HIGHLAND SOLDIERS
Book 2: The Betrayal
J.L. Jarvis
A PROMISE OF LOVE
On their last night together, Highland soldier Duncan MacDonell swore to love his Jenny, and she him, giving themselves to each other with only the Highland moon as their witness.
A FATHER’S DEMAND
Jenny’s father arranged a marriage for her, and made sure that she could not say no. She had never dreamt of disobeying her beloved father’s wishes, but an arranged marriage was too cruel a theft of her dream. Left with no choice, she would betray her true love, and he would never know why.
A LOVER BETRAYED
Now home, the sight of Jenny in another man’s arms rouses a fury in Duncan he has never known, even in battle. Forced to face the woman who betrayed him, he fights to hold back the pain that sears his scorned heart. As Jenny struggles to honor her duty to family, she cannot deny her heart’s longing. Driven by love, Jenny takes a stand to win Duncan back. But their passion will come at a terrible cost.
The Betrayal is the second book in the Highland Soldiers series.
HIGHLAND SOLDIERS
Book 2: The Betrayal
J.L. Jarvis
Copyright © 2013
All Rights Reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-9858554-8-2
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 1
Invergarry, Scotland, April 1679
On the night before battle, a Highland chief would choose his best men for the Ghillie Callum, or sword dance. Each man placed two swords before him in the sign of a cross. One sword represented the soldier’s own sword, and the other the sword of his enemy. As the pipes played in cadence, the dance would begin. With agile precision and power the warriors’ feet would tap deftly around the crossed swords. Plaids would fly, as would the spirits of all who looked on until their hearts pounded in sync with the drum. According to legend, if a warrior’s foot touched the sword, he would be wounded or killed in the battle to follow.
*
The crowd made room in the bailey for the dancers. The chief called out his choices, Duncan MacDonell among them. He took his place before a pair of crossed swords. Soldiers from all over Clan MacDonell land had gathered before their descent to the lowlands in service of the king. They would quell rebellious Covenanters and root out their radical leaders.
Peppered about them, small fires bathed the night in a warm amber light that caught languid ribbons of smoke. Duncan breathed in the comforting scent of charred peat while he waited for the others to get into position. One still form in the crowd drew his eye. Fair Jenny MacRuer’s smile made him forget himself and smile back. By the time the reedy drone of the bagpipes slid up to their pitches, he had the good sense to look elsewhere.
The beating bodhrán drove the dancers on. Without warning, the music sped up and fueled the crowd with excitement, as cheers and cries rose with the sparks from the fire to spur on the men. Duncan MacDonell was tall and lean, with sinewy muscles that lent his masculine grace an intrinsic power. One moment he appeared nearly weightless, while the next, a force using the ground for his singular purpose. All the while, his erect bearing embodied Highland pride.
A movement from the skirts of the crowd caught his eye. A young man had drawn too close to Jenny. Duncan had seen him before. He was one of the clansmen who had just arrived. Although average in height, he was broad in the shoulders and cast an imposing presence beside Jenny. Duncan turned away as he followed the dance pattern around the swords. His heart pounded along with the drum. When he came back to face them, he remembered the name. Tavish. The scoundrel had Jenny’s hand in his grasp. She was easing her hand from his, in her too gentle way. Duncan’s jaw tightened as he glared at the two of them. In that instant, he lost concentration long enough to misstep. The clang of sword against sword drew a gasp from the crowd. As the other dancers went on, Duncan stepped over the two swords and strode over to Jenny, ignoring the pats on his shoulders and back. Intercepted, he shrugged off words of support with half a nod. Soon back on course, he neared Jenny. She gave him a brief but direct look, and then turned and disappeared into the crowd. Tavish, who had been eyeing Duncan’s approach, turned back to Jenny. By then, she was lost amid milling clansmen. Stopped by some friends, Duncan took a drink from a flask he was offered, and soon made an excuse to wander away.
He searched through the shadows of trees. Hurried footsteps approached form behind. Duncan’s hand went to his dirk as he pivoted around.
“Duncan!” Jenny laughed and gripped his shoulders to give them a playful shake as she spoke almost tauntingly. “Were you going to fight me?”
Duncan smiled at her. His dark eyes swept down to her lips, and back up to a gaze that washed over him. “Och, no, darlin’. I was startled, is all.”
With a sudden glance back toward the others, he took her hand and led her down the footpath to the woods. A half-moon lit their way as they walked between trees, under cover of thickening branches. He did not ask where she might wish to go, nor did she question him. They just went far enough to be cloaked in dark shadows, where he pulled her into his enveloping arms. His lips touched the strands of her wheat-colored hair as he breathed in its lavender scent.
Jenny molded her body against his and sighed. “Do you know how I’ll miss you?”
