Highlander's Lost Daughter (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Alisa Adams

  Tavia got out of bed and began to wash herself, and he watched with a pang of regret as she dressed again, then got up and helped her lace up.

  Blair turned her around and kissed her tenderly, and she realized that he was still unclothed. “You had better dress, M’Laird, or you will frighten the horses!”

  He laughed and let her go, closing the door behind her, but unfortunately the Laird Colin Patterson came upstairs to see Blair at that moment. He saw Tavia coming out of Blair’s room and his face darkened with fury. “Mistress Tavia,” he said, grimly. “Did you spend the night in my son’s bedchamber?”

  “I did,” she replied, lifting her chin defiantly and looking him in the eye.

  “Then I must ask you to leave,” he said, his voice sounding as though he was struggling to control it. “And please do not darken the doors of this castle again. I will not have my son having...relations with a member of the lower class.” His scathing regard raked her from head to foot and back again.

  At that moment Blair, having heard the commotion through the bedroom door, came out to investigate. He saw his father and Tavia staring at each other as though by doing so they could kill each other. He put an arm around Tavia’s shoulders. “What is going on?” he asked, frowning.

  “Your father has just ordered me to leave,” Tavia replied, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. He thinks we have been—been…” she trailed off, unable to go on.

  Blair was utterly enraged. He stepped up to his father until they were nose to nose. His voice was a low, threatening growl. “Tavia spent the night here at my invitation, Father,” he informed him. “She is my guest, and whatever you think happened between us did not. However, if it had, it would have been NONE. OF. YOUR. BUSINESS!” The words were shouted, and at such close range that Colin had to stop his ears. “Tavia has come here at my invitation and she will continue to visit as many times as she wishes. Do you understand?”

  “You will regret this,” Colin muttered. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Blair put his arms around her. “I am sorry,” he whispered.

  “It is not your fault,” Tavia replied, then smiled at him, wiping away tears. “I must go to the new mother.”

  He kissed her once, softly. “Go,” he whispered, then watched as she walked away.

  Tavia found mother and baby dozing in bed together, and she felt a tug of longing so strong that she wished she could take Catriona’s place. She suddenly longed to be a mother, but only to Blair’s child; she could not wait to be his wife.

  She took a look at the baby’s color and listened to his gentle breathing, then prepared to go out again, but at that moment Catriona opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at her.

  “Good morning,” Tavia said, her voice soft so as not to wake the baby. “How are you feeling?”

  “Very sore!” she replied. “But we are both well, thank the Lord. Thank you for your service last night—I do not know what I can do to show you how grateful I am.”

  “It is a privilege to watch a new life coming into the world.” Tavia smiled.

  “We must be related,” Catriona said thoughtfully. “I have sisters who look like you.”

  “You look like me!” Tavia laughed.

  At that moment the baby woke up and began to wriggle, flailing his tiny fists around as if in preparation for a fight. Tavia watched as he drew in a breath for an almighty bellow, but it did not happen. Catriona gave him her breast and he began to suckle furiously with little grunts and snuffles of satisfaction.

  Tavia giggled at the sight of the little mouth working furiously to get his nourishment. How perfectly designed we are! she thought. She imagined Blair standing holding his tiny son or daughter proudly and protectively, or watching fondly as she fed him. Presently, she realized that Catriona was speaking to her, but she had been miles away, lost in her own thoughts.

  “Blair has told us a little bit about you,” Catriona told her, “but I would love to know a few more things.”

  “Of course,” Tavia replied, and smiled. “I would like to know the truth just as much as you do.” While she was speaking she went to fill a goblet of ale for Catriona. “You must be thirsty,” she observed. “Someone is drinking you dry.”

  “Definitely!” Catriona laughed, and drank the entire goblet then asked for another, which she disposed of just as quickly.

  At that moment Alan came in and grinned as he saw his wife and son snuggled together. “Good morning all!” he said heartily. He kissed his wife and child then looked at Tavia. “We need to have a talk, Tavvy.”

