A Rogue at the Highland Court: An Arranged Marriage Highlander Romance

by Barclay, Celeste

  “You seem much happier than you were the last time I saw you,” Cairren whispered.

  “I am. Cairren, he’s not at all what I thought. It took me a while to trust he could be anyone other than the rogue we were used to, but he is so much more. He’s changed a great deal.”

  “And why do you think that is? Is he that much in love with you?”

  “God, if you’ll believe it. He said he prayed and felt God guiding him toward a different path. He said God’s light drew him to the path that only held me and a lifetime of fidelity. He’s proven he told the truth time and again.”

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And he loves you?”

  “Yes. I didn’t think it was possible, but he truly does.”

  “He looked fit to be tied when those men came to your table.”

  “I feared he’d beat them senseless, but he managed with restrain himself,” Allyson chuckled. “He’s a better person than I am. If any women had approached, I might’ve ended up in the castle’s dungeon. We had a run in with Lady Bevan earlier. I may not have been as polite as I should have been. In fact, I was quite vulgar, and I don’t regret it in the least.”

  “Good. I heard the king has arranged a marriage for her, too.”

  “To whom?” Allyson couldn’t help herself; she wanted to know this piece of gossip.

  “To auld Laird Farquharson.”

  “Good gracious, he’s old enough to be my father’s father. He’s got to be close to seventy.”

  “Aye, and word is, he’s still as randy as an old goat.”

  “What on earth did she do to deserve that?”

  “She had some unkind words about you while you were gone, bragging that Ewan and Eoin would return to her bed once you were back. But her gravest sin was trying to seduce the king when she didn’t realize the queen could see and hear her. You know the king prefers discretion, so it forced him to send her away. I overheard that the queen selected the groom.”

  “That is a shocking turn of events.”

  “Rather. The queen intends for her to leave two days after Easter.”

  “So she can watch the wedding,” the two women said together before dissolving into laughter.

  They clung to one another’s arm until Ewan came to retrieve his bride. Allyson promised to visit with Cairren for longer in the days to come, as she had a sense that something else happened while she was gone. As Ewan suspected, Eoin was nowhere in sight when he led Allyson to the exit. He’d seen his brother speaking to Cairstine Grant, but he didn’t see either of them as he and Allyson left. They retired to their chamber, where they spent most of their time over the coming week. Eoin shared a chamber with his father, allowing the newlyweds their space. Ewan left to train in the lists in the morning, and Allyson joined the queen and other ladies-in-waiting for their morning walk, but they spent their afternoons together. They joined the court for the evening meal, an expectation they couldn’t avoid. When they weren’t distracted with one another, Allyson drew and read; Ewan often serenaded her. The days between their return to court and their wedding slid past in a flurry of lovemaking and cuddling.

  * * *

  Allyson took one last glance at herself in the looking glass. It felt surreal to be in a gown she’d sewn four years ago but had kept stored in her chest. She’d sewn the gown when she learned she was being sent to court, understanding her parents hoped she would find a husband there. She’d wanted to be prepared, but as the years dragged on, she’d doubted when she would wear it. But she’d been resolute and saved it for this special day. Cairren helped style her hair, which she wore down but with a ribbon woven through a thick braid that coiled around her head. She’d never felt more beautiful than she did in that moment. She prayed Ewan would think she looked bonnie, too. She remembered their encounter in the dark passageway all those weeks earlier when he’d called her bonnie, and it had hurt her feelings to think he saw her as merely pretty when she knew her sisters were beautiful. She’d learned since then that bonnie meant more than just “pretty” to Highlanders. Now she enjoyed Ewan complimenting her appearance when he allowed his burr to color his words. It made her spine tingle.

  “You’re stunning, Allyson. Ewan won’t know what to do having to wait through the entire ceremony,” Cairren teased.

  “I’m glad the king convinced the bishop that we could shorten the vows outside the kirk and move directly to the wedding Mass. Seemed a little too late for a lengthy exchange. Ewan and I have already made our promises to one another.”

