Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

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Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Page 16

by Maddie MacKenna


  Just as she turned around and started toward the table of food, she collided hard and square with a man carrying a stack of documents who was obviously in a hurry. They both fell to the floor in a daze. The documents dropped to the floor and scattered. The man quickly scrambled to his feet and reached out to help Rowena up.

  “I beg yer pardon, me lassie. I should have been more careful where I was goin’! Are ye hurt?”

  Rowena let him pull her to her feet. She said apologetically, “No, just a little embarrassed, I’m afraid. Forgive me, it was my fault. But are you all right?”

  “Aye, I’m fine, thank ye.” He bent down and gathered up his documents. He stood up and looked Rowena over from head to toe and spoke quickly. “I dinnae believe I have seen ye before. I’m certain I would have remembered ye. But alas, I must take me leave. The wool merchant is about to depart for Newcastle, and he is waitin’ for me. He needs these documents.”

  Rowena’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon, sir. You said he was traveling to Newcastle. Are you referring to Newcastle upon Tyne, in Northumberland?”

  The man said, “Aye, that is the one. The Laird has a shipment of wool set to sail for Calais in three days. These documents will ensure his payment.”

  Rowena thought quickly. “Please sir, will you wait here for just one moment? Please, I beg you. Just one more moment. I need him to deliver something for me as well.”

  The man shrugged. “Aye, but ye must hurry, lass.”

  Rowena ran across the hall and back to the beautiful drawing room where the writing desk was. No one was there. She grabbed a pen and quickly scribbled a note on a piece of parchment. She signed it, folded it, but did not take the time to seal it. She simply addressed it to Sister Prudence, at the nunnery of St. Martha, in Northumbria.

  She scurried back to the hall where the man was still waiting. “I’m ready, sir! Please, take me to your merchant!”

  The man was relieved she had not taken too long. Now he was happy to oblige her. “Aye, but of course. Follow me.”

  He led Rowena quickly through the hall, out through the gate keep, and across the moat bridge. There a merchant and his assistant sat in a horse-drawn wagon loaded with sacks of what Rowena presumed to be the wool. She ran up to the driver, waving the letter at him. She said, “This good gentleman informs me you are traveling to the port at Newcastle in Northumbria.”

  The driver nodded and said, “Aye.” His assistant nodded, too. In a clear Northumbrian dialect, the assistant said, “We are, me lady. Is there something we can help ye with?”

  Rowena gasped. “Oh, my Lord, thank you! I can hear from your speech that you are a Northumbrian!”

  The assistant said, “Yes, indeed! My family is from Whitley. We are distant cousins to the Robertson clan. For generations we have helped the Robertsons with their wool shipments to France and Italy.”

  Rowena said, “Then you must know Jarrow?”

  The assistant said, “Of course, I know it well!”

  Rowena’s hopes went up. “And you know the abbey there . . . St. Martha’s?”

  Again, the assistant nodded. “Yes, me lady.”

  Then the merchant himself spoke. “Aye, we are familiar with St. Martha’s. There have been times we had to spend a night there, but not in many years.”

  Rowena handed him her hastily drafted letter. “Please, I don’t wish to impose on you, though I would be eternally grateful if you would deliver this letter to one of the sisters there. Her name is Sister Prudence.”

  The two men glanced at each other, uncertain what to say. Stopping in Jarrow really would not take them out of their way. Rowena said, “Please, I implore you. No doubt Sister Prudence cooked for you during your stay, and the sisters tended to your horses. They provided you shelter from the night. They will be grateful to receive word from me.”

  The men shrugged. The assistant said to his boss, “We can stay the night there on the cheap, sir.”

  The merchant said, “Why nae, lassie. We’d be glad to deliver it for ye.”

  Rowena took the man’s hand and pulled his face close to hers. On her tiptoes, she was tall enough that she could stretch out and plant a kiss of gratitude on his cheek. He blushed through his whiskers. She said, “Thank you, sirs. I cannot tell you how much it means to me! May God keep you safe on your journey!”

