Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

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Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Page 22

by Maddie MacKenna


  * * *

  In a short few days, it had become clear to everyone that the couple had fallen in love. The way they looked at each, hung on to each other’s every words, and were often seen walking together, was unmistakable proof of it.

  Auntie Lili noticed it, too. Auntie Lili decided she needed to discuss the matter with her nephew and determine where it would all lead. She was very fond of Sister Rowena. Who wasn’t? But the clan Robertson did not need a scandal involving Taran, who was already betrothed, and a nun.

  She found Taran talking with Malcolm in the library. Good, she thought. Malcolm can help me make Taran understand that he needed to leave Sister Rowena alone. “Aela, lads!” She greeted them as cheerfully as ever. “Taran, me lad. I want to talk to ye about somethin’.”

  Malcolm said, “Good afternoon, Auntie Lili, I was just takin’ me leave.”

  Auntie Lili said, “Nay, Malcolm. Ye’re family to us. Please stay. I want yer opinion on this.”

  Malcolm bowed politely. “Certainly, me love.”

  She raised an eyebrow as she scrutinized Taran.

  Taran grinned. “I ken that look, Auntie Lili!” he teased. “What is on yer mind?”

  “I’m nae goin’ to hold anythin’ back, Taran. I’m just goin’ to ask ye. Ye’re smitten by Sister Rowena, are ye nae?”

  Taran blushed bright red and gave a sheepish grin. “Tis’ it so obvious to ye?” he asked.

  Malcolm laughed. “Aye, laddie, it is as obvious as the full moon outside!”

  Taran smiled. “Aye. I was smitten from the moment I met her. She is all I think about.”

  Auntie Lili said, “Och, but what about Lady Dierdre!”

  Malcolm then said, “And ye ken Lady Dierdre will nae stand idly by while ye dally with Sister Rowena.”

  “Ye’re right about that one, me friend. I have been avoidin’ callin’ on Dierdre,” Taran said.

  “Ye’re goin’ to have to face her sometime. When did ye last see her?” Malcolm asked.

  Taran said, “The night after I was bitten by the adder. When me brain cleared, I had to see Dierdre. I had to decide if I could ever feel love for her. I had to make sure of what I have been feelin’.”

  Auntie Lili asked, “What did ye conclude?”

  He said, “That I want to be with Rowena. Only Rowena. Nae Lady Dierdre. Never have I felt love for Dierdre the way I feel it for Rowena.”

  Auntie Lili cackled. “Love! Tis’ love ye’re speakin’ about? Love is for children, Taran. It’s here now, gone tomorrow. Ye were born into a noble clan. A powerful clan. For centuries it has endured and prospered. Think about what yer puttin’ at risk . . . yer fortune . . . yer reputation . . . the clan’s reputation . . . Lady Deirdre’s dowry . . .her faither’s ire . . . all for the sake of some whimsical notion of love. It’s nae but a fairy tale. Ye best nae risk yer future on love. Ye need to be sure ye ken what ye’re doin’.”

  Taran placed his palms flat on a table and leaned toward Auntie Lili. He looked at her with intensity that surprised even her. His voice was steadfast. “We dae nae need Dierdre’s dowry. Until last week, I was willin’ to marry Dierdre for the reasons ye’ve pointed out --nae for love, but for the future and the security of our clans. But now . . . now that I ken Rowena, I cannae marry Dierdre.”

  “And when dae ye plan to give the news to Dierdre? Ye ken her faither will be angry,” Auntie Lili said.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps nae. There are many men in Scotland who would fight another man to the death to marry the bonnie Lady Dierdre and ally with her faither. Dierdre will have nay trouble findin’ another man to be her husband,” Taran said.

  Malcolm interjected. “Are ye forgettin’ somethin’, Taran?”

  Taran looked at his friend. “What are ye getting’ at?”

  “Sister Rowena wants to become a nun. How will that fit in with yer own plans?”

  Taran shrugged. “I dae nae ken. I have nae thought much about that.”

