Castles, Kilts and Caresses

by Carmen Caine

  Then without warning, Aidan crossed the room and stood before her. He grabbed her forearms and lifted her in the air until they were face to face. His eyes bore into hers. She knew he looked for some sign of wickedness, but she was furious and would not pretend to be the dulcet lamb just to satisfy his suspicion. She returned his gaze with what she hoped was a menacing scowl, but to her annoyance, Aidan’s lips spread into a wide grin as he put her feet on the ground and turned to Ronan.

  He clamped his hand on Ronan’s shoulder. “So you have at last lost your heart to love. Not that I can blame him,” he said looking back at Shoney, “On my life, I would swear you were the most comely lass on Mull.”

  “He should know, Shoney. He is always looking,” Ronan grinned.

  “Pardon me for interrupting,” she snapped, “but did either of you pigheaded louts hear that I just threw you out of my home.”

  The two men smiled at her. Then moving her chairs by the fire, they sat down. “Mother of all,” she screamed as she stormed outside despite the darkness, slamming the door behind her.

  ***

  “You are heading down an impassable road, Ronan,” Aidan said as his eyes darted around the hut. Ronan could tell his friend was still not at ease in Shoney’s home, but he could not blame him. It took more than one visit for him to stop watching over his shoulder for the legendary witch to appear.

  “Difficult, I will admit but not impossible,” Ronan replied.

  “I am assuming when she stormed out of here just now swearing to the Mother of all that she did not mean the Blessed Mother,” Aidan said dryly as he casually pointed to the carvings of gods lining the back of Shoney’s table.

  “What of it,” Ronan grunted.

  “Well, ‘tis just that she may not be a witch—a fact no one will believe—but she is an idolater.”

  Ronan did not reply. As far as he was concerned Shoney’s beliefs were none of Aidan’s business.

  “Perhaps it is not as bad as I fear,” Aidan began to laugh as he continued, “I mean, ‘tis not as though she paints her body and dances around naked, making offerings to the gods.”

  The memory of Shoney with the beautiful blue paintings of animals lining her graceful limbs came to Ronan’s mind. The sweet sound of her song invaded his ears, and the memory of her swaying hips as she moved to the music of her prayer made him ache for her.

  “Do you have a point,” Ronan snapped.

  “God’s blood, you mean she does? Ronan, Father Colin will defame her name to anyone who will listen, which, incidentally, will be everyone. If you even try to introduce her into the clan, your father will never forgive you. I’d wager he and the council would banish you for certain.”

  Ronan refused to hear Aidan’s warning. Shoney was the finest woman, endowed with every quality any maid might hope to possess. Not to mention, she had the will and courage of a warrior. Perhaps she did have a slight temper and no understanding of the limitations of her stature, but all anyone had to do was meet her and they would know her goodness.

  “Ronan, you may choose to ignore me, but you must know I am right.”

  “I will find a way, and I will call on your aid if need be,” Ronan said. Then he decided it was time to change the subject. “How did you know I was here?” he asked.

  “When you did not return last night, I set out to find you. Ever since you started making a habit of disappearing, I have scoured the island for you. This evening, I realized there was only one place left to look. So I headed west. I don’t mind admitting I almost pissed myself from fear as I approached her hut, but then I found your sporran outside.”

  “And you came charging in here to rescue me,” Ronan interrupted, “despite being demented with fear. I am impressed, Aidan.”

  “That isn’t entirely true. I actually stood outside for more than an hour working up the courage to go in after you,” he grinned.

  “’Tis reassuring to know I can depend on you regardless of the danger,” Ronan smirked. “Now, listen here. Before I go after her and cool her temper, I must know whether or not you are still afraid?”

  “If that is your way of asking me if I believe in her, then I will tell you the truth. I witnessed in her eyes a candor I seldom see in the fairer sex. I do not doubt she is who she says. What I doubt, however, is whether any good may come from what you’ve both started.”

