Highlander’s Mysterious Lady (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Fiona Faris

  She thought of James. What kind of a widow have I become? She scolded herself for quickly falling for another man. Is that it? Have I fallen for another? She could not bear to think that way.

  She had made a commitment. Even if she and James had struggled before his death, he was committed to him and her role as duchess. What did it say about her loyalty if she so quickly moved out of her grieving? Her heart fluttered at such dark thoughts. Inside, she wanted to believe she had the right to fall in love again, that what she had with Brodie was special, something that out of the ordinary. The way she felt with Brodie reminded her of how Helena felt about Marcus. She believed in such a love, and as much as she had loved James, she did not love him the way that Helena loved Marcus, an overwhelming, all-consuming love.

  Brodie stirred and opened his eyes quickly as he reached over to her side of the bed. He smiled when he saw her sitting up.

  “Yer up nearly before the sun rays. Lay with me, let me hold ye, lassie,” he pulled her back down against the mattress. Beatrice saw the broad smile on his lips as his eyes lazily closed. She could not turn away from him, she could not walk out of this room. She had to admit that she felt an attachment to this man. So she lay back down, turning her body to fit against his He pulled her as close as possible until her head rested just below his chin.

  “I love yer smell of blueberries, lavender, and honey,” Brodie mumbled as he drifted back to sleep. Tucked in his arms, Beatrice knew, even if she wanted to leave, there was no way she could without hurting both of them. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to allow herself a morning where she did not let grief overwhelm her as the sun stretched high outside the window.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A few days passed after Samhain and Brodie, and Beatrice returned to their usual routine. Helena and Beatrice sat on stretch of grass near the loch, snacking on pork scones. Brodie had tasks to attend to, as did Marcus, so the two women took a moment to sit alone.

  “I am so happy you let yourself be with him that night,” Helena smiled after Beatrice recounted the details of Samhain. “You are much happier with him, and frankly, I think the two of you are quite a match.”

  “Well, yes, we are, but I am not sure what to do now. Of course, I am enjoying my time with him, but my time here at the castle has got to come to an end. I have much to tend to at home. I cannot simply disappear from my reality.”

  “But why not? Oh Bea, have you not suffered enough? With everything that you faced with James, the pressures of bearing an heir, the pressures of being the perfect duchess, the pressures of giving up the things you wanted in pursuit of wifely duties. When will you allow yourself the freedom to go after the things you most want?” Helena reached over and placed her hand over her friends as they both looked out across the loch in silence for a moment.

  “I really do care for him, Helena,” Beatrice added finally.

  “Well, this is very obvious. I would argue that you even love him.”

  Beatrice scoffed at Helena’s words but felt herself question whether she might be developing even deeper feelings than first thought.

  “I do enjoy my time with him, and I am glad that things have remained normal after our second affair on Samhain, but,” she paused then. She was enjoying her time with Brodie, that much was obvious. She found herself rushing to his side every free moment he had. And he consistently returned to her at the end of his duties. But in all the being together, she had not a single moment to consider what she wanted to do. She had not wondered how willing she was to change her entire life for the man. How was she to think about all of these potentials when they were so often together.

  “What is it?” Helena pried.

  “It is just since we’ve been together, I was mostly enjoying my time, putting off the decision I will eventually have to make, and I don’t know if I can, Helena. I don’t know how to enjoy what we have now. How do I walk away or not? There is so much at stake, and my time here is almost at an end.”

  “Oh, Bea, you have not had an easy time. I understand why this is all so difficult. But I can only urge you to follow your heart. Let yourself have what you want the most.”

  “If only what I wanted didn’t come at such a cost,” Beatrice sighed. “Well, I cannot let this conversation dwell on me for much longer. How are you, how is the little one developing?”

  “Strongly, it must take after me given all the kicking it’s has been doing! But you know I do not mind one bit speaking about all of this. If anything, it is taking my mind off how large I am growing these days, and how little sleep I will get once the child arrives.”

  The two of them continued talking and spending time together. The sun hung high in the sky, it was time for lunch and Helena insisted they go back to the castle. Beatrice found Brodie waiting for her at the main entrance.

  “Brodie, have you been waiting for me a while?” Beatrice asked. She could not contain her smile as she saw him standing there. As much as she continued trying to resist the attraction, both physical and emotional, she found herself like a moth drawn to his flame.

  “Nay long at all, but I dae have somethin’ tae show ye.” He had a mischevious look on his face, and Beatrice wondered what he was hiding. She felt a stirring within her as she thought back to the night of Samhain, their powerful lovemaking, the bond they shared that only seemed to grow. She had told herself today she would take some time away from him, but found she did not want to.

  “Helena, do you mind?” Beatrice asked.

  “Oh, stop it. You run along and find out what this surprise is. It seems the baby kicking has worn me out, and I am going to lay down for a nap alongside Padraig while I can still sleep easily.”

  Beatrice gave Helena a hug. “Thank you for sitting with me and listening. You’re a wonderful friend and a grand gift in my life.”

