“What do you mean, no one there?”
“Their horses were still tethered to the trees,” the first one answered.
“Don’t make a sound.” The whisper was so low that Tess thought she had imagined it. As Burnett started shouting orders to his men, she felt strong arms wrap around her waist and drag her slowly backward. She looked over her shoulder and felt her heart soar when she realized it was Colin.
Burnett turned at that instant, and his angry roar echoed through the woods. “Stop him! Kill him!”
The Lowlanders raced toward them with their swords raised.
Tess watched in amazement as Colin’s men came out of the shadows of the trees like men possessed. The first volley of arrows cut down the first line of Lowlanders, and the rest soon felt the cutting edge of Macpherson steel.
Colin, with a quick glance at Tess, turned murderous eyes on the large man who was moving toward them.
“He is the one,” she managed to whisper, pushing herself upright. “He…killed my father.” She fought the fog blurring her vision and tried to focus on Colin as his sword clashed with the murderer’s. Sparks flew into the night as the two men fought ferociously.
Leaning her weight on the tree, Tess forced herself to her feet. Don’t let him get hurt. Please, God. Don’t let any harm come to him.
Blow after blow, the ringing sound of steel filled the glade, but then in horror she saw Colin trip. With his sword flashing upward in the torchlight, the Lowlander stepped forward to deliver the final blow. With all her strength, Tess pushed away from the tree and threw her weight against Burnett’s side. He stumbled forward and fell across Colin.
Tess watched the Lowlander’s body twist sharply when he hit the ground, and then lay still.
She blinked and looked over at Colin, who was on one knee and covered with blood.
And then the world went black.
CHAPTER 19
From the magnificent view out the high window, Tess admired the lush and fertile farm lands, the broad expanses of forest, the rocky upland moors surrounding the Border stronghold. She was in Roxburgh Castle, scarcely a two hour ride from Ninestane and a place where Colin knew she would be safe. Roxburgh belonged to Ambrose Macpherson, his uncle, Colin told her. She looked up at the clear blue sky and breathed in the fresh spring air.
“Are ye ready to take yer meal now?”
Tess turned and smiled at the housekeeper who was ushering a servant with a tray of food into the room.
“Ina, you don’t need to be serving me like this. I am well enough to come and take my meals with everyone else in the Great Hall.”
“Well, Master Colin’s orders were for ye to follow the abbot’s advice and stay in bed this week.” The housekeeper started arranging the food on a table near the window. “I let ye out of bed, but ye are weak and need to get yer strength back before he returns.”
Before he returns.
She loved the sound of those words. In her mind she saw him, returning from Stichel where he’d taken Lady Evelyn.
Tess stared at the distant hill. David Burnett was dead. He had died when he’d fallen on Colin’s dagger. The same night, Ninestane Castle had come under siege by Colin and the company of Macphersons that he’d gathered from Roxburgh Castle. With their leader dead, there had been little resistance. But dealing with Evelyn had been more difficult. Tess’s mother had become wild upon hearing the news. Crazed with grief, she would have jumped from the tower to her death if Colin hadn’t physically restrained her.
Scotland’s Council of Regents, in Berwick for a meeting with English officials, had decided Evelyn’s fate that same week. She was to be sent away where she could bring no harm to anyone and live out the rest of her life in solitude. Evelyn herself had chosen the convent at Stichel.
Tess had been recovering at Roxburgh through all of this, and her mother refused to see her or talk to her. A stranger seemed to have inhabited Evelyn’s body since Burnett’s murder. She was a madwoman who claimed she’d never had either husband or daughter. But she was at peace with the sentence she’d been given. She planned to grieve her dead lover for the rest of her life.
“Now, ye don’t want to get me in trouble with that handsome lad now by falling ill again, do ye?”
Tess turned away from the window and smiled at the housekeeper. “He is coming back today, isn’t he?”
“That is what I hear.” Ina started serving the food.
“She is not giving you any trouble, is she?”
Colin’s voice made Tess cry out in joy. “You are back!”
He opened his arms, and they met in the middle of the room. He whirled her about and kissed her before she had a chance to say another word. They had only seen each other in fleeting moments this past week. And she couldn’t believe how much she had missed him.
It was a long time before Tess pulled out of his embrace. She looked around the room and found Ina had already slipped out.
“Thank you…for everything.” She hugged him again fiercely.
“Your mother seems comfortably settled in the convent.”
“Thank you,” Tess whispered sadly. “This is one part of my life that I would like to forget. I don’t want to think back about my mother’s deceit…about her hatefulness. I don’t think I ever want to come back to the Borders again.”
“I know this might surprise you, considering I am a Highlander, but there is nothing wrong with the Borders.” His hand caressed her face, and his blue eyes sparkled with that roguish glint that made her heart sing. “What you need is to replace the bad memories with good ones while you are still here.”
She smiled remembering their visit to Ravenie Castle and how he had enticed her through it. “Well, I already know you are an expert at that. I don’t think I shall ever walk through the gates at Ravenie and not remember…you.” She blushed at the thought of the way he had kissed her there. He had been so patient and supportive throughout that day.
