Awoken: A Medieval Scottish Romance (The Sisters of Kilbride Book 2)

by Jayne Castel

  Everything was simpler now. Suddenly, all he wanted was to build a future with the woman he loved, have a family, and make his small-holding thrive. No longer would he feel compelled to do the bidding of a man he should never have sworn allegiance to.

  On this fine morning, as he walked toward his new home, he tasted true freedom.

  The sun was high in the sky when they reached their destination at last. Breathing hard, after climbing the last—and very steep—hill, Leanna halted beside her husband. Before them sat a low-slung stacked-stone cottage with a thatched roof in dire need of repair. A crumbling stone wall and overgrown garden surrounded the dwelling. A chorus of bleating greeted them from a flock of woolly white sheep grazing upon the hillside behind the cottage.

  Looking upon the dwelling, a slow smile spread across Leanna’s face.

  “I’m sorry it’s so small … I know it’s not what ye are used to.” The worry in Ross’s voice made her tear her attention from the untamed garden. He was watching her, his brow furrowed.

  “I’ve already told ye,” she replied with a shake of her head. “My days as a ‘lady’ are long gone. My time at Kilbride toughened me up.”

  “But I hadn’t realized the cottage would be so run down.”

  Leanna snorted, before she reached out and clasped his hand in hers. “It’s perfect, Ross … and I can’t wait to make it our own.”

  “This is for the abbess.” The messenger, a harried looking man in travel-stained leathers, handed Sister Coira a small roll of parchment, sealed with wax. “Can ye make sure she receives it?”

  Coira nodded, taking the scroll. “I will take it to her now … thank ye … may peace be with ye.”

  “And ye, Sister.” The man, who stood at the abbey gates, ducked his head before moving back over to his horse and swinging up into the saddle.

  Coira watched him move off, urging his lathered mount south. Then her gaze shifted to the furled message in her hand. She wondered whom it was from.

  Turning from the gates, Coira walked across the yard, under the deep shadow of the kirk, toward the abbess’s hall. It was just after the noon meal, a quiet time when all the nuns rested for a short while before beginning their afternoon chores. The day was sticky and windless, the first hot day of summer, and while her sisters rested upon their sleeping pallets, Coira had decided to go into the woods and collect herbs for her healing poultices and potions. Gathering herbs usually put her in a good mood, but she felt strangely restless today. Upon her return to the abbey, she’d been considering going into the kirk to pray, when the messenger had arrived.

  Life at Kilbride felt increasingly lonely of late. The two women she’d been closest to here—Sister Ella and Sister Leanna—had both left the abbey. Coira liked to think of herself as self-sufficient; she’d certainly been at Kilbride long enough to be able to endure solitude, yet she’d found herself often thinking of her friends.

  She’d heard that Ella was well. Word had arrived from Scorrybreac just a couple of weeks earlier that Ella was with child—happy news indeed, especially after the tragedies that had marked her early years. But no one had heard a word from Leanna. After the party escorting her to Duncaith had been ambushed, she’d simply disappeared.

  And as far as Coira knew, MacKinnon’s search for her had been unsuccessful.

  Coira raised a hand and knocked briskly on the door to the abbess’s hall, suppressing a shudder as an image of Duncan MacKinnon’s face surfaced.

  He’d visited Kilbride a handful of times over the years, and she’d always managed to keep out of sight. But the last time, she knew he’d seen her—and she thought she’d seen recognition flicker in those iron-grey eyes.

  She hoped that wasn’t the case.

  While MacKinnon and his men had searched the abbey, she’d remained in the kirk, silently praying before the altar. She’d heard heavy footfalls as men entered and searched the alcoves nearby—yet none of the warriors spoke to her.

  Tension had slowly ebbed from Coira at that—maybe MacKinnon hadn’t recognized her after all. Nonetheless, she’d have to be more careful in future.

  “Enter.” Mother Shona’s voice, soft yet firm, filtered out into the humid air.