  Beatrice turned towards Brodie. He stuck his elbow out for her hand. “Shall we go, then?”

  “Aye lassie, we shall.” Beatrice looped her arm through the open space of his elbow.

  The two of them walked inside the castle, heading slowly up the steps. Brodie was discussing something about the harvest, and a fungus that had spread through one of the crops. Beatrice was amazed by how much he seemed to navigate on a day-to-day basis. He handled so much more around the estate than she could imagine. Even as duchess, she had never handled nearly as much, and she was in awe of his ability to lead so well.

  As they walked, she wondered what it was that he had in store for her. He seemed almost serious, and she squeezed his arm slightly, hoping it was something positive. Well, if it is something negative, at least I won’t be the one to break his heart. Surely the idea of Brodie deciding to end their current state of affairs was better than her having to decide what to do. Yes, it would be much easier.

  Beatrice finally recognized where they were headed: to Brodie’s library. When they arrived, Brodie opened the door slowly. Inside, the room was filled with bouquets of fresh flowers and bushels of fresh herbs. The room smelled like a beautiful garden. In the center was a table set up with a miniature feast. She looked at the platter and saw all of her favorite foods and a plethora of tiny pastries that she favored from the bakery near her estate. There was port and even two mugs of ale.

  “What, what is this?” Beatrice spun around slowly as she took in the sight.

  “I wanted tae treat ye tae a nice lunch, somethin’ special fer us two,” Brodie spoke as a blush spread across his cheeks, and he looked down at his toes. “I thought this a fittin’ place fer it. Dae ye like it?” For someone who was so often looked up to as a leader, he actually seemed a little nervous for once. Beatrice chuckled, and rushed to him, moving her hands to his cheek. He bent to meet her, and she planted a soft kiss on his lips.

  “This is wonderful. I absolutely love it. You brought me pastries from near my home! And ale!”

  “Aye. I had tae wait fer it tae be brought here; it took longer than I had hoped. But I wanted ye tae have many of yer favorite t
hings, all ye’ve told me about.” He moved over to the table and chairs and pulled one out for Beatrice. She followed him and sat in the chair, immediately sipping the ale and closed her eyes as she smiled widely.

  “Yes, this is just as good as I remember.”

  “Ha! I’m mightae glad.” Brodie sat across her and smiled as she savored the drink. He reached over and started filling a plate with a sampling of all he had to offer her.

  “I feel so lucky—all of this for me.” Reaching over, she laid her hand atop Brodie’s. At that moment, she could not recall a time when James had done anything nearly so grand for her. It wasn’t that he didn’t show he cared. He had found his own ways to do it. But often, his work had been so much of a priority that Beatrice found herself feeling second to his duties. To organize such a shipment of treats, was definitely not in his nature.

  But Beatrice had to remind herself that it was not wise to compare the two men. A part of her knew that if she did so, there was much she would overlook in her years of marriage.

  They sat for a moment in silence, and Brodie did not know how to bring up what he hoped to talk about. Beatrice could sense the air shifting around them, and knew this was not exactly a regular lunch. Finally, he spoke.

  “Beatrice, I am varra’ glad ye’ve stayed here, that I found ye after our night at the inn.” He moved his hands to his lap and fumbled with a cloth napkin. Beatrice was mid-bite when he started speaking, and she chewed slowly, taking in the information.

  “Yes, although I was hesitant at first, I am glad that I found you here as well.” It was true…their time together had been wonderful.

  “Aye, I’m glad, lassie. But I must say, I cannae imagine ye leavin.’ Seems we only just got tae be together, just gotten tae ken each other. I dinnae want tae see ye go.” Beatrice had been worried this conversation would come up, with only a week left at the castle before she was meant to return home.

  She measured her words carefully. “It does only seem as though I arrived yesterday.” Brodie waited for her to say more, but she was unable to.

  “I did all this because I wanted tae show ye, just how much I enjoy havin’ ye here. Please, Beatrice, dinnae leave just when we’ve gotten tae ken each other. Dae ye want tae stay? Dae ye want tae be with me, lassie?” Brodie looked up then from his hands at Beatrice. She could see how vulnerable he was at that moment, how much he wanted to hear her answer.

  She opened her mouth to respond, but shut it almost as fast. She wanted to say yes, wanted to stay here longer, to be with him longer, but she could not let go of the guilt. There was no way she could abandon her responsibilities; her home was not this castle, but miles away, and everything she had been living these last three weeks was a fantasy.

  “I, I—” she could not bring herself to answer him.

  “What dae ye want, Beatrice? Tell me and tis yers.” Brodie reached for her hand.

  “I don’t know, Brodie. I have a life, a home. I don’t know what to do. I have enjoyed my time with you, but I don’t know that I can move beyond my husband, leave behind everything I’ve known. I promised I would return to the estate within a month, and I owe it to my workers, to the people there, to return. I have my duties as a duchess.” She pulled her hands away and looked down at her lap. Unable to stand it, he drained his mug; he had hoped for a different response.