“Perhaps we need to make a pact about this. Whenever one of us is troubled, it shall be the other’s duty to bring a smile back. Whenever one is ailing, it shall be the other’s responsibility to nurture them back to health. We’ll make it our calling in life to create those good memories and keep them alive for each other.”
Tess’s heart began to beat so hard that she thought her chest would burst. “I would like that.”
“Perhaps this pact should continue…indefinitely?”
She nodded once, twice, and then smiled up at him. A tear escaped, and then another. Suddenly, Tess was overwhelmed by the emotions surging within her. She quickly dashed away the tears on her face. “I love you, Colin. There is nothing that would make me happier than making this pact with you.”
The Highlander lifted Tess in his arms and spun her around. “And I love you, my own. Say that you’ll marry me.”
“Aye, Colin. I will marry you,” she whispered as he finally came to a stop. The laughter in her eyes, though, was replaced with sharp awareness as their gazes locked. “But tell me that I am not just dreaming this.”
“You are not dreaming.” Colin brushed his lips against hers. “You and I. Together for life. For ever and a day.”
Tess wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kisses. The happiness coursing through her was beyond anything she could have imagined. A thought struck her and she drew back a little.
“But what about your parents? Would they mind having their youngest son—”
“They already know. I was ready to pour my heart into your hands before we ever left the Highlands. But quite wisely, they suggested I should wait until your mind was settled about your mother.”
She couldn’t hold back her laugh. “So does this mean now that I get to meet the rest of the Clan Macpherson? I have been hearing from Ina all about your aunts and uncles and cousins—”
Colin’s arms remained wrapped around her. “And friends and cousins of friends. And before our wedding, you shall certainly be obliged to meet our neighbors an
d the neighbors’ cousins and friends of the neighbors’ cousins…”
“’Tis wonderful to have so many people who love and care for you so much that they actually want to meet me.”
“To be honest, they’ll all be coming to warn you about the scoundrel that you are marrying.”
Tess placed a kiss on his chin. “I’m sure your brothers will have more to say on that topic.”
“I have an idea.”
“What is it?” Tess asked.
“Before any of them arrive,” Colin said, scooping her off the floor with a devilish smile. “Let’s elope.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
We hope you enjoyed Tess and Colin’s story. As always, we have tried to depict a place and a time in a way that mingles the real and the imagined in an entertaining way. And Scotland is such a special place. Roxburgh Castle and the Isle of May and the ruins of St. Adrian Chapel are very real places. In fact, while researching this novel, we found that St. Adrian’s Chapel was recently discovered actually to be the chapel of an earlier Christian evangelist named St. Ethernan, who died in AD 669 while working among the Picts, an ancient people of Scotland who disappeared in the Middle Ages. His chapel, though, was a favorite shrine for pilgrims, visited by peasants and kings alike who traveled there hoping to be cured of all types of ailments. Today, the Isle of May is a favorite spot for day-tripping birdwatchers.
Several members of the Macpherson clan that you met in this story were initially introduced in some of our earlier adult historical romance novels. For those who are interested in seeing a family tree (of sorts), we have outlined the connections here.
We love to hear from our readers. You can contact us at:
www.JanCoffey.com
e-mail: [email protected]
Here's an excerpt from Jan Coffey & May McGoldrick's latest YA Novel
AQUARIAN
CHAPTER 1
No cell phone service. No cable TV. No mall. No bars. No party scene. No Internet. No Facebook. No traffic to throw yourself in front of.
“What,” Killian muttered, “am I getting myself into?”
Looking around in every direction from the small motor launch, she could see nothing. Darkness covered the Atlantic like the wing of some enormous black bird. No moon, no stars, no welcoming ray from any lighthouse or passing ship. Only an occasional lightning flash lit the invisible horizon before being instantly snuffed out.
The damp wind was cold. Killian pulled her Green Mountain Academy sweatshirt more tightly around her. She’d graduated only two weeks ago, but it felt like forever. She stared up at the silent old man at the wheel of the boat. In the darkness he was little more than a hunched silhouette, a pipe clenched in his teeth.
“How long before we reach Cuttylea Island?” she called out to him.
Thomas Eliot turned and looked back at her. Killian couldn’t see his eyes, but saw his hand dip into his jacket pocket. He stuffed something into the pipe. With practiced skill he produced a lighter from somewhere. He lit the pipe again, revealing the deep lines of his weathered face.
“How long?” he replied finally. The end of the pipe glowed as he puffed. The smell of the tobacco whipped by her, mingling with the briny scent of the sea and fish and old bait. “An hour. Tops.”
Everything that Killian feared was conspiring against her tonight. Night. Water. The distant lightning threatening ominously. She stared into the darkness to where ocean and sky ground together, producing those muffled flashes of light. The storm was approaching. She hated electrical storms at any time. The thought of being caught in one—out on the open sea in this ancient floating coffin—held no appeal for her.
She shivered. What disturbed her most were the memories that went along with the storms. So many nights she’d spent at her mother’s hospital bedside, looking out the sixth-floor window at Boston’s city lights. Lightning had illuminated the skyline the night Killian had been told nothing more could be done for Ama's cancer. Rain from a thunderstorm had been pelting the windows when she’d died a week later.