  Coira pushed the door open and walked into the cool, lofty space beyond. The abbess’s hall was a long space divided in two by a heavy hanging that shrouded the sleeping quarters from the living area. It was a clean, simply furnished space with a scrubbed flagstone floor, a small wooden desk, and a hearth flanked by two high-backed chairs. Mother Shona sat upon one, a heavy leather-bound book upon her knee.

  “A message has come for ye, Mother.” Coira crossed the floor to the abbess and handed her the scroll before lowering herself on one knee so that Mother Shona could bless her.

  Once the abbess had done so, she rose to her feet and turned to go.

  “Please stay, Sister Coira,” the abbess said with a smile, gesturing to the chair opposite. “Let’s see who has written to us.”

  Coira did as bid, settling into the chair without comment. She wasn’t a ‘chatty’ woman, and fortunately Mother Shona seemed to appreciate nuns who didn’t feel the need to fill a silence with conversation. Even so, as the abbess began to undo the scroll, her gaze settled upon Coira—and she frowned.

  “Is something amiss, Sister … ye have seemed a little distracted of late.”

  Coira tensed. She sometimes forgot just how perceptive the abbess was; she missed very little and was highly attuned to the moods of those living within the walls of Kilbride.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Coira replied with a weak smile. Although the abbess was the only one here who knew most of the truth about Coira’s past, she’d never confided in Mother Shona about her history with Duncan MacKinnon—and didn’t intend to. Some things could never be spoken about. “I suppose I just worry for Sister Leanna.”

  Mother Shona’s gaze clouded, and she nodded. “As do I.”

  Unfurling the missive and scanning it, the abbess’s expression suddenly cleared. “What a happy coincidence, Sister. This letter is from Leanna … she is well and—” The abbess broke off there as her brown eyes grew wide. She glanced up then, her gaze spearing Coira’s. “She’s married.”

  Epilogue

  Breathless

  The Isle of Barra, Scotland

  One month later …

  LEANNA LEANED OVER the pot, brow furrowing in concentration while she sprinkled some fresh rosemary in. The mutton stew had been simmering since dawn, and a rich meaty aroma filled the interior of the cottage. It was nearly ready to serve.

  Stepping back from the hearth, Leanna wiped her arm over her sweating brow. The air was smoky and close inside the dwelling despite that she had opened both the small windows.

  Golden summer light filtered into the one-room space, and for a moment Leanna paused, taking in her surroundings.

  The cottage had been a mess when they’d first arrived—the roof had needed fixing, and rodents and cobwebs filled the filthy interior. After a couple of days, Leanna had scoured it clean and set about making it comfortable to live in.

  Ross had repaired the gaps in the roof, and Leanna had gotten to work filling their shelves with stores and drying bunches of herbs, which scented the once musty air.

  A heavy blanket curtained off the living space from the stuffed straw mattress where she and Ross slept. However, Leanna had drawn back the curtain this morning to air the bed.

  Leanna’s breathing quickened a little when her gaze rested upon the mattress. Her days were long and tiring, yet every evening excitement curled in the pit of her belly in anticipation of retiring for the night with her husband. One month since their wedding, and she was still discovering carnal desire, still delighting in new ways to be pleasured and give pleasure.

  And every morning when she awoke and looked upon her husband’s face, joy filtered through her, along with a sense of belonging she’d never before experienced.

  Letting out a contented sigh, Leanna wiped her han
ds upon the apron that covered the plain brown kirtle she wore and walked outdoors.

  The garden was another thing that she’d transformed over the past moon. When they’d arrived here, it had been overgrown, a wild tangle of herbs and vegetables, many of which had simply self-seeded in the wrong places.

  There, in one corner grew the apple tree sapling she’d planted in honor of her father. Ross had brought it back one day after a trip to market. The tree was getting a foothold in the stony soil this year, but next summer she hoped it would bear fruit. There were also two older apple trees growing on the slope behind the cottage, which would hopefully pollinate it.

  The rest of the garden was slowly taking shape.