  Ronan nodded. He knew there was weight to Aidan’s caution, but he could also not help feeling hopeful. If Aidan could meet Shoney and accept the undeniable truth, then it stood to reason so would his family and in time the whole clan. Perhaps, Shoney’s merit alone was enough to erase past prejudices. Then there would be no need for disguises or deceptions. She could be herself for the first time.

  He spotted her straightaway despite the darkness, having ventured only as far as the Dervaig Stones. He walked up behind her, and, moving aside her soft waves, he pressed his lips to her neck, but she jumped away as though dodging a hot poker.

  “Keep away from me, Ronan. I have had enough of you for one night.”

  He could not help but grin as he said, “I could never have my fill of you.” Did she blush or was that fury coloring her cheeks? It was too dark to be sure.

  “I know you are angry because I did not allow you to challenge Aidan to a fight, but you cannot deny his size and might,” Ronan said.

  She whirled around, surprising him as she stalked back to where he stood and stuck her finger in his face. “First, you put far too much faith in size, which is not surprising since you are as big as a giant, but being small also has its advantages in combat. You should not discount any opponent by appearance lest you find yourself surprised one day. Second, I am not angry because I did not have your so-called permission to challenge Aidan. My fury can be blamed on your treatment of me as though I were your child and on your complete disregard for my wishes.”

  “You wished us take our leave in a most inhospitable manner despite the tenuous peace I was trying to keep. I could also claim injury by your treatment, but I choose not to focus on the latter half of the evening. I would rather remember the earlier moments.”

  That time she unmistakably blushed. He slid his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her lips.

  “Is all forgiven then?” he asked.

  “I suppose your claim to injury is as valid as my own, but all that transpired here tonight changes nothing. I will not relinquish my name or my past, Ronan.”

  “You may not have to,” he said as he nodded toward her door. “You have another ally, Shoney,” he smiled.

  “Are you certain he is trustworthy?” she asked.

  “I would wager my life on it,” Ronan asserted. “And if Aidan can see the truth, then why not the rest of my family.”

  Aidan drew their attention back to the door as it swung open, and he stepped into the night. Striding over to Shoney, he handed her a plump thistle.

  “I found this in his sporran,” he smiled. “I am assuming it was meant for you.”

  Shoney brought the flower to her nose and inhaled its scent. She was overwhelmed by the night’s events. She closed her eyes and remembered Ronan’s hands on her skin as she surged with desire. Her eyes flew open, and she cleared her throat hopeful neither man had guessed her thoughts, but when she met Ronan’s gaze, his eyes mirrored the need churning within her depths.

  He closed the distance between them and lifted her off the ground and into his arms. She instantly forgot they were not alone as she circled her arms around his neck and placed a slow kiss to his lips.

  “I do hate to be the bucket of cold water,” Aidan began, “but we must go, Ronan. We will be missed if not on the training fields by sunrise, and I at the very least must get some rest tonight.”

  “He is right, Shoney. I have to go, but watch for my return, for I will be gone mere moments. I have not the will to stay away,” he grinned.

  She buried her face into his neck. Fear bristled up her spine, causing her to shiver as the weight of his absenc
e settled over her, and her vision of being rejected and cast aside flooded her mind.

  “Do not fear, Shoney. I will return. I promise you,” he whispered.

  “Do you know how often I have stood here looking toward Gribun?” she began. “Never at this time, of course—too dark,” she smiled, “but I stood, wondering who was out there.” She threaded her fingers into his hair as her lips lingered a breath away from his. “Never did I imagine such a man as you, Ronan. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for seeing me for who I really am.”

  “Since you did once refer to me and my clan as enemy invaders who destroyed your people and your way of life, I believe we have both put old prejudices to rest,” he grinned. “So you also have my thanks.”

  He lifted her high in the air and spun her around, and she laughed despite her sadness. Then she stood in the night, watching their departure and remained even when she could no longer see his outline through the shadowy darkness. She prayed for his swift return and for her heart to be strong. But as she closed the door and stared at her empty quarters, she longed for the sound of his laughter and the feel of his strong hands on her body. Climbing under her blanket, she imagined she slept enclosed in his arms.