  “I suppose, but it would have been wonderful to see you standing there with your braw Highlander. They are so different from the men in the Lowlands. It’s rather exciting when they come to court.”

  “Perhaps, one day you’ll have your own,” Allyson teased, but when Cairren didn’t join her laughter she sent her maid away. She sat beside Cairren and took her friend’s hands in her. “What is it?”

  “My father sent word that he’s arranging a marriage for me, but I don’t know to whom.”

  “Perhaps it’s be a braw Highlander after all.”

  “The Lowlanders at court are snooty enough, but I hear that Highlanders detest outsiders. I couldn’t be more of one. I mean, look at me.” Cairren placed her hands on her sun-darkened cheeks before holding out her arms, pushing back her sleeves. Her olive skin shone in the candlelight.

  “I am looking at you. You’re one of the most attractive women at court. What man wouldn’t want you?”

  “Want to bed me, maybe, but marry me? Hardly. I won’t resemble any of the Scottish roses in the Highlands. I’ll stick out because I take after my mother’s people.”

  “And the Scots have a history with the French. You’re worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet. If anyone has learned the futility of that, it’s me.”

  “I suppose,” Cairren agreed. She smiled with warmth as she stood and walked to the door with Allyson.

  “You can always come to Huntley. Ewan and I will never turn you away.”

  “One runaway bride at court is more than enough. I shall just have to wait to see what happens.”

  The women left Allyson’s old chamber together and made their way to the chapel. A crowd already gathered near the entrance to the kirk, but they parted like the Red Sea to allow Allyson to make her way to where Ewan waited. He wore a fresh leine and his formal plaid. He had never looked more breathtaking to Allyson, and the people watching fell away as her attention focused solely on Ewan. His smile dazzled her as she watched him take in her appearance. The look in his eyes was a mixture of appreciation and hunger, lust and love. They joined hands as once more the Gordon plaid was wrapped around them.

  “I, Ewan Andrew Gordon, take you, Allyson Elliot Gordon, to be my wife. I plight thee my troth.” Ewan beamed at Allyson, squeezing her hands beneath the checkered wool.

  “I, Allyson Elliot Gordon, take you, Ewan Andrew Gordon, to by my husband. I plight thee my troth.” Allyson blinked several times as she struggled to keep the happy tears from falling. She refused to have anyone doubt her desire to marry Ewan. He pulled her against him, dipping his head for a kiss, uncaring that it was too soon in the service for that. The bishop cleared his throat but soon gave up, ordering everyone into the kirk for the Mass. If asked, neither remembered much of the Mass. It went on around them, but they had eyes for no one and nothing but each other. When the service was over, Ewan lifted Allyson off her feet and held her, kissing her in a manner that left no one in question that he loved his bride. He refused to rush, and it was only when Allyson tapped his shoulder that he eased her to the ground.

  “Need to breathe,” she panted. Ewan chuckled, then swept her into his arms. He carried her to the Great Hall, where the feast celebrating their marriage and the beginning of Eastertide commenced. The king and queen offered Ewan and Allyson special seats at the high table, but the honor was lost on them as they fed one another and shared a chalice. They spent much of t
he meal whispering to one another, smiling at their shared secrets. They remained for three dances, then escaped to the quiet and privacy of their chamber. Once they were both free of their wedding finery, Ewan helped Allyson take down her hair. He enjoyed brushing the golden strands as they flowed down her back. Allyson was content to relax as Ewan’s gentle touch made her body come alive.

  “Wife, I think it’s time we retire to that bed. We have a second wedding night to celebrate.”

  “Husband, if one is good, then two is better.”

  Ewan and Allyson climbed into bed, but laid on their sides looking at one another for a long time, only their hands touching. Slowly, they reached out, letting their hands roam over one another before Ewan rolled toward Allyson. He trailed kisses down her body until his lips brushed her curls. He laved her seam over and over as Allyson gripped his shoulders. Her knees fell wide as he ministered to her heated flesh, lapping up the cream that gathered in anticipation.

