more than happy to relinquish their goods. What was one more silver spoon to add to his collection?
The merchant lifted the spoon from his table and handed it to Bruce, who snatched it like a precious little thing, and was already running ahead before Lorna could get her words out. “Bruce! Say thank ye!”
She returned to the merchant, still shaking her head. “I’m so sorry. Thank ye, sir.”
He waved away her gratitude. “Please,” he said. “What greater honor than tae tell people that our good laird’s heir is my most favorite customer?” He laughed and Lorna eased up a little; laughing along.
An arm came over her waist and she turned to see that her husband had caught up to them; pulling her close and kissing her cheek.
“Evening, my laird,” said the old man; bowing a little.
“Evening, good sir. I see my son has bestowed you his patronage,” said Arran, laughing.
“The very best customer, my laird.” The man laughed too.
Arran shook his hand and poured some coins in his palm. The man looked down and gushed his gratitude. “Thank ye, my laird, thank ye, sir.”
It was Arran’s turn to dismiss his gratitude with a wave. “Please. It is the least I can do for the chaos our little Bruce wreaks in these streets.”
“Oh no, sir, we look forward tae it,” the merchant assured him; smiling as he pocketed his money.
“We encourage it,” added a female vendor selling fabric beside him and the other merchants who’d been watching and listening laughed and shook their heads.
“Tis the least we can give back tae a laird who protects and supports his people thus so,” another merchant in the crowd added, and there were murmurs of approval as they laughed and nodded.
Lorna also smiled. Perhaps she had worried for nothing after all, and Bruce’s antics were all in good humor – not that she would start encouraging Bruce but she resolved to leave him alone for the time being. The sight of him running around the flea market, grabbing toys and goods and striking up conversations with the most unlikely of people had turned out to be a blessing for the shopkeepers. They loved him because they loved his father – almost as much as she loved her husband and son.
Lorna turned from the elderly merchant but first she waved him and the rest of them goodbye. “Have a fine journey ahead, milady,” said the merchants.
“Please bring our future laird back soon,” they added as they called after her.
Lorna laughed at that. As if she could possibly hold Bruce back from having his way!
“Oh, he’ll be back,” Arran assured them; a small smile lingering on the corner of his mouth.
They continued walking, past shops filled with swirling gowns and merchants shouting out the prices of their wares. Bruce continued to grab and seize whatever was in his path, while his father continued to dip his hand into his pocket and pay each merchant for each good snatched up and stolen. They laughed and said thank you.
Lorna sighed as she watched everything. It was a happy, satisfied sigh, the only kind she’d let out since starting a family with the man she loved.
Ahead of them, a group of vendors and villagers alike were huddled around the boy as he regaled them with stories about his newest chest of toys, his grandfather’s last birthday, and his favorite uncle Douglas.
Lorna watched her son spread his arms wide, making a face and gesturing as he entertained his audience and they broke into laughter. She realized she was laughing too. “He’s a delight,” she said dreamily.
“When he’s nae being a tyrant,” said Arran as he followed her gaze.
“That we can agree on,” she said and he laughed. “Mischievous like the brither he’s named after,” he added and she smiled. Arran’s eyes were smiling too.
She enjoyed hearing his voice free of pain and anguish as he spoke of his brother. He’d let time and new love heal his broken heart. He’d made it this far and her heart swelled in her chest as she realized her husband had overcome the greatest pain of his life.
She had never loved him more. She added softly, “Strong and handsome, like ye.”
“Beautiful and stubborn, like ye,” he said.
Lorna feigned affront. “Excuse me, sir. I am the softest, meekest little maiden ye’ll ever come across, thank ye very much.”
Arran shook his head at her. “With a very strong mind o’ his own, like ye too,” he added. “His younger brothers and sisters will definitely have an example tae follow.”
“If they’re nae already a larger handful than their big brither,” said Lorna.
“Well, now there’s only one way tae find out,” he replied as he clasped his hand over the small of her back.
She shivered and while she already knew what he was going to say – she asked anyway, “And what would that be?”
“We make more bairns,” he whispered against her cheek and she laughed.
She laughed because she felt lighthearted and joyful. She laughed because it was the perfect time to tell him that she was with child.
She had yet to confirm it with the surgeon but the signs were all there, as they had been with Bruce: the early morning dizziness, the inability to keep a meal down one moment and the overwhelming urge to devour anything she could lay her eyes on the next. She could have delivered the happy news to her gorgeous husband right then, at that moment…
But she decided not to. She would wait until they were in the castle, until they were all alone in their chambers. She would lay down beside him and plant his hand on her bare belly, and she would look in his eyes and say, “I’ve got a little something for ye.”
Then, she would watch him shake with enthused laughter as he lowered his mouth and kissed her belly; kissed her all over.
For now, Lorna leaned into him as they walked side by side. He held her so tightly but tenderly too. He kissed her ear, her cheek. She turned her mouth to him and, despite all the onlookers, she let him kiss her like his kiss was the only thing that mattered in the world.
It was as pure and overwhelming as the first time he had held her and claimed her as his own.
It was as pure and overwhelming as she knew it would always be.
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This is the story of Julia, an intelligent English lady who runs away to escape her woes and finds herself in the keep of an enticing Highlander. This Highlander, as handsome as he may be, has serious economic troubles, and only a miracle can save him. But perhaps one's answer is closer than he thinks. How will he help her face the past that is haunting her? And how will she save him?
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