  When morning came, she busied herself with chores. Having used the last of the ivy salve on Aidan’s lip, she set to replenishing her supply. Then she collected eggs from her chickens’ favorite laying spots, finding twice as many as the day before. Summer arrived, and she could not contain her excitement. Her life was a flood of possibilities now more than ever. Ronan could be at that very moment making his way to her hut. She glanced down at her stained tunic and grimy hands and decided with that in mind she needed a bath.

  At nightfall, she made porridge and baked two bannock loaves over the fire lest Ronan return hungry for supper. Her gaze flitted back and forth between the warm bannock and the closed door. As her stomach growled, she willed the door to open and Ronan to emerge from the night. But the door did not budge, and she ate in silence.

  The evening slipped away and finally she surrendered to fatigue. Lying on her pallet, she glanced at the second loaf uneaten on the table, but it mocked her. She scowled, turning away only to be taunted by the closed door. She screeched with frustration. Her patience was running out, but surely he would come on the morrow.

  In the morning, she awoke and scanned her quarters, hoping he waited for her to rise, but her hut was empty. She rose and grabbed the bread off the table and gnawed off a bite as tension seized her body, stiffening her shoulders.

  She stopped chewing and closed her eyes and released a slow breath. She could not pass the hours while apprehension rattled her nerves. As she finished the last crusty bite of bread she decided to try her hand at fishing to occupy her mind with something other than penetrating amber eyes. But as the day drew to a close, and she walked back into her hut, she cursed once again.

  “Well, at least the fishing was successful,” she said dryly as she emptied her satchel on the table.

  Her nets were drying, spread out on rocks set back from the lapping waves, and a pile of herring glistened on her table, but she did not see their scaly bodies. All she saw was Ronan.

  As day gave way to night, she submitted to her weakness and allowed him to take over her every thought. And for the next few days, she did as she was bid: She watched for him. Gazing out over the moors,

  she looked for his coming, but each night, she turned back inside alone.

  On the seventh morning, she awoke with clenched fists. Had it all been a lie? She did not know, but she would be damned if she waited around any longer to find out. Casting her blanket aside, she grabbed the cloak of the Witch of Dervaig. She refused to watch for his return another day. If he would not come to her, then she would go to him and hear from his own lips why he stayed away. Sweeping the cloak over her shoulders, she stepped onto the moors, limping and shuffling toward Gribun. She may not be a witch, but he was sorely mistaken if he thought he could use her and not fear the consequences. No, Ronan would not be punished with magic, but if he cast her aside as her vision foretold, she would make sure he suffered.

  Chapter 13

  “’Tis the Witch,” a chorus of children screamed as they raced past Ronan and Aidan.

  “God’s blood,” Ronan swore as he grabbed hold of a squirmy little boy and lifted him high in the air.

  “Where is she? Where is the Witch?” He demanded, but the boy could only stare at him with pale, terror-stricken eyes. Apparently, he was as scared of an angry, oversized warrior as he was by the Witch of Dervaig, but Ronan had no patience for the boy’s fear. He gave him a little shake and shouted, “Tell me where you saw the Witch, lad, or I’ll take a switch to your hide.”

  “Ronan,” Aidan snapped. “For pity’s sake, give the lad to me.”

  Ronan handed over the dirty faced whelp who was now screaming and flailing his skinny legs. Aidan put the boy’s feet on the ground and crouched down until their eyes met. “Alright then, lad, I saved you from the big, scary giant. Now, tell me where you saw the Witch.” The boy cupped his mouth as he whispered into Aidan’s ear. “Good lad,” Aidan smiled. Then he stood and gave the boy a swat on his rear end. “Now get going. The giant’s stomach rumbled, and you’d make him a tidy snack.” The boy’s eyes nigh bulged out of his head before he tore down the lane as if the devil himself gave chase.

  “You’d like to think you are the nice one,” Ronan said dryly, “but you are a rotter same as me. Now out with it. Where did he see her?”

