* * *
Davina had haunted Fergus ever since.
He’d seen her outside the abbey a few days later, and she’d waved to him, but that had been their only other encounter. How he would like to talk with her, spend time with her…
If nothing else, he wished to help her. Kyla Grant had explained everything the woman had been forced to deal with in her short life. The lass had been promised to Simon de La Porte, and her child’s father was the most renowned villain in the land of the Scots in the last decade.
Fergus had gone back to the abbey not long after, hoping to properly speak with Davina and, if all went well, express his intention to court her, but she was already gone. His other trips to Buchan and Cameron land had been spent searching for her. Now, against the odds, he’d found her.
He often felt as though his dear mother watched him from above, and something told him she had brought him here—to this place where he could finally speak with her and make his case.
After Loki left, Fergus headed toward the ravine. Would she accept his courtship?
His hands turned clammy despite the cold weather, and his heart pounded hard enough to climb up his throat. Still, he persevered and knocked on the door.
When it opened, he looked straight into the eyes of one of the most beautiful women in all the Highlands. He cleared his throat and plunged forward.
“Greetings, Davina.”
Chapter Seven
Davina Buchan stared at the red-headed man in the door of her small cottage. He looked vaguely familiar, and his plaid declared him a Grant. This man was much larger than Ranulf, and something about him struck her. It took her a moment to realize what it was.
This was the man who’d saved her when she’d run to the abbey. He’d killed two men in her defense and then escorted her to her temporary home at the abbey. The biggest surprise was that he hadn’t tried anything inappropriate, something quite rare. Her sire should have protected her from such gropings, but once she turned ten and six, he’d declared it her duty to the clan to please important men.
Fergus had also been kind to Raina, his touch gentle and soothing. Now, as he stood on her doorstep staring at her, she noticed something new about him. Something she hadn’t noticed at the abbey.
His eyes.
His eyes were the oddest shade of green with blue flecks in them. The day in the forest had been overcast, so she’d not noticed them. They were beautiful, and the most beautiful part about them was how they reached for her soul, pulling her toward him slowly. They so mesmerized her that she realized she’d been walking toward him without realizing it. Reflexively, she took a step back, hugging her sleeping daughter closer to her chest.
“Nay, please don’t walk away.”
She had no idea what to say to this man, or why he’d come looking for her. She’d vowed never to have anything to do with another man again. Her own father had offered her up like a decadent sweet to different men of his choosing. She’d only loved one of them, but Ranulf MacNiven, father to her dear daughter, had gone mad. After the battle at her father’s keep, she’d found her way to Lochluin Abbey and hidden there for a short time. She’d met Bor there, and he offered her this cottage, no exchanges needed, other than to assist Bestla if she requested it.
“I’ve been searching for you everywhere, Davina. I don’t know if you recall our brief encounter in the woods outside Lochluin Abbey, but ever since then, I’ve hoped to talk with you again and to see how you and your daughter have fared. Please don’t shut me out. Give me a chance.”
“A chance for what?” If he even thought to mention the word coupling, she’d slice his manhood off for sure.
“A chance to get to know you better. I seek the chance to earn your trust. I…I know what your father expected of you, so I cannot imagine how difficult your life has been. Mayhap we would suit. I could offer you a better life than your sire gave you.”
Her gasp couldn’t be controlled. How her own father had treated her was one of the most shameful parts of her life, and this man clearly knew the truth.
“Do not be embarrassed. ‘Tis not your fault. Your sire bears the shame of your treatment, not you.”
“My sire is dead, as is my daughter’s sire, Ranulf.” The death of her father caused her no pain, but the loss of Ranulf still hurt, though his true soul had died long before the blood stopped flowing through his heart. In the end, he’d been consumed by greed and ambition.
She’d sworn off missing both of them many moons ago. Ranulf had given her this babe in her arms, and that was enough.
Nay, she did not need a man in her life to use her, to hurt her, to suck the life from her again.
