by Jayne Castel
“Ye will one day be laird of Dunnottar,” she continued, reaching out and taking his hand. “Great responsibility will rest upon yer shoulders … but for now, ye are young … and carefree. Try to make the most of it.”
Robbie cocked his head. “Didn’t ye like being laird … doesn’t Da?”
Elizabeth smiled. “It’s a privilege to rule a castle like Dunnottar … but when the lives of many become yer responsibility, ye must weigh every decision carefully. Sometimes ye have to make yerself unpopular for the greater good … it isn’t always an easy mantle to bear.” She squeezed her son’s hand then, aware that she was becoming melancholy. “But ye don’t need to worry about such things … ye won’t need to take on the role for a while yet.”
Robbie watched her, and in his face, she saw her own inquisitiveness, her own desire for answers.
He really was a blend of the two of them.
“It’s Da ye are truly angry with, isn’t it?” Robbie said after a pause. “Ye hardly said a word to him when he visited me again at dawn.”
“I was focused on ye,” Elizabeth lied. She rose to her feet and started collecting up the bandages and clay bottles of unguents, placing them into her healer’s basket.
“But ye wouldn’t even glance at him.” Robbie pressed, clearly not finished with the subject. “I saw the look on his face afterward. He seemed … sad.”
Elizabeth’s chin jerked up.
Her son’s words, untutored and instinctive, were like a punch to the belly.
Sad?
Robbie favored her with a sheepish smile then. “It wasn’t his fault, Ma.”
Robert didn’t feel like celebrating Yule. The morning was bright and crisp, the snow a white veil over the hills around Dunnottar. The scent of roasting meat drifted through the keep, as did the sweet aroma of baking honey cakes—it was the smell of Yule, and at noon the folk of the keep would gather in the hall, under the garlands of ivy and mistletoe, to feast.
But Robert really wasn’t in the mood to join them.
After checking on Robbie, and weathering his wife’s cold shoulder, he’d gone out to the stables to look in on his courser and the errant Hunter. The pony was perfectly docile now, favoring him with a gentle nudge as he ducked into the stall.
“Morning, Trouble,” he murmured, scratching the garron behind the ears. “I hope ye are going to behave yerself from now on.”
The pony gave a snort in response. Picking up a coarse brush, Robert swept it over the garron’s thick winter coat. The beast didn’t really need grooming, but the action helped settle his mood, helped distract him from his own thoughts.
He would need to have words with Elizabeth at some point—although he wasn’t looking forward to it.
She’d looked at him as if he were the devil last night when he’d brought Robbie home injured. And this morning, she wouldn’t even meet his eye.
“Women,” he muttered, letting out his frustration as he continued to brush Hunter. “Do ye understand them, lad? I certainly don’t.”
He’d been sure he and Elizabeth had turned a corner the night previous. They’d spoken honestly and even lain together, and he’d finally felt as if he’d come home.
But now he was out in the cold again—literally.
Elizabeth made it plain where her true affections lay. Her son was her world, and he couldn’t really blame her for that. He’d been away for so long that Robbie had somehow taken his place in Elizabeth’s heart.
And now she thought he’d deliberately put their son in harm’s way.
I must tell her that it wasn’t the case.
He’d tried last night, but her icy stare had made the excuses die upon his lips, had made anger rise within him. Anything he might have said would have likely been twisted against him—and so he’d held his tongue.
Loneliness swept over him then, dousing any lingering resentment toward his wife, in a cold cloak that chilled him to the marrow despite that the air was relatively warm inside the stables. It wasn’t a new sensation—he’d weathered it for many years, but had thought he’d escaped it now he was home. Once again, he felt like an interloper. He was intruding on the life Elizabeth had built without him.
“Rob.”
He glanced up then as a woman’s voice cut through his brooding. Turning, he saw Elizabeth approaching, a fur mantle wrapped about her shoulders, her gaze fixed upon him.
“Liz,” he greeted her gruffly. “What are ye doing out here?”
“Looking for ye.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow. After the look she’d given him the last time he’d seen her, he’d imagined she’d wanted him to hurl himself from the walls. He hadn’t expected her to seek him out.
“Why didn’t ye tell me ye stopped Robbie’s pony from taking him over the cliff?” she asked.
Robert turned properly to face her. “Ye didn’t give me the chance.”
Her cheeks reddened then, for he hadn’t bothered to hide the note of chagrin in his voice.