  Remembering Ella’s advice—for her friend was a gifted gardener and had been in charge of Kilbride’s vast vegetable plots—Leanna had worked systematically. She’d started at the southern corner of the garden and worked her way to the north. Beds of woody herbs, such as rosemary, sage, and thyme now grew separate from the leafier plants, such as parsley and mint. Leanna was also growing beds of kale, cabbages, carrots, and onions, and she had just put in a small turnip crop.

  Ross had kept her company through most of her work, as he spent days fixing the crumbling wall that encircled the cottage. This morning though, he’d been out with the dogs, moving the sheep to another pasture. He was due back any time now.

  Walking along the path, between beds of lavender, Leanna smiled at the feel of the sun bathing her face. It had been a warm start to the summer, and although it could get windy upon the isle of Barra, she loved the wide skies here. Upon Skye you were never far from soaring mountains that always reminded you of how small and insignificant you were. Barra had a more intimate feel.

  As she reached the gate, Leanna swung her gaze right and caught sight of a tall, dark-haired figure striding over the hill toward her. Two shepherd dogs ran at his heels—stocky, hairy beasts with long bushy tails. Their names were Moss and Yarrow, a brother and sister of the same litter from a nearby farm. Fortunately for Ross, their former owner had done most of the work training them.

  Raising a hand to show that she’d seen him, Leanna walked through the gate to meet her husband.

  Her gaze devoured him as he approached.

  Black shoulder-length hair blowing in the wind, his skin lightly tanned after their spell of good weather, Ross wore a loose brown léine, unlaced at the neck, and tan braies. These days he carried a crook rather than a claidheamh-mor, and the tension that had once sharpened his handsome features had gone.

  Ross’s mouth curved into a wide smile, and Leanna’s belly somersaulted. He still had no idea how devastating his smile could be.

  “That stew smells incredible,” he greeted her. “I sniffed it before I crested the last hill.”

  “It should be,” Leanna replied with an answering grin, “I’ve been tending it long enough.”

  The dogs bounded up then, tongues lolling and tails wagging. They pushed at Leanna’s legs, but she ignored them for a moment, her gaze entirely fixed upon Ross.

  Likewise, his attention never left her. Stepping close, he clasped Leanna around the waist and pulled her into his embrace, his mouth covering hers.

  When he ended the kiss, they were both breathless.

  “Did ye have a good morning?” Leanna asked, trailing her hand down his chest. She could feel the heat of his skin through the léine’s thin material. “I hope the sheep behaved themselves.”

  “They’re a scatty bunch,” he replied with a snort, “but Moss and Yarrow know how to handle them.” He glanced down at where the two shepherd dogs were now seated at his side, tails thumping on the ground. He reached down and ruffled the hounds’ ears. “Without their help, I’d be running myself ragged over the hills of Barra.”

  Leanna laughed at the image. Sheep were notoriously nervy and foolish creatures that could often test a herder’s patience. She’d thought Ross might find them irritating, but the opposite was true. He was at his happiest when he returned from spending the morning with them.

  “How are their fleeces growing?” Leanna asked. She was aware that lamb’s wool was a valuable commodity. They would shear the sheep next spring, and it would hopefully bring them in some extra silver. Until then, they had to gain the supplies they needed by bartering meat and vegetables. Ross still had a little silver left, but they preferred to keep it in reserve, for the long winter ahead.

  “It’s decent wool,” Ross replied. “Although a little harsher than the breeds on the mainland … it’s the meat that’ll get us the most coin though.”

  Leanna nodded, before she stepped to Ross’s side and linked her arm through his. Together they headed toward the gate. “Speaking of meat … that stew ye can smell is ready now.”

  As they stepped into the garden, Ross paused and surveyed his surroundings. “This space is unrecognizable, love,” he said softly. “I can’t believe what ye have achieved in just one moon.”

  Leanna flashed him a grin, pleased by the compliment. “I told ye I was resourceful … I’m not some decorative lass, only fit for embroidering and bearing bairns.”

  Ross grinned back. “I shouldn’t have doubted ye.” He sobered then, turning to Leanna and taking her hands. Meanwhile the dogs ran ahead before flopping down next to the entrance to the cottage, where Leanna had left them out two large shin bones. “It occurred to me this morning just how isolated our life here is … ye don’t feel lonely, do ye?”