As if reading her thoughts, Fergus said, “I would never hurt you or raise a hand to you. My sire raised me to treat women kindly. On the honor of my mother’s dear life, which was lost a short time ago, I swear never to physically hurt you. I cannot truthfully say I’d never hurt your feelings, for it may happen unwittingly, but I’d like to try.”
“And what could you possibly do for me? I don’t need a lover.” The tears that slid down her cheek couldn’t be stopped.
“One thing. Give me the chance to do one nice thing for you, and I’ll take my leave if you still wish it.”
“What?” Her steely reserve suddenly softened, if only a touch. No matter how hard she fought, loneliness still crept in to cause an ache in her heart on occasion. She couldn’t help but remember the connection Kyla and Finlay had shared…how deeply they loved each other. Sometimes she wished she could have that for herself, but she feared it was not meant to be.
“I’d wipe the tears from your cheeks if you’d allow me that simple pleasure.”
She set her sleeping daughter down in the cradle. When she stood up again, she nodded to him. “You have less than a minute.”
He strode over to her and reached for her cheek, but her instincts took over and she flinched.
“Nay, you never need to fear my touch,” he whispered. “Please?”
She leaned toward him again and his hand came up to settle on her cheek, his thumb wiping the tear before it fell. It was the softest caress she’d ever felt in her life. She recalled their short encounter. This was the man who’d asked before touching her, who hadn’t taken advantage of her when she sat ahorse in front of him. He’d been polite and kind, expecting nothing in return.
Their chance meeting had given her hope when she needed it most.
Her stalwart reserve crumbled and she fell forward, her head landing on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and she sobbed. She cried uncontrollably for almost half an hour and the most surprising thing happened.
Fergus held her the entire time.
* * *
Once Loki and the others arrived in Edinburgh, they left their horses at the stables in town so they could walk to the marketplace. Kenzie’s questions began as soon as they started down the path. “What are you here to buy, Father Bor? Do you come here often, Father Bor? Who is your favorite vendor?”
Bor chuckled before he replied, “One question at a time, lad. I come here a few times a year for supplies we may need. I’m always searching for wee lost souls, but I don’t always find them. This time of year, I come for gifts.”
“Gifts?”
“Gifts for the wee ones. The winter solstice is almost upon us, is it not? Do you exchange gifts in your home?”
Kenzie glanced up at his sire. “Nay. Do you?”
“I do. I bring the wee ones gifts each year. It helps them forget their losses, if only for a little while. They look forward to it every year, and sometimes their excitement starts a full moon before the solstice is upon us.”
Loki asked, “Where were you born, Bor? Is this something you did at home? Are your parents from a faraway land? I’ve not heard of this sort of celebration before, only the English festivities. My aunt celebrates Christmas like they do.”
“I’m not sure I can answer that question. I’ve spent time with many differ
ent people of varied backgrounds. The Norse love their solstice, and they make merry every year, though they celebrate for at least a fortnight, sometimes more. The English also love to adorn their homes with greens and decorations at this time of year.”
“Aye, my aunt Maddie does the same!” Kenzie piped up. “You should see her hall. ‘Tis beautiful and smells so sweet. She has pines and greens and red ribbons everywhere. They have a festive table full of every meat pie and sweet tart possible.”
Loki grinned at him, remembering the lad’s comment about not knowing how to repay those he loved.
Bor asked, “So if you love that gift she gives you every year, then why not find a gift for her and bring it to her?” he asked. “In fact, Aunt Maddie sounds just like the person to help you understand the gifts your grandmama told you about. Why do you think she holds the feast every year?”
“For Uncle Alex. He’s big and eats more than anyone.”
“Is he the only one, do you think?” Loki asked.
Bor smirked. “Even I can answer that one, Kenzie. And I do not live with you. Are there other people in her family?”
The confused expression on Kenzie’s face indicated he didn’t follow their meaning.
