Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

by Maddie MacKenna

  “Why, Sister Prudence! You never told me of your sister,” Rowena said.

  “I ken. I dae nae speak about it much anymore,” Sister Prudence said. “We were close as children but separated long ago. Dae nae reveal this secret to anyone. It is a long story but we have nae time for all of that if ye are to make yer escape tonight. It does nae matter now in any case. Are ye sure this is what ye want to dae?”

  Rowena nodded. “Yes! As God is my witness, yes, it is.”

  “Well then,” said Sister Prudence. “I ken Mother Philomena will welcome ye. When ye get there, ye will tell her I sent ye.”

  “I will,” Rowena said.

  “One more thing, and this is important,” Sister Prudence said. “They will look for ye in the mornin’. When they find yer cell empty, they will begin a search for ye. They will continue lookin’ for ye everywhere.”

  Rowena agreed.

  Sister Prudence said, “Ye must nae reveal yer true identity to anyone, not even to Philomena! Tell her that ye came to me as an orphan seekin’ a path for service to God, and seein’ that ye were sincere, I sent ye to St. Columba Abbey to begin yer service as a novitiate nun.”

  Sister Prudence then took Rowena’s hand. She placed a golden ring in her palm and closed her fingers around it. Rowena looked at it and saw it was emblazoned with an elegant red and gold shield.

  “This is our family’s crest. Show it to Philomena and she will ken it was from me,” Sister Prudence said. “She will ken ye are in danger and she will protect ye.”

  Rowena tried to fight back the tears that were beginning to spill down her cheeks. “Thank you, Sister Prudence. Thank you for everything. You have been a guardian angel to me. I love you dearly, and I will never forget you.”

  They embraced for a long moment, believing this would likely be their last. Sister Prudence said, “I must go now and tend to the kitchen. Nay doubt Mother Lenora will question why I am late to me duties!” She picked up the empty dishes to return to the kitchen, pausing to toss the sharp knife into Rowena’s sack.

  “It may well come in handy,” she said with a wink. Then in a serious tone she said, “Good bye, Sister Rowena. May God watch over ye and keep ye safe.” With that, Sister Prudence slipped out through the cell door and once more vanished in the dark hallway.

  When Rowena was sure the nuns had settled in their cells for the night, she moved quietly out of her cell, closing the door carefully behind her. She made her way through the corridor, down the stairs to the entry hall, crept through the back hallway into the kitchen, and slinked out the back door. She heard sounds of men laughing coming from the candlelit window of the guest quarters at the other end of the building. She made her way across the cloister, staying in the shadows close to the stone wall.

  She headed straight to the barn to take a horse, but when she got there, she gasped in dismay. The horses were not in their stalls! Confound it! Where are the horses?

  She tiptoed to the backside of the barn and peered around the corner. There they were! Their horses had been left outside in the corral. She had not considered that the horses would be left outside. That was a problem. Horses are herd animals. If she tried to take one away from the herd, they would make a loud commotion in protest. Whinnying and calling to each other, stampeding, and carrying on the way horses do, would certainly get the attention of the knights, who were still awake.

  Rowena decided that she could not take the risk of being caught trying to steal one of the horses. She would have to make her way to St. James on foot. Alone. No matter, she had done it before, and she could do it again tonight. It would be difficult and slow going by herself, but not impossible. On the road, she was likely to encounter other travelers. In the forest, she could hide. Yes, a midnight walk through a forest infested with raiders was preferable to becoming Earl Strongbow’s wife.

  She prayed this was not a harbinger of things to come.

  4

  With her sack of meager belongings slung across her shoulder, Rowena scurried down the hill behind the abbey and passed the garden. Once she went through the gate in the wall on the edge of the garden, she was off the abbey grounds and into the wild border lands of Northumberland.

  Here, she could take the main road that led north into town, or cross the road and cut through Kielder Forest to head northwest. The road would make travel much easier, but the forest path that wound through the empty boggy moors and craggy stands of pine trees would take her in the direction she wanted to go. Besides, Kielder would give her cover. Surely no one would be out there this time of night, she told herself. I am much more likely to encounter night-time bandits along the main road, where most travelers are likely to be.

  She decided Kielder Forest would be safest. It was about 250 square miles in size, but she knew the River North Tyne cut a valley running diagonally right through the middle of the forest. A path ran alongside it the entire way to St. James, about fifteen miles. She had hiked it a few times before on her missionary visits to the impoverished homesteads that dotted the moors and mountains north of the forest, but never alone. A woman traveling alone put her life at risk.

  She found the path leading to the river and turned left to the road. Asking God for safe passage, she picked her way carefully through the darkness. Before long, she heard the familiar sound of the running waters of the River North Tyne. It lay just ahead. There the path veered to the right, heading northwest.

  She followed the path, listening to the sounds of the river and the night creatures that lived there. The terrain became steeper and the river bank got higher. At a place where the path was about ten feet above the river, the path became rockier and she had to slow her pace.