“The lad fed the pony too many oats and then wondered why he couldn’t control him properly.” Robert continued when the silence between them drew out. “Hunter fought Robbie the whole way to the woods … but on the way home, he took the bit between his teeth and bolted.”
He cast a dark look over his shoulder at the pony, which was now innocently munching a mouthful of hay. When he glanced back at his wife, he saw that Elizabeth had drawn closer, her midnight-blue eyes—eyes he could drown in—wide and glittering.
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” she murmured, her voice husky. “It’s just that ….” Her voice died away as she struggled to explain herself.
Robert ducked out of the stall, rising to his full height before her.
“Ye don’t trust me fully yet, do ye?” he asked. His tone was gentle although hurt twisted within him as he asked the question.
Her throat bobbed, betraying the truth. “I want to,” she whispered. “It’s just that for so long, it’s only been Robbie and me … I’m not used to sharing him with anyone.” She swallowed hard and favored him with a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I’ll never be a match for his father.”
“Nonsense.” Robert moved closer to her, a little of the tension he’d carried in his gut all morning loosening. “Ye are his mother … no one can ever compete with that.”
“Aye, but it’s ye the lad admires,” she huffed a brittle laugh. “The lad would follow ye through the gates of Hell if ye asked it.” She broke off there, her gaze lowering.
“Liz?” Robert stepped up to her and reached out, his hands cupping her cheeks and raising her face so that their gazes met once more.
Her eyes brimmed with tears now. “And so would I, Rob,” she whispered.
A tear escaped, and he brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t weep, my love,” he whispered. “Do ye really think a wee misunderstanding between us would change how I feel about ye?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly.
He heaved in a deep breath. “Even after all these years apart, ye still know me better than anyone … and ye always will. I love ye, Liz.” The admission rushed out of him—and with it went the last remnants of tension. “This absence has only made what I feel for ye stronger. We have something that was made to last, mo chridhe … please remember that.”
She stared up at him, tears trickling down her cheeks. “And I love ye,” she whispered, “so much that it hurts to breathe.” A beat pulsed between them before she stretched up to him, her lips pressing against his.
An instant later, Robert’s arms went around her and he crushed her against him, his mouth claiming hers.
EPILOGUE
LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS
ELIZABETH TOOK HER place near the head of the table, to her husband’s left—and let the warm glow of contentment flow through her.
This was what she’d missed for so long—the sight of her husband seated in his carven chair at the head of the table.
Robert De
Keith, laird of Dunnottar.
Reaching under the table, she placed a hand upon his knee.
Robert’s gaze swiveled to her, a smile stretching across his handsome face.
Then, wordlessly, he placed a hand over hers. The warmth and strength of his hand made her breathing quicken, bringing her back to the stables, where he’d kissed her until they’d both been gasping for breath.
Servants appeared at the laird’s table then, bringing in platters of roasted venison and goose stuffed with chestnut.
Elizabeth held up her silver, gem-studded goblet to be filled with dark-red bramble wine, while her gaze traveled around the hall. They’d made a fine job of the decorations this year—the scent of pine from the boughs they’d hung over the fireplace perfumed the air, and the garlands of green and red gave the hall a festive air.
Like most folk here, Elizabeth had dressed in her finest clothes: a crimson kirtle and surcoat trimmed in snowy ermine. Next to her, Robert also wore a surcoat trimmed in ermine, the white contrasting with his rich brown hair.
Around them, the rumble of voices blended with the gentle lilt of a harp.
Elizabeth took it all in—her chest aching as tears threatened. She wasn’t a woman who wept at the slightest provocation, yet she had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay now.
They were tears of happiness.
Robbie hadn’t joined them for the Yuletide banquet unfortunately. Instead, he would eat his meal propped up in bed. Likewise, Gavina, Draco, and their brood were absent from the table.
They would have a quiet celebration at Gavina’s bedside.
But Cassian and Aila had joined the laird today—their two lads perched upon their knees, small hands reaching for pieces of venison. Aila wore a lovely emerald-green kirtle that contrasted with her creamy skin and walnut colored hair.
Farther down the table, Elizabeth spied Heather and Maximus and their two daughters. Pink-cheeked from the glow of the hearth, Heather looked as bonny as ever. She laughed then over something her husband had just said, her grey-green eyes twinkling. Beside her, Maximus Cato cut a striking figure, a wolfskin pelt wrapped around his broad shoulders. Silver now sprinkled the temples of his dark hair.