  “We do,” she agreed. “But first I think we should let young Master Weir finish his breakfast!”

  17

  Finding Out the Truth

  Tavia had breakfast brought up to them, and shortly thereafter Camden joined them. He was fascinated by the baby and laughed when he put his finger in the little one’s mouth who then began to suck ferociously.

  When they had finished eating Tavia began to talk.

  “I remember being in the water,” Tavia said, her eyes dreamy and far away as she looked back into the past. “I was holding onto my mother’s hand, and I remember thinking that as long as I held on I would be safe. I cannot remember her face, though. I can only remember her screaming every time her head came above the water.” She paused to wipe her eyes.

  “Please do not go on if this is too painful for you,” Catriona begged.

  “No—it is better that we all know the truth,” Tavia sighed. “I do not know how much Blair has told you, but I can tell you more. I remember my head going under the water, trying to breathe, but my lungs filled with water. Then I was being shaken, then I was coughing, and the next thing I recall was waking up in a warm bed with a woman bending over me. She had black hair and her eyes were like shiny buttons to my child’s mind. When she smiled she had creases at the corners of her eyes and dimples in her cheeks. Her name was Maureen Donald and she is my mother—the only one I have ever known, the only one I love.” She paused to take a drink of ale. “She asked me what my name was, but I could not remember. She asked me many questions but I could not recollect anything...and I cannot do so to this day.”

  “So you cannot remember anything of your life before that?” Alan asked.

  Tavia shook her head. “Nothing. I am sorry and I wish I could tell you more,” she said regretfully. “I have tried. I have nightmares about it, and sometimes I almost recall something but I wake up in a cold sweat and it has gone away.”

  “You do not remember anyone in your past who looks like both of us?” Catriona asked, somewhat desperately now.

  I already said I did not! Tavia thought mutinously, then reminded herself why Catriona was asking. She felt slightly ashamed as she shook her head.

  “When did this happen?” Alan asked, frowning. “Which month?”

  “The beginning of January,” Tavia replied. “The second I think.”

  Catriona put a hand to her mouth and gasped. “Their boat set out a day after New Years eve!”

  Just then, Blair came back in. “Are you all right, Catriona?” he inquired, concerned.

  “Yes,” Alan replied, “but something strange has come up. It seems that Tavia was washed ashore the same day Duncan and Gavina’s boat set out. It is a strange coincidence, if coincidence it is.”

  “I think we must summon Archie and Maureen,” Blair said thoughtfully. “They will have to close the shop, though.”

  “This is too important a matter to worry about one day’s takings!” Tavia exclaimed. “Can you send a cart, Blair? Only my father can ride, and horses terrify my mother.”

  “I will organize it,” he replied, kissing her. “Do not worry, Tavvy. This will all fall into place, I am sure of it.”

  She watched him as he walked away. He had such presence and strength, and she knew that if she leaned on him he would always be rock steady.

  Catriona followed the direction of her gaze. “A fine man,” she observed, smiling
.

  Tavia got up to change the baby before putting him to sleep. “The finest one I ever met,” she agreed. When she had changed him, she held him in her arms for a few moments. His face was still red, squashed, and wrinkled from the birth, and he was blowing little bubbles. “So precious,” she whispered, and kissed the tiny forehead.

  Catriona and Alan smiled at each other. They knew a broody woman when they saw one!

  Maureen was sitting sewing when Blair came in. “Good morning, young man!” she greeted him, smiling. He grinned back at her, now thoroughly at ease in her presence. “We heard aboot the babby!”

  “Yes,” he laughed. “I can see that Tavvy is already smitten! I wanted to ask you something.”

  Just then, Archie came in. Blair was not quite so comfortable with him, but he greeted him politely with a bow. “Good morning, Mister Donald,” he said, smiling. “I need to ask a favor of both of you.”

  “Tell us,” Archie replied. “And we will see if we can oblige.”

