Taming the Highlander: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Novel

by Fiona Faris

  "Anyway," Angus concluded, slapping his hands down on the table in front of him to mark the end of that particular conversation. "The marriage is arranged, an’ we will just hae tae see how events shake themselves oot. We hae brought a much tae somber tone tae the proceedings; we hae a betrothal tae celebrate. More wine!" he cried in the direction of the serving maids before turning back to Cailean. "I will drink tae yer health, my son."

  "An’ I yers, my faither," Cailean rejoined with enthusiasm, a sinuous smile playing across his lips.

  As soon as it was seemly to do so, Siusan and her mother announced that they would retire for the night and leave the men to their business. They would have much to talk about, what with both a marriage to contract and the world to set to rights.

  At her announcement, Cailean rose from the table with alacrity to discharge his gentlemanly obligations. He expressed his regret that he would no longer enjoy their pleasant company that evening.

  He pulled back Siusan's chair as she stood up and handed her from the table. Still holding her hand lightly between his fingertips, he inclined his head and wished her a good night, then turned and bowed to Shona and thanked her fulsomely for her gracious hospitality. He continued to stand as he watched them glide from the dais to the side door through which they had first entered, before resuming his seat and his conversation with Angus and Cailean.

  As soon as Siusan had passed through the door from public view, she dropped all pretense of imperturbable grace, hitched up her gown, and took to her heels up the spiral stairs, with Shona doing her best not to fall too far behind her.

  "How dare they?" Siusan seethed. "How dare they treat me like a chattel tae be bought an’ sold, with no’ even the pretense that the transaction was anything more than that?"

  "Hush, dear!" Shona said as she rushed through the door. "It means nothing… Though they could hae been a little less insensitive."

  In her imagination, Siusan saw again the strikingly elegant figure of Cailean Campbell in his well-tailored doublet and trews, the cut of the latter showing off his well-shaped thighs, his carefully trimmed white-blond hair, the rosy pink of his smooth-shaven cheeks, his musky scent. She heard his confident and cultured voice, with its clipped consonants and nasal vowels, and his sparkling wit ringing like poetry in her ears. He was, as her mother had said, a 'fine catch'. And yet he had seemed so distant and detached; she felt no connection with him. There had been no emotional communication between them; their conversation, such as it was, had been nothing but words.

  "Insensitive?" Siusan turned on her mother. "Yon Cailean Campbell has all the sensitivity o’ a stone. I hae ne’er afore had tae converse with anyone who was so distant an’ aloof. Did ye see him, Maither? Every time I tried tae talk tae him, he would look at me as if I were an unwelcome irritation, a distraction. Oh, he was polite an’ courteous, the perfect gentleman in fact. His manners were impeccable, an’ he affected all the proper airs an’ graces. But he was so cold… Honestly! I wish there had been a fish course; I would hae received more warmth from an eel."

  Her mother felt her disappointment and anguish. It had not been what her daughter had expected; her dreams of living happily ever after like a princess with her charming prince had all been punctured as soon as they had collided with the reality of what it meant to be a chieftain's daughter. She was a chattel to be bargained over; that was the simple truth of it, as now she knew.

  Shona smiled and shook her head, wrinkling her nose.

  "Shush, Siusan," she cooed. "It is as I said afore, this morning; it is just the way o’ things. It will come right in the end. He may no’ feel anything fer ye now, though I find that hard tae believe, but he will in time when ye are settled taegether an’ hae gotten tae ken each other better. Once ye hae begun tae share a life, the love will come; an’ if no’ love, then an accommodation at least. Ye will enjoy at Inveraray all the fine things ye hae dreamt o’, an’ if will an’ grace combine, affection will grow between ye."

  "But whit if it doesn't? Whit if he continues tae be so distant an’ alien from me? Whit if that is just whit he is like?"

  Shona placed her hands on Siusan's shoulders and drew in her lips with an anxiety of her own, anxiety for her daughter's future happiness.

  "Then ye will hae all those fine things tae console ye," she told her. "An’, God willing, children as a blessing."

  Chapter Five

  The following day

  Uilleam and his two companions rode into the courtyard of Clyth Castle.

  The courtyard was busy with industry. Stable lads were wheeling barrow loads of dung out of the stables and hefting in clean straw and hay on the ends of long wooden forks. The steady clang of hammer on anvil rung out from the forge, while the farrier scraped and filed a horse's hoof outside the smith's shop in preparation for it being re-shod. A small troop of maids was bearing armfuls of linen from the keep to the laundry, while a scullery lass was drawing water from the well in the center of the yard.

  All of them stopped what they were doing and turned their eyes to the three mighty stallions that clattered and snorted their way onto the cobblestones from the outer ward to take in the sight of the three fierce warriors sitting tall and imperious in their saddles.

  Angus Mor appeared at the door of the keep, flanked by three fierce warriors of his own, each with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  "MacGregor," he greeted the big red-haired leader of the horsemen. "I trust ye come in peace. If so, ye are welcome."

  "We come in peace, Angus Mor," Uilleam announced in a loud, clear voice.

  As he spoke, Siusan appeared by her father's side.