  “Tis’ somethin’ ye need to resolve before ye make a decision ye’ll regret,” Malcolm said. “Sister Rowena is certainly an enchantin’ lass. But ye just met her!”

  Taran said, “Aye, but she’s a different sort of lass, Malcolm. She is virtuous and selfless. There is somethin’ uniquely special about her. I feel it in me heart.”

  “Ye’ve got to trust yer heart, me friend,” Malcolm said.

  “Thank ye, Malcolm,” Taran said. Then he surprised them both and said, “I think ye should ken. I think I am goin’ to make her me wife.”

  Auntie Lili covered her mouth with her hands. “Och! Bless ye, Taran. Let us place our faith in the good Laird, and pray that He looks with favor on ye both.”

  “Amen,” Taran said. “Amen to that, Auntie Lili.”

  * * *

  Taran found Rowena in her chambers with a mortar and pestle crushing rose hips. “Good evenin’, Sister,” he called cheerfully from her doorway.

  She looked up from her work and grinned at him. “Come in! You’re just in time. Hold this bag open for me, please?”

  He took a tiny linen sack from her and held it open while she deposited a mixture of freshly groundrose hips and mint into it. “Thank you,” she said when she finished, then kissed him on the cheek. “This mixture works wonders for throat pains, which so many of the children seem to have when they arrive.”

  Taran simply nodded but said nothing. He seemed distant. “Is something on your mind, Taran?” she asked.

  “Aye, there certainly is,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Come, walk with me.”

  He led her by the hand out to the water’s edge. They chatted and finally Rowena said, “You brought me out here to tell me what’s on your mind. What is it?”

  Taran said, “I was wonderin’, are ye still desirin’ to go to St. Columba’s and become a nun?”

  There it is, the thing I’ve been trying not to think about too much. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore, Taran. I’ve had doubts about taking the novitiate vows before. And then, the other night . . . when we . . . when we were together, those doubts have returned. I don’t know if God will let me in now that I’m . . . no longer pure. Why do you ask?”

  “Because, Sister Rowena, I dae nae want ye to go.”

  Rowena took Taran’s hand and said, “I started on this journey with every intention of devoting my life to serving our Lord, despite some doubts. But is it not strange . . . on my journey to become ever closer to God, He placed you in my path.”

  Taran said, “Ye ken me faith is nae as deep as yers.”

  Rowena said, “What I’m trying to say is . . . before I met you, I wanted more than anything to join the sisters at St. Columba’s. Now, I do not want to leave you. I have no doubt in my mind about that. But if you want to be with Lady Dierdre, or someone else, I will go to St. Columba’s.”

  Taran took her in his arms and held her tightly. Her hair still held the fragrance of rose hips and mint. “Sister Rowena, could it be that God wants ye to stay here with me?” He asked in the tenderest voice. “Could it be that God wants us to be together?”

  She buried her face against his neck, relishing the feeling of his strong body pressed against hers. She was amazed at how naturally their bodies melded together. “Yes, the thought has occurred to me. The whole sequence of events seems driven by a divine power. It has all happened so quickly.”

  Taran said, “Sister Rowena, I must confess. I have never had such feelings as I have for ye. I believe I have fallen in love with ye. I need ye to . . . to tell me if . . . well . . . dae ye feel the same for me?” He looked into her eyes, searching for her answer.

  She whispered her answer. “Yes, Taran, I do. But you are betrothed to Lady Dierdre.”

  He said, “Aye, but I have had many second thoughts about it, even before I met ye. I even delayed the weddin’ twice. And now . . . now that I’ve met ye, I have nay doubt in me mind about it. I cannae go through with it. I have never felt the love for her that I have for ye.” They stood near the water’s
edge under a tall pine tree and looked into each other’s eyes baring their souls to each other. He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

  “This is all happening so fast, Taran,” Rowena said. “Are you sure?”

  “I have nae been so sure of anythin’ in me life,” he said without the slightest hesitation.