  They both looked at him expectantly.

  “When I was in Inverness a few days ago I met a young couple called Catriona and Alan Weir,” he began. “The woman looked strikingly like Tavvy, and I wondered if there might be some family connection. I would like you to come and meet them, if you have time...and if you wish to, of course.”

  Archie and Maureen looked at each other.

  “Of course we want to!” Archie exclaimed. “Tavvy has always wanted to know about her family. Who are we to deny her?” He stood up and took Maureen’s hand. “Lead on,” he ordered.

  “I will go ahead,” Blair told them, “and meet you there. Tavvy is very nervous, since she thinks you may be upset about this.”

  Maureen answered. “She knaws I didnae give birth tae her. ‘Tis only natural she wants tae knaw who did!”

  Blair nodded. “I agree,” he said to both of them. “I hope you solve this mystery for her sake. It would mean a great deal to her.”

  “An’ tae us,” Maureen replied. “Ye love ‘er very much, M’Laird, de ye no’?”

  Blair looked at her and nodded, a little embarrassed. “Yes,” he murmured. “I would do anything for her, and I think I knew that the first time I saw her.”

  Archie looked at the big, handsome man in front of him, his tone and expression now completely softened as he spoke of his daughter. This was how he had felt when he had first met Maureen. As soon as he laid eyes on her his enduring ambition to dedicate his life to God disappeared before his eyes. Love for a woman made a man weak in the best possible way, and he was beginning to see that what Blair felt for Tavia was real and true.

  He patted the young laird on the shoulder and smiled at him. “In that case I wish you well,” he said warmly. “I know what it is to love a woman more than life itself. We are very fortunate.”

  “Indeed we are,” Blair agreed.

  The cart would take an hour to get to the castle, so Blair made the journey slowly too, and stopped halfway up the hill to look downhill to the sea. It was a dry day, but as usual there were leaden gray clouds in the sky. Blair had always thought that these had their own kind of glowering, sullen beauty, and they lent their somber color to the sea below, flecked with stripes of foam that looked like the manes of white horses.

  This afternoon, the tide was out, and there was a long strip of amber sand where the water met the land; Blair knew that if he put his toe in it, it would be likely to turn to ice and fall off. He laughed at the thought, then looked further down at the hill he was standing on. The heather had died for the year and faded to a dark rust-brown, but the gorse was still there, its bright yellow flowers defying the dull shades of the day.

  Great dark green fir and pine trees stood like sentries, and here and there the bones of the earth showed through in the great granite boulders that had thrust their way through it. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky, suddenly feeling an overwhelming happiness sweep over him.

  He had everything a man could ever want. He had a home, he lived in the most beautiful part of the loveliest country on Earth, and now he had found his love. Life could not be more wonderful.

  When Maureen saw Catriona her jaw fell open. “My God, lass, ye could be sisters!” Then she remembered her manners. “Sorry hen, I am Maureen Donald.”

  “Catriona Weir,” she said. “And this is my husband Alan.” Alan smiled, bowed, and the rest of the formalities were taken care of. Just then, Tavia came back into the room. Maureen and Archie looked from one to the other. There could be no doubt about it; if they were not sisters they were aunt and niece, or cousins, or half-sisters, but there was a blood tie of some degree that bound them together.

  “Where do you live?” Archie asked Catriona curiously.

  “Inverness,” Alan replied. “But we travel quite a lot. I trade in wool, and I go to the wool fairs, and sometimes Catriona comes with me. I did not want her to come this time because of the baby, but she insisted—and you know how hard it is to resist these ladies!”

  Blair and Archie laughingly agreed.

  “We were lucky Tavvy was here to deliver the baby for us,” Catriona said thankfully.

  “I was happy to be of service,” Tavia replied, smiling.

  “Can ye tell us why ye think you an’ Tavvy are related?” Archie asked.

  “Apart from the fact that we look alike?” Catriona asked. Maureen and Archie nodded, and Catriona told them about the coincidence of the dates. Suddenly Tavia drew in a breath and put her hand over her mouth, and everyone looked at her expectantly.