Duncan opened his mouth, but any reply was lost as his rough hands met the soft skin of her neck and he tilted her chin up. Her full lips parted to meet his. Disturbed by a breeze, the pines murmured. Duncan glanced up for only an instant. With strong hands, he held her face gently and peered through the night mist at her eyes. “I’ve a mind to take you back into the light just to gaze at your face again.”
Jenny’s smile sounded in her voice. “If you dinnae know by now what I look like–”
“I do, but I might forget while I’m away.” He put his sturdy arms about her waist.
“You’d best not!” Her voice softened. “For I willnae forget you.” She brushed her fingers over his cheekbone and lips, and they kissed, hungry for all they could take before they would be forced to part.
Duncan rested his forehead against hers. “I cannae forget. You are burned in my soul.” As he planted a kiss on her forehead, his hand slid down the length of her arm. Taking her hand, he led her deeper into the woods to a clearing he’d found in the daylight. A massive yew tree rested its lower branches on the ground, forming a tent to conceal them. She started to duck under the limbs, but Duncan tightened his grip, drawing her back. “Jenny.” He had not meant
to sound stern.
In her soft, soothing tone, Jenny said, “Have you changed your mind, Duncan?”
When he could not seem to answer, she said, “Och, is it that sword dance? That’s a foolish superstition.”
“Jenny!” He took a moment to calm himself. “Jenny, darlin’, I love you.”
“And I love you!” She put her arms about him and buried her face in his neck. “And I told you I want to be with you before you are gone.” She took in a quick breath. “I dinnae mean gone forever! You must know what I meant.”
“I do.” He started to smile, but the thought sobered him. But if I were to die–”
“Wheesht, I willnae hear it!” Her fingers brushed over his lips.
He grasped her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. “I want to hold you and not let you go.”
Jenny reached up to smooth his troubled brow. “I’m here,” she whispered. She then combed her fingers through the brown strands if his hair as her luminous eyes swept over his face.
Duncan’s eyes burned into hers. “Marry me.”
“You know that I will. When you get back–”
“Marry me now.” He gripped her shoulders impatiently. “I’m yours. My heart, every breath, every dream for my life has you in it.”
Jenny’s soft blue eyes shone in the moonlight.
“Promise me.” Her lips were too close not to steal a kiss. “Promise me now that you’ll be mine as I have been yours for too long to remember.” Her hands trembled in his. A trace of a smile formed as he lifted her hands to his lips. “Will you marry me, Jenny?”
“Yes.”
“Now? Before I go?”
“Yes!” He could not see her face flush.
His eyes swept over her hair as he touched it with wonder. Moonlight filtered through leaves overhead, and obscured his vision of her. But not even night shadows could veil the soft light in her eyes.
Duncan reached into his sporran and pressed into her hand a broken coin. He matched his half to hers. “I will carry this with me. Like this coin, I’ll not be whole without you.” Hers had a tiny hole that was strung on a chain. “Will you wear this for me?”
As she nodded, he fastened the chain about her neck. His sure fingers lingered there for a moment. Then he untied the kertch that bound her thick hair, setting loose silken strands that spilled over her shoulders. She helped him tie the kertch around both their hands.
He peered at her. “I promise myself to you now, but in truth, I am already yours.” He fought against a grin. “Whether you want me or not.”
With a light laugh, Jenny said. “I am yours, and I will be forever.” Her ebullience waned as she thought of his parting. “So come back to me soon, for I’ll miss you.” She pulled her hand from the kertch and leaned against his chest and breathed in his scent.
Duncan stroked her hair. “My Jenny. I’ll be home as soon as they let me, and then we’ll be together, where we belong.”
She said softly, “Are we handfasted then?”
“For a year and a day.”
Jenny shook off her sadness for his sake. With a glint in her eyes, Jenny winced. “Och, Duncan. When you say it aloud, it sounds like a very long time.”
He held her at arm’s length and eyed her shrewdly. “Aye, but you promised, and I’ll not let you go now.” He grinned and gave her a thorough hug, then he cradled her head to his chest. “When I return, we’ll have a proper wedding.”
Softly she said, “Not if my parents find out.”
With false cheer, he hugged her close and said, “Then I shall steal you away. But you’re mine, and no one–not even your parents–will keep us apart.”
Jenny clutched the cloth of his leine. “Well you’ll have to steal me, for I cannae make them listen to me. I’m not strong like you, Duncan.”
He gazed down, and held her chin gently. “But you must be. You will be.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his with a nod. He gave her that sure and easy look that always filled her with confidence.
“What’s this?” Moonlight caught the tears that clung to her lashes. “Are you sorry already?”
She grinned, forcing herself to be cheerful. “I’ll have plenty of time for that later.”
“Oh, you will, will you?”