  Just ahead, a rocky outcropping loomed in front of her. It rose about twenty feet high. She knew the path wound its way across it and that it would level out on the other side. She kept following the path up the rocky hillside. Just as she got to the top, she froze. Voices! Men, many of them, were talking and shouting.

  She tried to hear what they were saying, but their voices mixed with the sound of the river and the night breeze. She balanced herself on a ledge and peered over it. Directly in the path about thirty yards away from her was a group of English soldiers on foot. At least seven of them, she estimated. They were moving on the path right toward her.

  Rowena ducked her head quickly and scampered back down the rocky hillside the way she came. She thought, pray that they did not see me! She ran around the broad side of the outcropping and flattened herself against it, hoping they would not spot her. She breathed without making a sound. Her heart raced. She waited.

  Finally, she heard the rocky surface crunch under their feet as they made it to the top of the outcrop. On their way down Rowena’s side of the stony crag, dirt and pebbles tumbled down the path as the men here and there lost a foothold and slid down a ways before regaining balance. She heard occasional cursing from the men when they slipped. Rowena pushed herself far back into the shadows of the rock face.

  As the soldiers reached level ground, she could see them clearly from her hiding spot. They began to reposition their gear and readjust their belts when another movement made Rowena glance back in the direction of the abbey. On the path she had left moments ago, she saw another group of men approaching on horseback. Dressed in dark clothing, they were nearly invisible in the night. Like dark ghosts, they rode in silence to within ten yards of the soldiers before the soldiers even noticed them. Rowena counted five of them. They fanned out across the path, blocking the soldiers’ way.

  One of the horsemen shouted, his British accent unmistakable. “Drop your weapons!” He ordered.

  Englishmen! Rowena thought. What business did they have here at midnight? Were they local border fighters? Or were they thieves?

  On instinct, the soldiers immediately drew their swords. They positioned themselves to fight on command. One of the soldiers replied, “We are here under the authority of King Richard! I order you, in the name of the king, make way!
”

  One of the five on horseback guffawed. In a mocking voice, he yelled, “In the name of the king!”

  Another one then shouted, “Hah! What king? I do not see a king here! No, I see only the possibility of rich plunder!” He drew a sword and pointed it at a wooden chest the soldiers had been carrying. Another bandit simply cocked his bow, now loaded with an arrow, at the soldiers.

  In a menacing voice, the first bandit said, “You have no escape, gentlemen. If you hope to leave here alive, you will do as I say. Now, drop your weapons and everything else you are carrying.”

  The soldiers hesitated.

  “Do it now, or die,” the horseman said. The thief with the bow pulled it taut and aimed, preparing to let the arrow fly into a soldier’s heart.

  “At ease, now, men,” the lead soldier ordered his men. “There is no need to die at the hands of these scoundrels tonight.” The soldiers dropped the wooden chest and one by one began to drop their swords and bows.

  At that moment, from atop the outcrop looming behind them, two more men appeared and leapt down from their lofty perch, landing on two of the bandits, knocking the one holding the bow and their leader to the ground. No one had seen the two as they crept up the side of the crag in silence and waited like mountain lions to pounce on their prey.

  Rowena peeked out from the shadows to get a better view of the melee. She could see from their belted tunics and fringed cloaks that the two men were Scotsmen – Highlanders to be precise. With their swords drawn, they fought the bandits with the courage and agility of several men. With such force their swords clashed against each other, so furious that the ringing sounds they made echoed ominously in the night.

  Trained since boyhood in the ways of Highland fighters, the Highland men were beneficiaries of many generations of men who for centuries had fought against hostile raiders like the Picts, the Romans, the Welsh and many others. These bandits posed little challenge to them.

  As soon as the other bandits realized that the Highlanders were expert swordsmen, they wheeled their horses around and galloped away, leaving the other two thugs behind to face the Highlanders on their own. One of the Highlanders lunged at his adversary and thrust his sword at the bandit’s neck, trying to slice it open. But his sword missed its mark.

  The bandit parried and knocked the Highlander’s sword out of his hands. It tumbled helter-skelter across the stony ground with a metallic clanging. It landed not far away from where Rowena was still hiding. The Highlander grabbed a long knife from his belt and crouched, waiting for a chance to attack.

  Rowena stared at the sword lying not ten feet away from her. She thought, I could pick it up and give it back to him if they come near. I can at least keep it away from the other man. She would have to step out of her hiding place to grab the sword, and likely someone would see her. She thought, No matter, my life is already in great danger. I can try to put the fight back on fair footing for these two righteous fighters.

  Rowena dashed out of the shadows to retrieve the Highlander’s sword. Its golden handle gleamed in the dim light of the moon. It was much heavier than she thought it would be. She realized it must take great strength to wield such a weapon as handily as the Highlander had. She had to use both hands to lift it, and she grunted at the effort when she stood upright with the sword in her grip. Then she disappeared back into the shadows.

  Rowena’s quick motion distracted the thief for just a moment. But it was enough for the Highlander to seize the opportunity. He rushed at the thief low, hurling his entire body at the thief’s legs. The Highlander moved so quickly the thief had no time to react. In surprise, the thief dropped his sword as the Highlander brought him to the ground. The force of the impact caused the Highlander to drop his knife. The Highlander cursed at himself. “Taran, you clumsy dobber!”