  “Sometimes,” Leanna admitted. She liked to be honest with Ross; it wasn’t in her nature to hold back how she felt. “I didn’t really enjoy being a nun … but the thing I miss about Kilbride is the female company.” She cast him a wry look. “Women like to talk while they work … sometimes I find myself chattering to the plants as I garden.”

  Ross’s lips quirked at her admission. “Now that we’re settled here, I think it’s time we started to socialize more with the locals. I saw Fergus MacNeil this morning … he and his wife have invited us to supper next week, if ye are keen?”

  A smile flowered across Leanna’s face at this suggestion. Fergus MacNeil—a second cousin to the MacNeil chieftain—was the farmer who’d looked after these lands before their arrival. Leanna had met his young wife shortly after they’d moved in. She’d seemed like a sweet, if shy, woman, and Leanna was pleased that she’d extended the hand of friendship to them.

  “I’d like that,” she replied. “It’s important that we make ourselves part of the community here.”

  Ross’s expression turned serious. “Aye, but we must still be careful.”

  “I know ye are wise to keep our real identities secret,” Leanna replied. “But we can’t live like fugitives forever. We have to start trusting folk … once winter comes, we might need their help.”

  “Ye are right, mo ghràdh.” Ross favored her with a lopsided smile. “How did I find myself such a wise woman?”

  Leanna snorted at his teasing before giving him a playful slap on the arm. “Fortune was shining upon ye indeed, ye rogue.”

  Ross stepped close, his expression softening. He reached out and cupped her face with his. “I mean it, love.”

  He leaned in, brushing his lips softly over hers. Heat spiraled up from Leanna’s belly. She inhaled the musk of his skin, overlaid with the smell of leather and the oily taint of sheep’s wool. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into him. The kiss deepened, and Leanna reached out, her hands exploring the solid breadth of his shoulders.

  Eventually, she drew back, breaking off the kiss. Once again, his touch left her breathless, wanting. Ross’s eyes had darkened in a look she knew well. One more embrace, and he’d scoop her into his arms and carry her off to bed. And as much as she wanted him to do that, she had an afternoon of chores waiting for her—they both did.

  “Come on,” she said softly, taking Ross by the hand. “I don’t want that stew to burn.”

  “It can keep,” he growled before he pulled her against him once more. “This can’t.�
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  The End

  Read Book #3 in the series!

  FALLEN (Book #3: The Sisters of Kilbride) is now available on preorder—release date: June 25, 2020.

  A woman running from her past. An outlaw determined to triumph over his. The twisted clan-chief who hunts them both. Redemption and healing wounded hearts in Medieval Scotland.

  Sister Coira has a secret. She once worked in a brothel and was the favorite plaything of the MacKinnon clan-chief. But since fleeing the hardship of her old life, she has made a new one for herself—as a nun.

  Unfortunately, the past has a way of catching up with you.

  Coira’s new identity is put in peril the day the leader of an outlaw band turns up badly hurt at the abbey. The clan-chief has put a price on his head, and although she can’t turn an injured man away, Coira knows his presence at Kilbride will put them all in danger.

  Craeg MacKinnon has tainted blood. He’s the clan-chief’s bastard brother. Driven by vengeance, Craeg has become a thorn in his half-brother’s side—stealing from him and giving his wealth to the poor.

  Despite that she knows she shouldn’t, Coira finds herself irresistibly drawn to the outlaw. Likewise, Craeg can’t keep away from the enigmatic yet alluring healer who has saved his life—a woman who is forbidden to him.

  But as the clan-chief closes in, and the Black Death ravages the Isle of Skye, both Coira and Craeg’s lives will be changed forever.

  Preorder your copy here and it will be delivered to your Kindle on June 25th!

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  From the author

  I hope you enjoyed Ross and Leanna’s dramatic, high-action story of redemption and new beginnings. Initially, I’d planned this book to be all about the heroine’s ‘awakening’ to passion, but (as often happens with my stories), it turned out to be about Ross’s awakening just as much—if not more!