  32

  Taran was leading his horse from the barn when he saw a familiar figure approaching him. It was the very woman he was going out to visit. Lady Dierdre, in an expensive silk tunic, low cut to reveal her ample cleavage. Passing farmhands turned their heads to gawk at the ginger-haired beauty. Lady Dierdre adored their attention.

  She rushed up to Taran, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Good mornin’, love,” she said. “Are ye goin’ huntin’?”

  Taran said, “Good morning, Dierdre. Actually, I was comin’ to see ye.”

  “Delightful!” Lady Dierdre exclaimed. She traced his collar with her finger suggestively. “Shall we go to yer chambers?”

  “Er . . . good idea. Ye go wait for me there while I put me horse up.”

  Dierdre gave him another peck on the cheek. “Dae nae be long, love.” She turned and went inside.

  In the passageway to Taran’s chambers, she passed Rowena. Rowena was startled to see her. “Oh! Lady Dierdre . . . good morning. I did not expect to see you here,” she stammered. What are you doing here, she wanted to ask.

  “Good mornin’ to ye, Sister,” Lady Dierdre said. “I’m just payin’ a quick visit to me betrothed.”

  Rowena stood speechless as she watched Lady Dierdre walk down the passage and let herself into Taran’s chambers. She felt like she was going to faint. He has betrayed me! He has betrayed us both! Rowena ran into her own chambers and closed the door behind her. She fell onto her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and cried.

  * * *

  She did not hear Taran walk by and enter his chambes. Inside,he found Lady Dierdre on his bed, mostly undressed. He shook his head. “Dierdre,” he said. “Put yer clothes on. I need to talk to ye.”

  She frowned and cocked her head in confusion. “Aww, Taran, what’s wrong? Ye never said nay to me before.”

  “Dierdre, I cannae go on with this. Tis’ become a charade. I cannae marry ye. Ye dae nae love me and I dae nae love ye. We have never loved each other. The weddin’ was always a business arrangement between our faithers and nothin’ more. Ye ken that.”

  Lady Dierdre started shaking her head no, slowly at first, then faster and faster as his words registered. Her expression became a pout. It was as if she had transformed from a grown woman to a little girl who was not getting her way.

  Taran continued. “Ye and I—we have nothin’ in common. Never have. Ye can dae better for yerself than me, Lady Dierdre. Ye’ve had many noble men courtin’ ye. Ye’re a beauty. And a noblewoman. Yer faither can pay a handsome dowry.”

  Lady Dierdre finally spoke. “If ye call off our weddin’, ye’ll be betrayin’ our faithers’ agreement.”

  Taran’s eyes blazed at her. “Me faither is dead. His promises died with him. I am the Laird of this clan now. I respect and admire yer faither. But I owe him nothin’.”

  “Ye’ve been betrayin’ me,” Lady Dierdre said. “Who this time? That English nun ye brought with ye from the borderlands?”

  Taran did not deny her accusation. He said, “What does it matter, Dierdre? The fact is that ye and I cannae have a good life together if we dae nae love each other.”

  She said, “Tis’ nae about love, Taran. Tis’ about our clans, and keepin’ our names among the mighty.”

  Taran shook his head. “Ye’re wrong, Dierdre. Ye want me for the wrong reasons. Ye only want to have me estate. But marriage is’ about lovin’ each other. About makin’ a life together. Tis’ nay betrayal to be true to ourselves. To find our true loves.”

  Lady Dierdre saw that Taran had made up his mind. Taran took her gently by the hand and led her out of his chambers and closed his door behind them. In the passageway, Lady Dierdre said, “Ye’re makin’ a mistake about this, Taran.”

  She moved herself close to him and put his arms around him. He averted his eyes and started to speak. Before he could say anything, Lady Dierdre kissed him on the lips, hard.

  Just then, Rowena opened her chamber door and stepped out. She saw Lady Dierdre and Taran kissing and immediately retreated into her room.