  He looked out the window. Beatrice could not stand to see him so somber and feeling flustered, quickly stood.

  “I’m sorry, but I need to be alone.” She hurried from the room. Brodie did not follow her. He had always respected her wishes, and would not stop because he did not like them.

  * * *

  It had been two days since Beatrice had stormed out of the library, and she still had not talked to Brodie. He did not know what to do. He knew she needed space and was determined to give it to her. He hoped, at the end of the week, that she would make the decision to stay longer, but also worried she would not change her mind. He had tried his best to be open but found himself doubting whether it had been the right move, and was starting to think he felt more strongly about her than she did about him.

  Yet Brodie still hoped she would speak to him. It was dinner time, and he, Marcus, Helena, and Beatrice were all set to eat together. There were plans for the three of them to spend some time in one of the common rooms after dinner, playing chess and drinking port. But now that she was set to avoiding him, he did not know if Beatrice would follow through.

  When he walked into the dining room, the atmosphere was tense. Beatrice met his eyes but looked away. He could not tell if it was irritation or a sense of shame. Either way, he was not pleased with the look he received.

  “Hello, Brodie!” Helena said cheerfully. “That is a fine kilt you are wearing. Isn’t it a fine kilt, Beatrice?” Beatrice shot Helena a look before glancing his way.

  After a moment, she spoke softly, “Yes, very fine, indeed.”

  “You look nice, Beatrice,” Brodie offered as he pulled the chair out to sit down. She dropped her fork and fumbled with her napkin.

  “Thank you, Brodie. You too.” Her response felt measured and clinical. Helena and Marcus looked at each other, and Helena rolled her eyes but did not press the matter.

  “Well, shall we eat?” Helena asked the group. There were nods all round, and the waiting staff began bringing in the soup and platters of food. Everyone served themselves and ate in silence. Helena continued to look between Brodie and Beatrice, but every time she wanted to start a conversation, her husband gave her a look that meant “Don’t ye dare,” and even she had to admit this was perhaps a moment when she needed to let them sort their own issues.

  About halfway through the meal, Helena was interrupted by one of their workers with a letter. The woman whispered in her ear, and Helena looked at the letter before glancing at Beatrice. She nodded to the woman who promptly delivered it to Beatrice.

  Inside was Sally’s signature and a brief paragraph.

  “What tis is Beatrice?” Helena asked after Beatrice placed the letter to the side. She folded and unfolded the napkin in her lap.

  “Nothing, merely Frances. It seems there was an incident at the house.” The way she said “incident” showed just how she felt about him and about what had happened.

  Brodie could not contain his curiosity. “Who is Frances? What incident?” Helena watched his face and wondered if it was perhaps a twinge of jealousy at the mention of another man’s name.

  “Frances is James’ cousin. He’s been checking in, and coming for dinner periodically—”

  “And he’s absolutely dreadful,” Helena added, interrupting Beatrice.

  “Well, yes, he is. But he showed up and fainted against the door. Sally did not trust him, as he seemed bloodied and in need of something. She thinks he is up to something. I’m not sure whether I should be there handling this situation. It’s strange, and I don’t know what to make of it.” Beatrice gazed away from the table, deep in thought.

  Around her, everyone continued with their meal. Brodie continued watching as her gaze drifted deeper and deeper. She only picked at the food. He could tell she was at war with her thoughts.

  Beatrice worried about Frances and what it was he wanted. She could sense there was something strange about the encounter, as did Sally, but she couldn’t tell bothered her about it. She was overwhelmed with guilt. How could she have taken so much time away from the estate? A week would have been acceptable. But what were people going to say now that she was away for almost a month? She should not have stepped away from her duties so easily. She needed to be honest with Brodie and tell him that it simply wasn’t time for her to pursue her feelings. She had responsibilities to attend to, even if she desperately wished to turn away from them.

  Beatrice stood from the table. “Thank you for the lovely meal. I must retire to my room for a short while.”

  A few moments after she left, Brodie stood to go and check on her. He had vowed to give her space, but it was clear there was
something she needed to talk about. He could tell by the way worry creased her forehead, and he managed to catch her just before she started up the stairs.

  “Beatrice, are ye alrigh’?” He reached out and grabbed her hand, and she stopped and looked at him with tears welling in her eyes. She dabbed at the corner.

  “Yes, I am fine, thank you.”

  “Aye, lassie, come ‘ere, I can see clearly yer not fine.” He pulled her towards him, and Beatrice leaned into his broad chest, letting the tears stream down her face.

  “I’m sorry, Brodie. I want to stay, to spend more time with you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I need to leave when I originally intended. There is too much waiting for me at home. I have responsibilities to uphold.” She wiped her eyes and pulled away from him. “I have enjoyed my time with you, but I am not a young maiden free to explore these feelings. I am a duchess.” She crossed her arms, firm in her decision.