  They clucked at the horses and off they went, trotting down the Frenich castle lane.

  Rowena turned to the servant and thanked him again for bringing her to the wool merchant. He bowed to her, hoping that they could spend the afternoon together. But his heart sank when she said, “Now, I must get inside and get to work.”

  In the hall, a number of unruly children were running around in ragged clothes, unsupervised. The servants were too busy to tend to them, and their parents seemed to be absent. Perhaps their parents were off trying to do their work, or were these children orphans?

  Rowena immediately set about getting the children’s attention. She went into the drawing room and found a Bible. She prepared the room by pushing all of the furniture against the wall, except for a single chair. She returned to the hall and one by one engaged each child in a conversation. She handed them small pieces of fruit and promised to tell them a great story if they followed her into the drawing room.

  Auntie Lili appeared with Taran and watched from a corner of the room as Rowena worked her magic on the children. “Would ye look at that?” Auntie Lili said, clearly impressed by Rowena’s way of managing them. “I’ve been tryin’ to get these little ones under control since they arrived!”

  Taran agreed. “I’m pleased that she is able to take care of them. They have been drivin’ the servants batty with their mischief! Everyone will be glad to have them preoccupied.”

  Within minutes, every child who was too young to work or physically unable had followed Rowena into the drawing room. Taran and Auntie Lili followed them, too, staying inconspicuous. They saw Rowena sit in the chair with the Bible in her lap. Each child was either seated or stretched out on the floor. Rowena said, “Welcome to story time, boys and girls! Did you know that you are all brothers and sisters in the eyes of God? That’s right, you are all children of God, and He loves all of you very much. He wants you to love each other, too. Do you know what that means?”

  Some of the children shook their heads, some said “aye.” She went around the room and asked each child what that meant. Some of their responses tickled her.

  Unnoticed by Rowena in the back of the room, Auntie Lili and Taran had followed her into the drawing room and were enjoying her engagement with the children while suppressing their laughter. Auntie Lili whispered to him, “Tis’ wonderful to hear the laughter, is it nae?”

  Taran agreed. He had a soft spot for children and looked forward to the day he would become a father himself. “Let’s go, and let them be. Sister Rowena does nae need our help!” They slipped out of the room.

  Rowena opened the Bible and began to read the story of the birth of Jesus. She would pause occasionally to ask each of them questions that required them to think a little deeper about it. “Why do you think they ran away?” Or, “what would you think if you saw a bright star in the sky?” After a while, all of the children were sound asleep. While they slept, Rowena read Psalms to herself, relishing in the love she felt and the word of God.

  Later that afternoon, she took a seat at the table for supper. She was not especially hungry, but all day she had longed to run into Taran. She hoped he might come in for supper, though she had no idea what he might be doing.

  It was not long before Rowena got her wish. Taran strode into the noisy hall, but he was not alone. A stunning, beautifully dressed red head was on his arm, laughing and captivated by whatever Taran was saying. He was smiling and gesturing around the hall, entertaining her. Malcolm was with them, too.

  Taran saw Rowena at the long table and waved. He brought his lad friend over to Rowena and said, “Good evenin’, Sister Rowena. I was hopin’ to see ye. I
want to introduce ye to me betrothed, Lady Deirdre.”

  Rowena stood and curtsied to Lady Dierdre. “Pleased to meet you, my Lady,” she said.

  Taran said, “Dierdre, meet Sister Rowena, whom I have mentioned to ye.”

  Lady Dierdre said, “Tis’ a pleasure to meet ye, Sister Rowena. Taran has indeed told me about ye.” She paused and glanced at him, then back at Rowena and said, “All about ye.” Rowena would have sworn she detected cold sarcasm in her voice. “Accordin’ to him, ye’re a real miracle worker.” This time, Rowena did not miss her sarcasm.