  "But whit brings ye oot o’ Glen Strae an’ intae Gunn lands?” Angus inclined his head.

  Uilleam smiled and eased his weight in his saddle, letting his eyes scan the walkways on the battlements.

  "I hae some business I would discuss with ye."

  Angus nodded slowly, studying Uilleam with an appraising look.

  "Very well!" he said, his curiosity aroused. "Then we should repair tae the great hall tae discuss that business. Siusan." He turned to his daughter. "Go tae the kitchens an’ arrange fer food an’ drink tae be brought fer the MacGregor men." He turned back to the three riders. "My grooms will see tae yer horses. Please, welcome tae Clyth."

  While her father led the MacGregors and his own bodyguard into the great hall, Siusan hurried off to discharge her errand.

  Her heart was beating furiously, and her thoughts were a swirl. She found herself again at once repelled and attracted by the MacGregor chiel. He was handsome in a way that stirred a flame low in her belly. He was tall and broad; the bulging muscles of his arms and legs looked as if they had been hewn from the rock of the mountains, and those parts of his chest that could be glimpsed through the open neck of his shirt were like the large flat blinns that littered the stony burns. She could barely stand to meet with her own eye the fiery blue intensity of his look, while the wildness of his burning red hair and beard fed that fluttering flame she felt deep within her bowels.

  Yet, he was also so coarse and unfeeling and cruel. She thought back to the casual manner in which he had dealt with those outlaws who had attacked her. She also remembered the impertinence he had shown towards her, his seeming indifference to both her feelings and her charms as he had belittled her mare and ridden off as if it mattered little to him whether she followed him or not.

  There was also the matter of his having appeared to her in her dream of the afternoon before. A shiver ran its chill finger down her spine at the thought of that. What was she to make of it? Was it an omen, a premonition of some sort? And if so, was that omen good or ill?

  As she made her way into the kitchen range, she was shaken by an unfamiliar and uncharacteristic feeling of doubt and misgiving. Her composure had been shaken by the appearance of this Uilleam MacGregor; the ground, which had all her life felt so firm and secure beneath her feet, was suddenly shifting alarmingly.

  Angus, Uilleam,
Angus' three bodyguards, and Uilleam's two companions, Lewis and Gillespie, entered the great hall on the second floor of the keep. Several indoor servants were still there, replacing in their sconces the spent candles and torches from the night before, refreshing the rushes on the floor, and replenishing the supply of logs and peats that were stacked beside the fireplace. Three or four deerhounds skulked guiltily around the hall, nosing at the swept up piles of soiled rushes in search of food scraps from the previous night's feast. The late morning sunlight slanted through in the narrow window slits set high in the walls, dust motes suspended in its barred beams.

  Angus and Uilleam sat at the table on the dais at the top end of the hall, while Angus' bodyguards and Uilleam's companions took up positions on opposite sides of the hall, each group eyeing the other suspiciously.

  "I hae sent fer James, my son," Angus informed Uilleam matter-of-factly. "He will be here presently."

  They lapsed into a confident silence, neither man having anything more to say in the meantime and neither being a great one for small talk. The pair of them listened to the regular rasp of the servants' besoms on the flagstones and their low whispers as they went about their work. The distant industry of kitchen and courtyard rose faintly beyond the thick walls of the tower.

  Shortly, James hurried into the hall to join his father and their visitor at the conference table.

  Angus turned leisurely in his chair to introduce him.

  "My son, James," he announced. "James, this is Uilleam MacGregor, son o’ Iain, Chief of the MacGregors of Glen Strae. I do no’ ken if ye hae afore met," he added.

  "No, Faither, I do no’ think I hae made his acquaintance," James replied, giving Uilleam a curt nod but offering no other form of acknowledgment.

  If Uilleam had noticed the slight in James' cool reception, he showed no sign. He, like Angus, lounged back in his chair and smiled amiably at James. But behind that smile, his eyes were appraising him shrewdly.

  Without another word, James took his seat at the table beside them and tried to focus his wits. He was still suffering the effects of the feasting of the night before. His head felt as if it had been stuffed with straw, and the sour smell of spilled wine that still lingered in the soiled rushes was making the bile rise from his stomach and into his throat. He had been called from his bed, to which he had returned after seeing his friend, Cailean, off earlier in the morning, and was annoyed by the fact. He also knew the MacGregor's reputation as a sly and scheming fox and was suspicious of his purpose in being there. Whatever that purpose was, it could not be a good one.

  Angus placed his broad palms on the surface of the table, a signal that the business they were about to discuss had begun.

  "Now," Angus said, easing around in his chair to consider Uilleam. "The MacGregor says that he has some business tae propose. Whit would that business be?"

  Uilleam leaned forward, placed his forearm on the table, and, resting his weight on it, looked Angus unwaveringly in the eye.

  "I propose a marriage, between yer daughter an’ myself, tae seal an affinity between the MacGregors an’ the Gunns."

  Both Angus and James sat up, wide-eyed with astonishment. That was the last thing that either of them had expected.

  After a moment, James laughed dismissively.