  “I want to touch you too, Ew,” Allyson begged. Ewan slid his body over hers until he nuzzled her neck, and she wrapped her hand around his cock. Only a few strokes later, Ewan seized her wrist, bringing her hand to his mouth. He kissed each fingertip before placing her hand on his shoulder. He thrust into her as she raised her hips to meet him. Ewan was determined not to rush this coupling. They took their time, building anticipation until the torment and need for release was too great to endure. They broke apart in one another’s arms. Just like every other night since they made love for the first time, they alternated between bouts of lovemaking and sleep until they could no longer shut out the outside world. It was midmorning when a knock came to their door.

  “That’ll be Eoin,” Ewan pulled his plaid around him and waited until Allyson covered herself with her robe. Ewan opened the door to find his twin on the other side. “We ken we need to be on the road. We’ll be in the bailey in a quarter hour.”

  Allyson couldn’t hear what else the twins said to one another, having discovered they didn’t always speak in complete sentences and often communicated more with looks than words. When Ewan shut the door, Allyson bounded out of bed and rushed toward the clothes she’d laid out the day before.

  “You don’t have to look quite so excited to escape our bed,” Ewan chuckled as he pulled Allyson’s robe off.

  “You said we’d be down in a quarter hour.”

  “Aye, that’s leaves us ten minutes. I dinna need that long,” Ewan teased as he cupped Allyson’s backside and pulled her against him. Allyson scanned their chamber. Ewan arranged for her belongings to be sent to Huntley the day after they arrived at court. They’d each packed their satchels the morning prior, so there was little for them to do but get dressed. Allyson shrugged, then grinned.

  “And I thought you’d only take five minutes.”

  “Cheeky lass.” Ewan followed Allyson to the end of the bed and growled at the lusty smile she cast him over her shoulder. Twenty minutes later and still a bit breathless, Ewan and Allyson joined Eoin and Andrew in the bailey. The king and queen appeared to bid them farewell, wishing them safe travels until they should see them again. Allyson rode in center of the riding party, with Ewan and Eoin flanking her and Andrew in the lead. It was three days of hard riding along the eastern coast and into the Highlands, but as they traveled inland, the Cairngorm Mountains took her breath away. She glanced at Ewan and remembered how she’d once compared the twin Highlanders’ size to the majestic peaks in the distance. Her home was now in the Highlands, far from the bitter memories of life along the border. Her future was with the Highlander who rode at her side, and she couldn’t ask for more.

  Epilogue

  Ewan watched as Allyson folded the missive that arrived that morning before easing their sleeping son from her breast. The bairn cooed and blew bubbles as Allyson wiped his plump lips and pulled her hair free of his tiny fingers. As if she sensed Ewan observing her, she looked over at her husband, who sat on the floor with their two older sons. Allyson had discovered she was carrying their oldest son, Torquil, soon after they arrived at Huntley. She cast up her accounts one morning, and Ewan forbade her to leave their bed until the healer examined her. When the midwife slipped past him to go up to the chamber where the healer remained with Allyson, Ewan’s legs buckled underneath him. Eoin suggested a dram of whisky, but Ewan was already taking the stairs two at a time. That was nearly five years ago. When, two years later, Allyson summoned the midwife again, Ewan was better prepared for news of their middle son’s impending arrival. Leith sat beside his older brother as they passed carved wooden soldiers back and forth. Allyson rose and carried their youngest son, Teague, to his cradle. At a year old, he was nearly too large for the infant's bed. All three of their sons took after their father in size and build. Ewan had feared for Allyson during each delivery as he watched her push three large bairns out of her tiny body. He knew then that his wife was invincible.

  “Angus’s written to say Mother’s dead,” Allyson whispered as she took Ewan’s hand as he led them back to the chair she’d just left. He sat and pulled her onto his lap. “It’s been five years since I last saw her, and I can’t say that I feel aught at the news that she’s gone.”