  Rowena kept her composure. “Taran is a kindhearted man. You’re both blessed to have each other.”

  Taran asked Rowena, “May we join ye for supper?”

  Before she could answer, he was guiding Lady Dierdre to a seat on the long side of the table. Rowena sat at one end, and the rest of the seats on the long side were empty. Taran took the chair between the two women. Malcolm was on the other side of Lady Dierdre. They helped themselves to the food that had been laid out on the table.

  Taran turned to Lady Dierdre and Malcolm and said, “Ye should have seen our Sister Rowena here with the children today. They were runnin’ all over the hall makin’ such a ruckus. She grabbed some sugar and went around handing it out to each one, talkin’ to them. Before long, she had them all followin’ her around like pups chasin’ their mommas!”

  Rowena blushed. “They are so sweet if you remember they are only children.”

  Lady Dierdre pretended to be interested. She said only, “How nice.”

  Taran continued. “Truly, ye were remarkable, Sister. I’d like ye to take on that responsibility every day we have children here in the castle, if ye’d like.”

  Rowena’s eyes lit up. “I would love nothing more! Many of them have lost one or both of their parents. It breaks my heart. They have no one to care for them and nowhere to go.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lady Dierdre roll her eyes.

  Taran said, “Aye. Tis’ heartbreakin’. Ye can help them, Sister. Ye can teach them somethin’ every day. Ye can tell them about God, about manners, and show them how to read and write.”

  Rowena said, “Thank you, Taran. It would be my honor to do that.” Rowena felt a sense of relief that Taran’s anger with her had subsided. Perhaps it was due to the companionship of Lady Dierdre. Whatever it was, she was happy that he seemed happier now. Thank you, God, for soothing his soul, she said to herself.

  21

  That night, Rowena could not sleep. She found herself questioning all of her decisions of the last few days. Her life once again had become a whirlwind of confusion and unexpected turns. She wondered if she was making the right decision to rebel against her own father, a powerful ally of the crown. How could she think she would succeed? Eventually she would be found out. How many lives have I put at risk by what I’m doing? I must hold fast to my faith, and trust in the Lord to show me the path. He holds me ever in the palm of His hand.

  Her thoughts then drifted to Taran. She found him confounding yet irresistibly handsome. One moment, he was a compassionate and charming gentleman, the next moment a fierce Highland warrior, ready to fight any force of evil. Many times over the last couple of days she relived the memory of Taran coming to her rescue the night before. She remembered how wonderfully safe and protected she felt in his arms. How she wanted the moment never to end. The feelings overwhelmed her.

  She wondered about his engagement to Lady Dierdre. She did not seem to be his type. She had a hard edge to her and was extremely pretentious. Surely Taran was not in love with her. Their arrangement had to be purely political.

  Rowena finally drifted off but slept fitfully. She woke up at daybreak and got dressed. A walk by the lake shore would feel refreshing.

  She was by no means the only person up and about at this hour. Many of the castle servants were already hard at work. She greeted everyone she met with a cheerful “Good morning!”

  She found the main entry doors standing wide open. The morning sun shone brightly into the passageway. Like a light at the end of a dark tunnel, it invited her to come out and enjoy the beauty in all God’s creations.

  Her mood was bright and cheery as she stepped outside into the entry yard. As she started toward the moat bridge, she saw Taran, Malcolm, and two servants with their backs turned to her. The morning sunshine on Taran’s hair gave it a copper glow, setting off his tanned skin. He held one muscular arm out and away from his body. It was covered up to his elbow by a thick leather glove. They were all watching intently for something in the distant sky and did not see her.

  She shielded her eyes from the sun to see what they were looking at. She saw something moving, flying like a demon straight toward them. As it swooped in, she saw it! It was a striking white gyrfalcon. It reached for Taran’s arm with outstretched talons as formidable as knifepoints, and decelerated with a reverse flap of its glorious snowy wings. The magnificent bird came to rest on the back of Taran’s forearm and folded its wings against its body. Taran immediately rewarded it with a chunk of meat.