  "I am afraid ye hae come tae late, my friend; Siusan is already pledged tae Cailean Campbell. Their betrothal was established last night."

  Uilleam waved the point aside as if it were an irrelevancy.

  "Aye, I did hear talk o’ that. However," he said, fixing his eyes on Angus' again with something like a challenge, "I would hope tae prevail upon the good sense an’ wisdom o’ Angus Mor in accepting my alternative proposal."

  James' hackles rose. He could not believe the audacity of the man, coming there, to Clyth Castle, and telling Angus Mor what was best for the Gunns.

  "There is no need tae even hear yer ‘alternative’ proposal, let alone consider it," he replied dryly. "A pledge has been made tae the Campbells; it cannae be broken."

  Uilleam gave him a wink.

  "Oh, pledges can always be broken," he observed, "if ye hae courage enough."

  James bristled. Therein lay a barely disguised challenge and insult. Uilleam was casting doubt on their family’s courage.

  "Oh, I hae courage enough," James said in a low ominous voice through gritted teeth, just managing to keep a rein on his temper. "I hae courage enough tae slit yer throat, should ye dare tae cast aspersions on oor courage. At least we are men o’ honor an’ no’ just damned cattle thieves."

  He had risen to his feet as he spoke, and his hand had gone to the handle of his dirk.

  Lewis and Gillespie shifted uneasily against the wall where they were standing, their movement mirrored by Angus' men, who stood on the opposite side of the hall from them.

  Angus noticed the movement and feared bloodshed.

  "Sit down, James," he said impatiently. "Let us at least listen tae whit the MacGregor has tae say." He turned to Uilleam, a look of misgiving on his face. "Continue, man!"

  "The way I see it is that,” Uilleam reasoned, “while the MacDougalls were a power in the land, they an’ the Campbells could battle it oot, an’ the rest o’ us could just get on with oor lives. However, now that the MacDougall's are more or less confined tae their stronghold at Dunstaffnage, the Campbells hae been left with more or less a free hand, an’ they have been expanding their domain further an’ further intae the north an’ east of Argyll. With this new castle at Kylquhurne, they will control the mouths o’ Mhoille, Orchy, an’ Strae. I reckon that, if they go unchecked, the clans o’ those three glens will soon be mere septs, or at best clients, o’ an all-powerful Clan Campbell. Is that whit ye want tae see, with yer marriage agreement?"

  James was on the verge of rising to his feet again, but Angus stayed him by clamping a firm hand on his arm.

  "In alliance with the Campbells,” James stated, “we will at least be safe from having oor throats cut an’ oor cattle lifted by the damned MacGregors. The Campbells will bring us peace—"

  "Aye, the peace o’ the grave." Uilleam shrugged his shoulders. "If that is whit ye want fer Glen Orchy, then all well an’ good. I shall take myself back tae Glen Strae an’ prepare tae fight, tae the death if necessary, tae defend the freedom an’ honor o’ my clan. If those things mean nothing tae ye, then... Well, Hell shall mend ye."

  James was on his feet again, his dirk in hand.

  From both sides of the hall came the rasp of swords being unsheathed.

  "Sit on yer arse, James!" Angus commanded. "I'll hae no blood spilled in the great hall, especially that o’ a guest, an’ a guest who has so lately rendered us such a great service in defending my daughter, yer sister."

  At the mention of Siusan, a broad grin blossomed across Uilleam’s jaw. She was a fine-looking lass, he thought, with her golden hair, breasts that would fill both hands, and broad hips.

  He could be happy with a winsome wench like that.

  Uilleam and his men departed Clyth Castle as soon as his interview with Angus and James had concluded.

  James was glad to see the back of him, and Angus had promised to give careful consideration to his proposal.

  Siusan had watched them depart with mixed feelings. From the window of her chamber, she had seen them mount their powerful stallions, noting Uilleam's tall straight back and broad shoulders, the sculpted muscles of his legs where his kilt fell away from them as he sat astride his horse, and the flaming of his red features. There was certainly more vibrancy, more virility about him than there was about Cailean Campbell, who now appeared rather insipid to Siusan in comparison. But that very virility also frightened her, even as it stirred a hunger in her belly. While part of her would not have been troubled were she never to suffer the sight of him again, another part yearned to be swept up in those thick muscular arms and to feel that rough beard rubbing against her soft cheek.

  Uilleam MacGregor was a coarse brute of a man, but she
felt drawn to him nonetheless.

  Chapter Six

  The evening of the same day

  After evening dine, at the end of what had been a very long and eventful day, the family had gathered in the privacy of the castle solar.

  Usually, this was a time of quiet and relaxation, prior to their retiring to bed; however, that evening emotions were running high as Siusan's eventual fate was discussed.

  "The MacGregor chiel is a thoroughly unsuitable match fer my sister," James impressed upon his father. "Did ye no’ see how he quite openly ogled the serving girls? An’ I've had several complaints from other lassies aboot the castle regarding the conduct o’ him an’ his companions. They could no’ keep their hands tae themselves, it would seem."

  "He certainly could no’ keep his eyes off my breasts," Siusan added, "on the ride all the way home the other day an’ all the time we were together this afternoon in the hall."