Loki looked at him with a small smirk. “To start, Jake, Jamie, Kyla, Elizabeth, and Maeve. Is the feast not for them, too?”
“Och, and Aline and Gracie and Finlay,” Kenzie added, a bit of understanding showing on his face.
“Who are they?” Father Bor asked.
“Uncle Alex and Aunt Maddie’s children and their spouses,” Loki replied. “Can you not think of anyone else?”
Kenzie’s brow furrowed again. “Aline’s other sister?”
“Aye, and what about you?”
He laughed in delight. “‘Tis true. Aunt Maddie loves to cook for us, too.”
“Ashlyn?”
“Aye.”
“Robbie and Grandpapa?” Loki asked.
“Aye.”
“Caralyn and Grandmama?” Loki asked.
“Aye.”
Father Bor said, “Are you understanding their meaning yet, lad?”
“Nay.” He paused for a moment, his forehead scrunched with thought, and said, “Aunt Maddie cooks for everyone, I suppose. I mean, she does not do all the cooking because the Grants have the best cook of all, but she helps and plans the meals. But is that not what she’s supposed to do? My first mama cooked when Papa worked the land. ‘Twas what they were supposed to do.”
“Who is the most revered on Grant land?”
Kenzie gasped. “Aunt Maddie!”
“So? What does that make you think? And remember what Grandmama told you,” Bor said.
“That everyone loves Maddie because of all she does at the winter solstice?”
“And all year long,” Loki added. “She does it out of love. Why do you think your papa worked the land and your mother cooked?”
His eyes lit up. “Because they loved me?”
Loki nodded. “And each other.”
Bor said, “Maddie should get gifts and affection from everyone because she does things for everyone, Kenzie. Do you see?”
“Because she gives so much, everyone loves her more?” Kenzie asked, a perplexed expression on his face.
“Exactly.”
“Then I know what I must do. Papa, I must buy a gift for everyone.”
Loki and Bor exchanged knowing glances. “Great idea. And why?”
“So they won’t give me away.”
Loki groaned.
“Is that not right, Papa? Am I wrong again?”
“Nay, we’ll find something for whomever you like.” He tipped his head toward Bor. “And hope he’ll understand it when he gets home.”
“He’s a smart lad. He’ll decipher our meaning. I think he’s still a wee bit nervous about being left behind.” Bor chuckled and moved over to the first stall full of chestnuts. “Here’s something I love to bring to the wee ones. The older ones help the younger ones dig the sweet meat out of the shells.”
“Uncle Brodie and Uncle Robbie love those,” Loki said. “We better get a dozen or so.”
They exchanged coin for the chestnuts and moved down to the next stall full of woolen goods. “Papa,” Kenzie said, looking at him with wide eyes, “I wish to get Mama a warm pair of stockings. Verra thick ones. She says her feet are often cold. Remember how she likes to sit by the fire on cold nights?”
“I think ‘tis a great idea. Which ones would you like?”
Their group traveled from stall to stall, Kenzie enjoying selecting presents for each person he could think of. By the time they were ready to leave, they had two sacks full of gifts. They had collected food items, ribbons, a couple of daggers, special fragrant oils for Grandmama, dried flowers, and some special spices and herbs, but Loki’s favorite gift by far was the tapestry Kenzie had found.
“Does it not look just like Grant Castle, Papa? Uncle Alex and Aunt Maddie will love it.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
It took them several hours to move through the conglomeration of vendors, and at the end of the evening, they found an inn where they could seek some repast and spend the night.
Loki found a chamber with two beds and Bor found his own accommodation. They enjoyed a thick mutton stew before they settled in for the night.
In the middle of the night, Loki awakened to a small face directly in front of his. “Papa, are you awake?”
“Yes, I am now.” He couldn’t wait until something put a stop to these endless dreams.
“I think we should take her home.”
“What?”