  Rowena’s heart skipped as she watched him expertly handle the falcon. As if he sensed her watching him, Taran looked up and back over his shoulder. When he spotted Rowena, he grinned broadly. “Mornin’, Sister! Come closer, let me show ye me prize! Is she nae a bonnie one?!”

  “Yes, Taran, my goodness she is the most beautiful bird I have ever seen!” Rowena approached the resplendent creature with caution, aware of the bird’s penchant for ripping open flesh.

  Taran said, “Dae nae fear her, she will nae hurt ye. She is well-mannered, like the noble one she is.”

  “Does she have a name?” Rowena asked, spellbound by the impressive bird.

  “Aye,” Taran said. “Her name is ‘Fiona’.” At the sound of her name, Fiona cocked her glorious head and looked directly at Taran. “It is a name that means fair white lady.”

  Rowena murmured, “Fiona . . . that sounds fit for a queen. It’s perfect.”

  Taran said, “Aye, tis’indeed. Ye only saw a little bit of what she can dae. We just finished her mornin’ exercise.” He turned to one of the men and patted him on the back. “Ye’ve done good work with Fiona, lad. She’s turnin’ into a real prize. I can see I chose the right falconers for her!” The men beamed with pride. Then Taran became serious and said, “I believe Fiona is ready for a hunt.If ye agree, I’d like to take her out in the mornin’ and give her a try. We’ll bring some of the peregrines as well.”

  The falconer said, “Aye, me Laird! I’m wagerin’ we’ll return with enough pigeons and hares to feed all of us for several days!”

  “Aye, I hope ye’re right, lad. We need to stock up the castle stores. We’re feedin’ a lot of mouths these days,” Taran said grimly.

  The falconer held out his arm and coaxed Fiona onto it with a chunk of raw chicken. She hopped easily from Taran’s arm and took the chicken. Taran gently covered her head with a leather hood for her ride back to her mews.

  Taran turned back to Rowena. His eyes seemed to bore into hers, as if he could read every thought, see every image, and hear every sound that was going through her mind. It was too much. She had to look away. Then he said, “Sister Rowena, would ye join me for a walk? I thought ye might like to see the herb and flower gardens. Ye might find them useful in some of yer ministrations.”

  Rowena did not hesitate. “Yes, some of the children need medicines. Their parents are not much healthier. I would love to see the gardens. No doubt I will find much that is beneficial.”

  Taran offered her his arm. She hesitated, then happily took it. She tingled at the feeling of her body pressed against his arm. The day was starting off perfectly, she thought. Thank you, Lord God, for looking on us with favor this day. Lead us not into temptation.

  Taran escorted her around to the garden, which was located just outside the rear entrance to the castle kitchen. It covered several acres and was beautifully tended by Taran’s servants. Rowena clapped her hands in delight. Ne
ver had she seen such a smorgasbord of herbs and greenery in one place. She asked, “Would you mind if I look through this wonderful garden and take some cuttings for some medicinal blends? Some of your guests need special tending to.”

  Taran said, “I was hopin’ ye’d ask. By all means, help yerself. Ye’re me guest now.”

  She smiled. “I’m your guest now? You mean I’m no longer your hostage?” She teased.

  “Nay, lassie. Ye’re nae me hostage. Ye never were. Ye’re free to leave any time. All ye have to do is make it out of Scotland with yer honor and yer life,” he added sarcastically.

  They strolled leisurely down the rows, stopping here and there to examine a plant, or to let Rowena pick a special piece. The far end of the garden was bordered by a trellis fence supporting a tall hedge of wild floribunda roses. The hedge towered above them by several feet. The roses had already past their peak blooming season, but several still bloomed among the clusters of hips and lush greenery.

 

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