That was four years ago. She couldn’t change the past. What she had to think about was now. This summer. Come fall, she had no boarding school in Vermont to go back to. There was no college waiting for her, either. She hadn’t applied to any.
Restless, Killian looked back at the wake left by the boat’s engine.
A real ferry traveled between Hyannis and Cuttylea Island twice a week. The website said the crossing took three hours, one way. Killian hadn’t been able to get to Cape Cod for the trip out to the island on either of those days. So here she was, plowing through the increasingly heavy seas of the dark Atlantic. On a boat no bigger than a pickup truck.
She heard the rumble of thunder over the steady roar of the boat’s engines. Killian shivered again. She slid her butt along the wooden bench, moving closer to cockpit of the boat. Stretching up, she glanced ahead. The single headlight on the bow barely illuminated anything in their path. The dim light rising and dropping as the boat pitched forward into the growing swells did nothing to quell the uneasiness in her stomach.
“Do you think the storm will catch us before we reach the island?”
Thomas cocked his head and relit the pipe. Killian already knew there was no point in repeating the question. The old man wasn’t much of a talker. Half of the questions Killian asked had gone unanswered.
Lightning suddenly lit the choppy, rolling sea. Almost immediately, thunder exploded around them like a sledge hammer on an empty drum. The boat vibrated from the concussion. Killian dove inside the backpack between her feet, frantically dragging out her iPod and earpieces. Plugging herself in, she was stunned when no sound came out. The screen was lit, but no music. She turned the device off and on and watched as the screen came back to life. Still nothing. Killian tore the earpieces away and stuffed everything back in her bag.
She was shivering uncontrollably now. Here it was, the first week in June, but she was freezing. Reaching back into the bag, she pulled out a windbreaker. It belonged to her father. She’d snatched it at the last minute on her way out of the house.
Some of the literature she’d printed out about Cuttylea Island came out with the jacket, flying free in the sharp wind. Dropping the garment, she grabbed for the loose pages. They were gone, sweeping over the stern and fluttering like falling snow into the dark sea. Killian stared after them. Picking up the windbreaker, she yanked it over her head. She could smell her father in it. She welcomed the added warmth.
Killian had still been at school a month ago when the invitation came. It was from her mother’s great aunt, Hannah Winthrop. The note had asked her to come and spend the summer working on Cuttylea. At the time, Killian equated the offer with death by boredom. Three weeks later, reality reared its ugly head. She graduated and had to move back home.
Killian knew she wouldn’t fit into her father’s picture-perfect New England family. The new wife, the two-point-two kids, the dog, and the white picket fence. It was the family Rick had all-too-quickly constructed after her mother died. The picture didn’t include her. From her first week in Middlebury, she’d felt like a weed in the suburban flower patch.
So Hannah’s offer had begun to sound very attractive.
The rising and plunging of the boat was getting to Killian. At the top of each wave, her stomach lifted and hung in mid-air as the bow dipped and then dropped with a bang onto the next wave. Killian panicked. She hadn’t told Thomas that she didn’t know how to swim. She looked around. Not a lifejacket in sight.
Suddenly, the boat rocked as the driver cut the speed.
“What’s wrong?”
Without a word, the old man swung the wheel and gunned the engine. The boat carved a sharp arc, forcing Killian to grip the side to keep from sliding off the bench.
As they came around, Thomas was peering just ahead and then over the side. Killian turned in her seat, looking down into the water.
Then he cut the engines and the boat stopped.
; Her great aunt trusted this man. She’d sent him to Hyannis to get her. Or at least this was what Thomas had told Killian on the dock. Her mind now started questioning even that. She peered over the side, following his gaze.
Suddenly, a hand shot up from the dark waters. Before she could move, it was gripping the edge. Their fingers touched.
Killian gasped aloud and sprang backward. But there was nowhere to go. She tripped over her pack, landing hard against the bench running along the other side.
Her heart raced. The hand had been warm. Dead bodies don’t reach up out of the water.
The boat rocked sharply. When she straightened and turned around, Killian was astounded to see a young man, a head taller than Thomas, standing in the boat. Her legs gave up and she sank down onto the bench. The old man had draped a blanket over the swimmer’s shoulders.
His eyes were fixed on her. Killian felt her face flush hot under his steady gaze. Then the newcomer ducked down into the cabin space in the bow.
Thomas moved back behind the wheel and revved up the engines. The boat leapt forward, cutting through the waves.
“Who…who is that?”
“That’s Perth,” Thomas said over his shoulder. He pulled the pipe from between his teeth and banged out the contents on the side of the boat. “He’s training to swim the channel.”
“In this weath—?”
The old man cranked the wheel, turning the boat at full speed. Killian clutched the bench to keep from sliding into the sea.
For the first time, she noticed that it had begun to rain.
CHAPTER 2
Swimming the channel.
Names jumped at her. Cross Rip Channel. Muskeget Channel. Great Rip Channel. Killian couldn’t remember which of them went with what island off Cape Cod, but she recalled reading about inter-island swim competitions.
Tess and the Highlander Page 19