  Unarmed, both men rolled, wrestling and entwining like two mad snakes, each trying to get the best of the other and strangle him with bare hands. Then the bandit got Taran in a strangle hold. He started to sputter. “Malcolm!” he called.

  The other Highlander, Malcolm, looked up when he heard Taran call his name. Malcolm had his adversary pinned to the ground, punching him in the face which was now a bloody pulp. Malcolm saw that the bandit was about to kill Taran. In one lightning fast motion, Malcolm leapt to his feet, drew his knife, and dashed to Taran’s side. He grabbed the bandit’s head and dispatched him with a slash across his throat.

  “Thank ye,” Taran gasped, catching his breath. “That was a close one!”

  Malcolm said, “Too close! You were a hair’s breadth away!”

  Behind them, the sole remaining member of the thieving band had staggered to his feet and was running into the woods.

  “Let him go,” Malcolm said, nodding his head in the direction of the soldiers who had watched the entire incident unfold in stunned silence. Then he whispered, “Maybe he will warn off his compratiots.”

  Meanwhile, the English soldiers had picked up their weapons and watched the two Scotsmen dispense with the dead body. One of the soldiers shouted, “Stop right there! Do not move!” The Scotsmen looked around in surprise. Each of the soldiers now had weapons trained on them!

  One of the other soldiers said, “Lieutenant, these men are the two Highlanders that we spotted earlier. I suspect they have been following us for a while.”

  The Lieutenant bent over the dead man who had moments before tried to rob them. He searched the body but found nothing. He then used the toe of his boot to roll the corpse off the side of the river bank. They watched it fall into the bog below with a small but satisfying splash.

  The Lieutenant turned to the Scotsmen and ordered, “Drop your weapons, Highlanders!”

  Malcolm dropped his knife and sword. Taran’s knife was already on the ground. He remembered losing his sword but did not know where it was now. They held their hands in the air and allowed the soldiers to search them.

  The Lieutenant stepped closer to them to get a good look at them. He saw the insignia of the Scottish king carved into the broaches that fastened their cloaks to their tunics. “Why, you are nothing but bloody brigands! Did you think you would capture us?” The Lieutenant shouted at them, fury evident in his quivering voice. He continued, “In the name of the king, we have taken you prisoners. You will be taken to the king’s court at Jarrow and answer for your crimes!”

  “Crimes? What crimes have we committed, sir?” Taran asked in a thick Scottish brogue.

  Enraged at the Highlander’s impudence, he nearly screamed his reply, “You fools! You have crossed into English soil for the purpose of plundering the crown. Your allegiance to the Scottish king is treason! For that, you will likely face the executioner!”

  Droplets of spittle sprayed out of the Lieutenant’s mouth as he snapped his orders. “Bind their hands. Bind them well, I say. These Highlanders are slippery as vipers and as treacherous as the winds.”

  The soldiers hastily did as they were instructed. Rowena saw one of them pick the weapons up from the ground. She still had Taran’s sword. She was glad the soldiers did not look for it. They must have forgotten all about it.

  The Lieutenant then announced, “We will take cover over there in the woods and rest until morning. We cannot risk going any further with these prisoners until daylight. You will take turns guarding these brutes in two hour shifts. Do not let them out of your sight. Now get some rest, men!”

  To Rowena’s relief, the soldiers had obviously not seen her. They took their two prisoners and moved off the path into the woods. They did not linger or take the time to look around for any other bandits. Now she could gather her wits and decide what to do next.

  She could pretend she saw nothing and move quickly in the direction she was going. However, there may be other travelers on the path following these bands or looking for victims to rob. Clearly, Rowena had been mistaken about her chances of meeting other travelers in the night in Kielder Forest. It was quite possible that there were many more lurking out there. On t
he other hand, she needed to travel under cover in the darkness if she was going to reach St. James before daylight. By dawn, everyone at St. Martha’s, including her father’s knights, would know she had fled. They would be searching for her everywhere.

  Still, she was angry with the British soldiers for their treatment of the two Scotsmen who had likely saved their lives. Now the very men who saved them would likely be rewarded with their own deaths once they were turned over to King Richard’s court at Jarrow. She looked over to where the soldiers had made camp. They were just inside the edge of the woods, nearly invisible to any passerby. Their captive Highlanders were propped against two trees, their backs to her.

  It would take but a moment for her to sneak over to them and cut their ropes. She still had the Highlander’s sword, but she would leave that there. She needed something easier to manage. She fished for the knife that Sister Prudence had placed in her sack. Dear Sister Prudence, you do think of everything, she thought with a wry grin.

  Like a cat, Rowena ducked low and moved silently towards the trees about twenty yards away. Years of late night visits to the abbey library when she was supposed to be in bed sleeping, along with late night visits to the kitchen and other rebellious acts that required covert skills, had trained her on how to be as stealthy as any of the king’s finest soldiers. She had never once been caught, and she was not about to be caught now.