“Ami, Amice. I think we should take her home with us. She could be a friend to the new bairn if it’s a lassie. She truly favors me, and I think she’ll be upset when we leave. I…I’m worried something will happen to her, Papa.”
“I’ll consider it. Can we decide on the morrow, Kenzie?” Sleep, he just needed some sleep. Everything would be clearer in the morning.
Kenzie lowered a voice to a deep whisper. “Papa, Father Bor is verra nice, but he’s not a mama and Bestla’s too busy. Ami needs a mama like mine. You know Grandmama will help Mama take care of her. Please?”
Loki sighed. “We’ll talk in the morn. Go to sleep.”
In truth, the same thought had occurred to him. He hoped Bella would welcome Ami into their home.
Chapter Eight
Fergus inhaled Davina’s sweet aroma as he held her. Her head was tucked neatly under his chin, and her curves fit him just right. How could he make her believe that they deserved a chance at happiness? How could he help her overcome the wounds of the past?
He’d asked Jake Grant about his wife Aline, who’d been abused by a bastard. Not wanting to reveal his intentions, he’d simply made a comment about how difficult it must have been to handle such a situation.
Jake, not usually a talkative man, had given him only one word—slowly.
So he vowed to take the same approach. He’d hold her forever if she wished for it.
She shoved at his chest and stepped back. “Leave me be. Forgive my weak moment, but I don’t need a man in my life.”
“I will do as you wish.” He stepped back and put his hands behind his back in a totally non-threatening stance. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Nay. Go. I allowed you your one request.” She glanced up at him, but wouldn't meet his eyes. “I’ll thank you for holding me and allowing me my moment of weakness.”
“Forgive me for disagreeing, but crying is not a weakness. You have every right to feel emotional. I expected to still find you at Lochluin Abbey. Why did you leave?”
“I didn’t exactly have the same view of life as the nuns. My entire existence is for my daughter, and I will do anything for her. I was grateful they took us in when Raina and I needed it most, but I could not stay there forever.” Her gaze drifted away from him.
He wondered what her thoughts were. What did she think of her living conditions
? She lived in a small cottage with a dirt floor, covered with old rushes, a musty smell permeating everything. It was uncluttered, illustrating that she had few belongings. An old kettle hung over the hearth with something simmering inside, but there was little aroma to tempt him. The wood bin next to the hearth was empty.
The cottage had one table with two chairs, a small bed in the corner with a few furs and a threadbare plaid. The only other item was the cradle, where her daughter still slept under a fox fur. Davina wore a shabby silk dress, one that had probably been regal before it was stained and wrinkled by her hard life.
She was the only daughter of the once-mighty Glenn of Buchan. The man’s ambition had twisted his mind and ruined his family, and now his only daughter wore rags and her glossy hair was plaited away from her face.
She was still as beautiful as ever to Fergus.
“Please just go.” She didn’t look at him as she said it. Rather, the words were whispered at the far wall.
Not knowing what else to do, he bowed to her and took his leave. She never said another word, allowing him to walk out of her life.
His worst fear had just happened. He had finally found her, but he’d failed to move her. He’d failed to persuade her that they could live a good life together, that they should be given a chance for happiness. Once outside the cottage, he thought of the empty bin by the hearth. True, Bor probably would send some lads down to cut wood for her, but then he was perfectly capable, wasn’t he?
Would she turn him away for cutting wood?
He decided to do it anyway. He walked to the rear of the cabin, found an axe, and searched for the best tree to drop.
* * *
Davina let a breath out as soon as the door closed. Fergus MacNicol didn’t realize how much she wished for him to stay. In her dreams, a man loved her, cherished her, and adored her daughter. After meeting Fergus at the abbey, her knight had come to her with red hair. He would be a wonderful father, and a protector. He’d keep the men with wandering hands and expectant gazes away from her. He’d love her for who she was and not for the size of her breasts and what lay between her legs.
Loki's Christmas Story Page 5