  Lady Dierdre narrowed her eyes at Taran, then slapped his face. “Just as I thought! Ye dirty scoundrel. Ye’re involved with the nun, aren’t ye! I tell ye, ye’re makin’ a mistake. Someday ye’ll realize I’m right, but I will nay longer be available.” She turned on her heel and fled out of the castle and out of Taran’s life.

  Taran rushed to Rowena’s chamber and knocked on the door. “Rowena! Rowena, open the door. Please, it’s nae what ye think. Open the door and let me explain.”

  Slowly, Rowena opened her door a crack. “Taran, dae nae lie to me. If ye wish to be with Lady Dierdre, please tell me so.”

  “Nay!” He cried, trying to wedge a foot in the door to keep her from closing it. “Nay, Rowena. I have just broken my betrothal to Lady Dierdre. Tis’ over. It has been for a long time. It is ye who I desire. Only ye.”

  “Please. Please believe me,” he said, with such intensity. “Rowena, I love ye.”

  Hearing that, Rowena opened the door. They fell into her bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  33

  The next few days were filled with bliss for Rowena. But her joy came to a crashing stop when the merchant Christian Fox arrived, escorted by a retinue of English soldiers. In the back of the wagon, two passengers rode like a couple of scobberlotchers.

  Taran’s gatekeepers shouldered their lances and went out to greet them. Christian Fox asked to see Taran. But he had already been notified that a large gathering of Englishmen was approaching. Taran appeared with Malcolm next to him, and several Scottish warriors on their flanks. All of them carried swords and lances. A line of archers stood with their bows aimed, ready to fire on Taran’s command. They looked battle hardened and completely capable of engaging the Englishmen in combat.

  Rowena, Auntie Lili, and several servant women peered out the castle windows, terrified but too curious to turn away.

  Taran spotted his wool broker and called to him. “Elae, Mr. Fox! Identify this English scum!”

  As he spoke, one of the passengers in back of the wagon stood and leaned over the side. In the condescending tone typical of English aristocracy, he announced, “I am David Fulton, Earl of Strongbow.” He pointed to Lord Kensley. “This is Alfred Cran, Earl of Kensley.”

  Inside the castle, Rowena sank to her knees. She buried her face in her hands and moaned. Auntie Lili looked back and forth from Rowena to the scene unfolding outside.

  Then Earl Strongbow gestured to the knights riding alongside. “These are our knights and archers. On my orders, they will shoot to kill.”

  “What is yer business here?” Taran ignored the not so veiled threat.

  “By the authority of King Richard,” Earl Strongbow responded. “We demand the release of the maiden Rowena Cran. We know she is here under your authority. Turn her over to us and we will leave in peace. If you do not, we will storm the castle and take her by force!”

  Taran said, “Ye have nay say here. If ye want to see the sun rise on the morrow, ye’d better turn around and go back.”

  This time, Lord Kensley spoke. “Lord Robertson, I have come to ensure the safe return of my daughter. I am prepared to pay a ransom for her.”

  Taran scoffed. “Hah! Dae nae insult me old man! Yer money is nay good here. Ye will pay with yer lives if ye dae nae leave now!” He glanced at his archers and they retrained their arrows with menace in their expressions.

  At that moment, something stirred behind them. Rowena make her way through the onlookers that had gathered at the castle gate. She came forward and stood next to Taran. She called a greeting to her father.

&nb
sp; “Elae, Father!”

  “Rowena! Rowena my daughter! Are you all right?”

  “Yes, father. I am unharmed.”

  “What on earth are you doing here, my child?” He did not care that everyone was listening to what otherwise should be a private father-daughter discussion. He was too worried about her and could wait no longer.

  Taran looked at her, too, looking puzzled. “Perhaps it is time to explain yerself.”

  She nodded. “Taran, this is my father, whom I adore.” She walked toward him and gestured. “He is the Earl of Kensley, and one of the great magnates of England. When I was twelve, my mother died and Father sent me to St. Martha’s. While I was there, I came to love my life and what it meant to be a nun . . . being a servant unto our Lord, God.”

 

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