It warmed Elizabeth to know that her three best friends—Gavina, Aila, and Heather—had found happiness with their centurions. Three men who’d been cursed to an immortal life, but were now free to live and die like everyone else. The curse had also prevented them from fathering children, but these days all three were proud fathers.
I wonder what Robert would say if I told him about the curse. Elizabeth thought idly as she helped herself to some mashed, buttered turnip. Likely, he’d think she’d gone mad.
If she hadn’t seen Cassian Gaius virtually rise from the dead seven years ago, she wouldn’t have believed it either.
No, their story wouldn’t be shared. This would be one secret she would keep. Robert would never learn the origin of these enigmatic three men who served him.
“Ye look pensive, my love.” Robert’s voice drew her gaze then, and she glanced right to find him watching her. “Does something worry ye?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Not anymore,” she murmured. “I was just thinking how fortunate I am … how grateful … that ye returned to me.” She raised her goblet to him then. “This keep never felt right with ye gone, Rob.”
He smiled back and raised his own goblet, toasting her.
They both took a sip, their gazes fused as around them, laughter and merry voices rose and fell.
“And it still wouldn’t feel right … without the woman I love at my side,” he replied. “Ye are what kept me going all those years, Liz.” His hand, still clasped over hers on his knee, tightened. “There were times when I lost sight of it … but somehow ye were always there … the light in the darkness … drawing me home.”
Want to read more stories set in this world?
THE LAIRD’S RETURN is the final story in THE IMMORTAL HIGHLAND CENTURIONS series (kind of like an extended epilogue!). Discover Maximus, Cassian, and Draco’s stories!
Read the full series—available on Amazon.
Get ready for a brand new series, coming in January 2021!
HIGHLANDER DECEIVED, Book One in Stolen Highland Hearts will be out on January 21, 2021. Get ready for an exciting new trilogy set in Medieval Scotland. The series centers on the lives and loves of three siblings of the Mackay clan in the wild north of the Scottish Highlands. The novel is available on preorder (links below).
A lie this bold will not stay hidden. He thought he was marrying a chieftain’s daughter—but his young wife isn’t who she seems. Deception and passion collide in Medieval Scotland.
When Kiera Gunn agrees to swap places with her best friend, and wed a man in her stead, she knows life is about to get complicated.
She’s also risking her own future.
But Kiera never wanted to be a nun, and longs for a life outside the nunnery where she’s about to take her vows. Her friend is desperate—and this could be Kiera’s only chance to forge a new path for herself.
The Mackays of Farr have a new chieftain. Connor Mackay is a reluctant husband, yet he’s been betrothed for years.
Now he needs to honor his promise.
The woman he collects from the nunnery is a surprise. She isn’t the great beauty Connor expects, yet her quick wit and passionate nature soon enthrall him.
But his bride keeps a secret that risks more than both their hearts.
Preorder your copy of HIGHLANDER DECEIVED today, and it’ll be delivered to your Kindle on January 21, 2021!
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FROM THE AUTHOR
I hope you enjoyed THE LAIRD’S RETURN. When I embarked on THE IMMORTAL HIGHLAND SERIES, I knew I wanted to tell Elizabeth and Robert’s story—and since I’m a sucker for second chance love, I was really looking forward to it.
Elizabeth and Robert were once madly in love, but eight years apart have turned them into strangers. I enjoyed exploring their family dynamic and the barriers between two people who have both changed dramatically in their time apart, even though their love had never faded.
I didn’t make Robert and Elizabeth up—they were real historical people. Robert De Keith II, laird of Dunnottar, wed Elizabeth Strachan, and they had a son (also called Robert). Their son went on to marry Elizabeth, the daughter of Scottish baron John Comyn.
Robert De Keith took up a military career as a young man, but was also considered by other Scottish barons to be a strong leader, being appointed justiciary of the lands beyond the River Forth. He was captured by the English in a skirmish near the River Cree in 1300, but was back in Scotland by 1308 (when this novella starts) and in March 1309 was present at Robert I of Scotland's first parliament at St Andrews. Robert commanded forces loyal to Robert Bruce at the Battle of Bannockburn.
I hope you enjoyed this novella. I love Christmas stories!
Follow me on Facebook to keep updated on my upcoming books. Or you can join my mailing list (not only do you get updates, exclusive stories, and a chance to join my ARC list, but you also receive free origin stories for Maximus and Heather—the hero and heroine of Book #1 of THE IMMORTAL HIGHLAND CENTURIONS).
Jayne x
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