  “She wasna a well woman, mo ghaol. We kenned that. Yer father was right to send her to the convent. The nuns were able to tend to her.” Ewan gave up his courtly Lowland speech once they returned to Huntley, and Allyson was glad for it.

  Margaret Elliot spent the last five years of her life at an abbey near Redheugh, but she slipped into madness when she learned that Mary and Alice both got with child from men in their village and wouldn’t be marrying noblemen. The two sisters turned out to be content with their husbands, neither man tolerating their prima donna antics. Kenneth Elliot petitioned the king and Pope for an annulment which the Pope granted him, but he fell ill with the ague and died before he’d been able to seek a new bride. Angus took on the lairdship, and the Elliot clan thrived with a laird who kept himself informed of all things happening inside and out of the keep. Graeme proved to be a wise advisor to his older brother, and in the years since Allyson and Ewan married, the two clans strengthened their alliance by trading regularly. Allyson had put the past behind her and accepted her brothers for the men they became. But she hadn’t returned to Redheugh since the day she and Ewan rode away, and he promised she would never have to.

  “I know. It was better for everyone, but I feel as though I should be sad or even guilty that I don’t feel sad. There’s just naught. I was at least a little saddened by the news of my father’s passing. He made an effort once Mother went to the abbey, and he did get to meet Torquil. Does that make me a bad person?” Allyson picked up the missive again, but couldn’t bring herself to open it. She handed it to Ewan, but he put it aside, wrapping his arms around Allyson as she leaned into the comfort of his chest. Five years had deepened their abiding love. Ewan was a model husband, while Allyson did all she could to make him happy and to serve the clan that welcomed her with open arms.

  “Ye’re nae a bad person, mo aingeal. Ye are completely normal to feel as ye do. Neither Eoin nor I was as saddened by Mother’s death as I’m sure we will be when Father passes. Neither of our mothers were the type ye are.” Allyson nodded as she looked at the family they’d made together. She’d sworn the moment she learned she was expecting Torquil that she would love her children equally and never let a day go by that they didn’t know she loved them all. Allyson kissed Ewan neck as he stroked her hair. She loved the life they created together and the family they were raising. She had more than she’d ever imagined.

  “Mo chridhe, do you think Eoin will have time to carve another wee bed for Teague? I will need that cradle again in six moons.”

  Ewan froze as he absorbed Allyson’s words, and when he was certain he’d understood, he leaned away. “A bairn?” He whispered.

  “Aye.” Allyson and Ewan kissed until their children became restless and demanded their attention. Allyson tucked hair behind Ewan’s ear before w
hispering, “And that’s how we ended up with four bairns in five years.”

  Thank you for reading A Rogue at the Highland Court

  Celeste Barclay, a nom de plume, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Celeste enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. When she's not writing, she's working or being a mom.

  Visit Celeste’s website, www.celestebarclay.com, for regular updates on works in progress, new releases, and her blog where she features posts about her experiences as an author and recommendations of her favorite reads.

  Are you an author who would like to guest blog or be featured in her recommendations? Visit her website for an opportunity to share your insights and experiences.

  Have you read Their Highland Beginning, The Clan Sinclair Prequel? Learn how the saga begins! This FREE novella is available to all new subscribers to Celeste’s monthly newsletter. Subscribe on her website.

  www.celestebarclay.com

  Join the fun and get exclusive insider giveaways, sneak peeks, and new release announcements in

  Celeste Barclay’s Facebook Ladies of Yore Group

  Chat with the hunky heroes from Celeste Barclay’s steamy romances

  Would you like to chance to receive exclusive content and cover reveals of my books?

  Subscribe to chat with these braw Highlanders and pirates, and they will show you all. You can talk to them through Facebook Messenger.

  Subscribe to chat with Highlanders and Pirates

  The Highland Ladies