“Aye! But you’re such a braw lad, I’d be even sorrier to lose you.” Her smile faded as the thought of losing him weighed on her heart.
Duncan drew her close until their brows touched. “You’ll not lose me.”
She sank into the comforting crook of his neck, while he stroked her hair.
“Come, darlin’.” He lifted and carried her over the threshold of the bower. The scent of the trees and the earth filled their senses as Duncan loosened his belt until it dropped with his sporran to the ground. After spreading his plaid over the bed of leaves, he unclasped Jenny’s arisaid and let it fall from her shoulders. Gently, he unfastened her shift and her skirt and slid them down over her alabaster curves. Then he held his hand out to her, and she took it as he guided her down to the bed of leaves.
*
The next morning, the families and friends saw their men off. Duncan stole a glance back at Jenny, who forced a brave smile as she touched the chain round her neck that held the broken coin hiding under her shift. His last expression bore through her from a face kept void of emotion, lest anyone suspect him of stealing a glimpse of his lover. But those dark eyes sent a rush of heat to her heart. Jenny feared it would burst. Duncan’s gaze drifted downward, as if he might change his mind about leaving. Abruptly, he turned and rode off with the others. When he was gone, Jenny slipped away and followed the footpath into the woods, where she found the old yew tree and sat underneath it. She touched the crushed leaves strewn over the ground. She could still feel his skin against hers.
Chapter 2
Jenny awoke with a start. She had cried herself to sleep in the woods on the bed of leaves she had shared with Duncan. The night before, she had been too full of thoughts of her future with Duncan to sleep. It was not until morning, when the men were all gone and emotions were spent, that fatigue caught up with her. She had slept here through the afternoon, and now dusk was settling. Her parents would wonder about her.
She walked home past the strips of land that her father, as tacksman, rented to farmers. Duncan’s parents farmed one of these tacks, which put them beneath Jenny’s station–as she had often been reminded.
Jenny stopped as her father walked out of the cottage where Duncan lived with his parents. Brodie MacDonell followed, looking unkempt and servile. He paused and put his hands on the doorframe to steady himself before following Andrew MacRuer down the footpath through the garden. Barely pausing, Brodie pleaded. Jenny did not need to hear what he said to know what it was about. In recent years, drinking had gotten the better of Brodie. Duncan kept the farm going despite his father’s frequent absences. He disappeared for hours–sometimes days–only to return drunk and unfit for farm chores. They were often behind in their rent, a fact which Jenny’s father never failed to point out.
“Jenny!” Her father turned back to give a gruff nod to Brodie, and turned and smiled at his daughter. Extending his arm, he said, “Come, we can walk home together.”
They walked in silence until Jenny asked, “Father, is something amiss?”
With a backward glance, her father said, “They’re nearly a year overdue with the rent.”
Jenny hid her alarm. She wondered if Duncan knew how bad things were. “But surely Duncan will save money for rent while he’s gone.”
“Not enough for what they owe,” said her father.
Jenny softly asked, “What are you going to do?”
“I rent the tack to make money. If they won’t pay, someone else will.”
“But, Father, you wouldnae put them out.”
He smiled at her warmly. “Not if they pay their rent, lass. Now let’s talk of pleasanter things.”
Jenny opened her mouth to continue, but her father interrupted.
“We’re to have a visit from the MacLeans this evening.”
Jenny knew who they were, and had little interest in knowing more. Mr. MacLean was a laird from a half-day’s ride away. Her father looked up to the man. He had married above his own station, and was now a prosperous laird, as a result.
Jenny’s father went on about Tavish, the son, but Jenny barely listened. She had always been courteous to Tavish, for it was expected. However, his growing interest in her was unsettling, so much so that she sought ways to avoid him. In the presence of wealth and power, this was easily done. Tavish valued social stature more highly than Jenny. He imposed his presence upon others, never fearing that it might be unwanted. This presumption applied doubly toward Jenny. Just last night, he had nearly dragged her away from the sword dance, never asking whether she wanted to go with him. All she had wanted was to watch Duncan and to memorize each feature, each step, and each gesture. With one last night together, no one else had mattered. It was only good fortune that had brought someone to turn Tavish’s head long enough for Jenny to disappear into the crowd.
*
“Jenny, where have you been?” Rowena MacRuer looked up from the menu she was discussing with the cook. With a nod, she handed the menu back to the cook and turned to her daughter. “Och, look at you! Go and fix yourself up.”
Jenny lowered her chin, hiding her frown as she answered her mother. “Aye, Mum.” Sometimes she wished she were not such a dutiful daughter.
Rowena gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek and slipped her arm into his as they left the kitchen.
“Mrs. MacRuer?” A maid walked down the hallway to them.
Rowena heaved a sigh. “What is it?”
“Mrs. MacDonell is here to see you.”
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