  “There was red, the color red next to me,” she said, her voice faint with shock. “It was a bright, scarlet red, waving about in the water. Maybe a coat or dress or something.” Why had she not remembered it before?

  “Gavina was wearing a red coat when she left that day,” Catriona said excitedly. “It was a new one Duncan had bought her and she was so proud that she wore it everywhere.” She looked at Alan, a question in her eyes. “Do you think it could be her?”

  Alan shrugged. “It sounds possible,” was all he said. “Did they bury any of them here?”

  “All of them,” Archie replied. “But I have no idea if Tavvy’s parents were there, or even if their bodies were found. They were all stripped of anything that might identify them by looters.”

  There was silence for a moment, each of them thinking their own thoughts, then suddenly Tavia said, as if she were dreaming, “The Maid of the Isles.” Then her voice became firmer. “A man told me the boat was called ‘The Maid of the Isles.’”

  18

  Last Piece of the Puzzle

  Catriona gasped. “Gavina, Arabel, and Duncan went on that boat!” She leaned forward eagerly. “What did the man look like, Tavvy?”

  “I only remember his eyes,” Tavia replied, screwing up her face in concentration. “They were blue, pale...icy blue.” She shook her head in exasperation, but nothing else came to her.

  “My God!” Catriona fell back on her pillow. “Those were Duncan’s eyes! He had the most pale, horrible eyes I have ever seen. They were like fishes’ eyes. I am sorry, Tavvy, but I think you might be talking about your father. He was very tall, and had black hair that was starting to go bald at the front. He forced you two to go to Orkney with him. He said he wanted to see his father before he died, but I think there was another reason.” She stopped suddenly. “I am sorry, Tavvy, I am upsetting you.”

  “I cannot believe I remembered that!” Tavia said in disbelief. “Maybe it is because I met you, but I had not recalled any of that before. No, Catriona, please go on. I want to hear the truth.”

  “The farm William Macaskill owned was quite a prosperous one,” she began. “And he was a mean old man. He pretended to be poor, but in fact he was quite comfortably off. Duncan knew that his father was going to sell the Macaskill farm before he died and he wanted to stop him, and he also thought there was something valuable there, but he would never say what.”

  “Why did he not want to leave t
he estate to his son?” Tavia asked, puzzled. “And why did he insist on taking us with him? We could have waited for him to come and get us.”

  “Because he had no intention of coming back,” Catriona answered bitterly. “He was going to take you and Gavina away and we knew he would not allow you to return.

  “The reason the old man wanted to sell Macaskill Farm and its surrounding land was so that he could give it to the church, who would have been very glad to get it, as you well know. The church is always glad to add to its riches.” Again, there was a deeply cynical note in her voice. “William claimed to have had a revelation from God. Personally I think he was starting to become a wee bit touched in his old age.

  “Tavia, you are, in fact, nobility. Your other grandfather was the Laird of Kilmore. I am actually your aunt, and Camden and the wee one are your cousins. And you are the Maid Tavia of Kilmore, although your given name is Arabel.”

  Archie and Maureen looked at each other, uncertain of what to do or say. Tavia, seeing their look, threw herself into her parents’ arms. “You will always be my mother and father!” she cried. “And I will always be called Tavia.”

  Maureen laid her head on her daughter’s shoulder. “Ye were oors the first minute we laid eyes on ye, hen!” she said, sighing. “It wis love at first sight!”

  Archie laughed too, then came forward to hug and kiss her fondly.

  “I cannot believe it!” Tavia paced around the room, unable to take in the news. “So I was christened Arabel Mackaskill. And I have a birthday?”

  Catriona nodded happily. “August the twentieth.”

  Just then, the baby woke up again, and Catriona put him to her breast. Tavia glanced sideways at Blair, and saw him gazing at the baby. It took a moment before she recognized the expression on his face.