  “Heading into the north end of the forest,” Aidan said.

  “On the outskirts of Gribun?”

  Ronan wondered why she would take a path so close to the village. Then the answer came to him.

  “She wanted to be seen,” he said. “She is vexed with me.”

  “Well, it has been a full week, and you did vow to return sooner,” Aidan replied. “Women don’t like waiting, nor do they take kindly to broken promises.”

  “I do not need reminding,” he snapped. “I am painfully aware of how many days have passed, but I have had meetings and training. Hellfire, Aidan, we are on the brink of war.”

  Aidan threw his hand up. “’Tis not me you need to be telling all this to—‘tis Shoney. With that in mind, Ronan, should we not go find her?”

  “Aye,” he grumbled, “and swiftly. If she loses her temper, there is no telling what she might do. It will be hard enough to convince the clan she is just a normal girl. The last thing I need is for her the challenge a passing warrior to a duel.”

  Aidan burst into laughter.

  “What is so funny,” Ronan growled.

  “I’m sorry, my friend, I did not mean to make light of the matter, but I imagined Shoney confronting big, harry Dugald with sword at the ready, and picturing Dugald’s reaction just did me in.”

  Ronan could not help but smile. “I have found a spirited lass,” he chuckled.

  “That is one way to describe her,” Aidan grinned.

  “Something tells me we are about to witness just how spirited she can be,” Ronan said with a grimace as he headed toward the forest.

  Upon entering the wood, he wondered how long it would take to find her, but he did not have to wonder long. Within moments, the Witch appeared from behind a tight cluster of trees and stormed toward them.

  “Saints preserve us,” Aidan cringed as the figure charged.

  Ronan had to admit Shoney was a chilling sight. She was fully enclosed within the folds of the tattered cloak of the Witch, but she had abandoned the usual limp and shuffle. If he didn’t know better, then he would have sworn the Witch of Dervaig had sprouted wings. But just as she was upon them, she flung her hood back and revealed her waves of golden hair and her fierce steel eyes.

  “Sweet Jesus, thank you,” he heard Aidan mutter at his side.

  She stood unflinching with legs apart and hands on her hips. Her head barely reached his chest. He had three times the breadth of shoulder, but still she brandish
ed her might like a chieftain.

  “How dare you cast me aside, Ronan MacKinnon,” she said as she jabbed him in the chest with her pointed finger. “And to think, I trusted you. I was a fool to dismiss my vision,” she shouted.

  He grabbed her wrist and turned her hand over and kissed her palm, but she yanked her hand away and cradled it as though he had stung her.

  “Let me begin by clarifying that I have not cast you aside as you put it. I demand to know what gave you that idea,” he said.

  “You told me to watch for you,” she shouted. “You told me you could not bear to stay away. You led me to believe your return was imminent not in a week’s time.”

  “Ronan, she does have a point,” Aidan said.

  Ronan glared at him before turning back to Shoney. “I have my duties, Shoney. I have been very clear about this from the beginning. Do you know how much I risk speaking to you right now so close to the village?”

  Aidan once again interrupted, “Shoney, he also makes a good point.”

  “Aidan,” both Ronan and Shoney shouted in unison, “shut up.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough,” he said, backing away. “I will keep watch while you both work through this mess alone.”

  Ronan waited until Aidan was out of ear shot. Then he turned back to Shoney. “I don’t want to fight, Shoney.”

  And he meant it. Seven days had seemed like an eternity, and now that she was finally standing in front of him, the last thing he wanted to do was argue. Looking from side to side, ensuring they were indeed alone, he said, “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

  “Are you taking me to the village?” Shoney demanded. “Because that is the only place I want you to take me right now. I cannot stomach anymore deception or broken promises. Let us take our chances with the truth.”

  “Nay, Shoney,” his hand ran through his hair in agitation, but he worked to keep his temper at bay. “You know I cannot. My people are already anxious about the threat of war. Their actions will be guided by fear. They will think you are a bad omen.”