Highlander’s Flaming Secret (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance)

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Highlander’s Flaming Secret (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 11

by Adamina Young


  Broden was entirely despondent as his efforts had ended in failure. He looked mournfully at Iona, knowing that he had let her down as well. He and the other Highlanders were sat in a circle with arrows pointed at their heads. One wrong move and they would all be killed, although that fate might have been theirs anyway as the bandits were currently debating whether they should just kill the Highlanders or seek to ransom them for money.

  “Ye will never get away with this,” Broden warned.

  “And who is gaeing tae stop me? Everyone is tae scared tae came tae the forest,” Brice said smugly.

  But then in the distance was the sound of rumbling thunder. It took everyone by surprise because the sky was clear and there was no sign of a storm at all. Then, arrows darted through the trees and struck about five bandits down. Chaos suddenly gripped the bandits’ camp as horses emerged from the forest. Their coats were as black as night and riding them were dozens of warriors, led by Artair.

  Broden was delighted to see his father riding into battle, looking as mighty as he had in his youth. He carried with him a great weapon and drove it into the heads of his enemies. He roared loudly as he got revenge from the initial attack and circled around, crashing through the bandits’ tents and belongings, as well as their bodies. More arrows flew through the air and the bandits dispersed, for they were all cowards.

  “After them! Leave nobody alive,” Artair roared. Broden and the others were freed and he made a direct line to Brice, who was so shocked at the turn of events he was utterly paralyzed. Broden grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him to the ground before he rushed over to Iona. She flung her arms around him and he could feel her shaking.

  “Oh Broden, I’m sae sorry. I was sae scared.”

  “It’s alright lass, everything is fine now,” he said. A shadow loomed over them. It was Artair.

  “Da, I’d like ye tae meet Iona,” he said.

  “I have heard a lot about ye,” Artair said. “A fine lass Broden, a fine lass indeed.”

  “What are ye daeing here Da? I thought ye didnae want me tae come here?”

  Artair threw his head back and laughed. “That was a test lad! I was waiting tae see if ye would dae what ye thought was right rather than what I told ye. Ye are ye own man now, and I know that ye are ready tae lead the clan.”

  “Tae lead? But Da, even though ye are wounded ye are still the Laird.”

  Artair groaned as he alighted from his horse. “In truth I have enjoyed these past days, daeing naething but spending time drinking and feasting. I think it’s time I passed on the mantle tae ye Broden, and I can enjoy the last years of my life.”

  “Thank ye Da,” Broden said solemnly. He turned to Iona and smiled widely. Artair then turned to Brice.

  “This is the bandit that has caused us sae much trouble,” Artair said.

  “I’m nae bandit! I’m the heir to the Hendrickson estate and ye will treat me with the respect I deserve!” Brice said.

  “Aye, ye deserve nae more respect than a worm,” Artair spat. “Broden, ye’re right. We cannae let him gae. We need tae make an example of him sae I have one last test for ye. A duel, between him and ye, but with a twist. Ye have nae weapons. He gets a knife. Show him the true meaning of a warrior; that it is nae the weapons ye carry, but the strength in ye heart,” Artair said, taking out his knife and handing it to Brice.

  “What? This cannae happen!” Iona cried fretfully. Broden shook his head.

  “Da, what dae ye mean by this?” Broden asked. “Ye just said that ye trust me tae be a Laird.”

  “Oh aye, in the grand scheme of things ye would make a good Laird, but I cannae forget that I had tae save ye. Now prove ye can take care of yeself. Fight!”

  The Highlanders had just about rounded up all the other bandits and they formed a circle in which Broden and Brice dueled. Brice held his knife in his right hand, eager to get this over with. Broden stretched his muscles and then strode forward, trying not to show any fear whatsoever, but inside his stomach was churning. In a fist fight Broden would have been supremely confident that he would emerge victorious, but Brice had a knife. All it would take was one misjudgment and the blade would slice through his skin and everything he’d worked so hard for would slip away. There would be no Iona, no Laird Broden, no future at all.

  But he couldn’t refuse or back away from the duel. If he did, he would be a coward, and he wasn’t about to bring such dishonor to himself, his family, or Iona. He could see how worried she was, standing with her hand clasped around her mouth.

  Brice had a smug smile on his face, confident of his chances since he had a knife and Broden didn’t. Sunlight gleamed as it hit the blade, and Broden tried to swallow his fear. Artair watched him with an inscrutable gaze. He was a hard man. Broden doubted that any other father would put his son through this, but Artair wasn’t any other father, and Broden wasn’t any other man.

  It was one last fight to get everything he wanted. Only Brice and a knife were standing in his way.

  Brice slashed wildly with the knife, but it only hit air as Broden evaded the blow and stepped to the side. It was too close for comfort. The metal grazed his skin and pain bloomed. He hit Brice with a right hook. There was such force in the punch that Broden thought he might have knocked a couple of teeth out. In pain, Brice roared and flailed his arms wildly. The knife cut Broden’s tunic and he felt the blade run against his flesh. He caught Brice’s wrist and kicked him in the stomach, before jabbing an elbow into the back of Brice’s neck. Brice went flying and staggered back, wanting to put some distance between himself and Broden. He shook the stupor from his mind and refocused himself, holding the knife in a different position. This time he came forward more carefully and jabbed with the knife rather than slashing, trying to pierce the flesh directly. Broden had to arch his back to avoid being hit, which made it more difficult to hit Brice.

  The two men danced around in their duel. Broden waited patiently for his opportunity. His fists were clenched and he watched Brice carefully, taking note of the way he moved, of the tells he displayed before he jerked forward with the knife, and then put the full force of his weight into one mighty punch that crashed into the side of Brice’s head. As Brice fell to the ground he reached out and dragged the knife down with him. The point sliced Broden’s leg and made him wince in pain, but the duel was over.

  Broden fell to one knee, planting it on Brice’s arm. He wrested the knife out of Brice’s grip and held it aloft, ready to strike the killing blow and put an end to the man’s crimes once and for all. But then he looked up and saw Iona looking at him. He thought of how much her family meant to her, and to her father. He remembered what she said about wanting to belong to something bigger than herself and how she wanted to maintain the legacy. Broden knew that if he killed Brice, Ciaran would never forgive him and it would make marrying Iona impossible.

  So he threw the knife away.

  “I’m nae gaeing tae kill him. He needs tae learn that what he did was wrong. Let’s take him back with us. We can throw him in jail like a common criminal, because that’s what he is,” Broden said.

  “If that’s ye decision, Laird MacCrae,” Artair said with a knowing smile. Broden grinned, and then handed the prisoner off to another Highlander.

  15

  “Sae that’s where Brice is now. I respect ye, but I cannae let a man like him wander the wilderness,” Broden said. Iona was sitting beside him. Ciaran was finally out of bed and had recovered some of his color, but he wasn’t quite looking his best yet. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long until that was the case. Iona had been struggling to cope with everything that happened over the past few days. Being held hostage by the bandits, and her brother no less, was something that she didn’t want to repeat any time soon and it was clear there was no redemption for him, as difficult as that was to admit.

  “Aye, I have been thinking on the matter and it is clear tae me now that I was somewhat misguided in the estimation of my son’s behavior. After h
earing the full extent of what he and the bandits were up tae I am ashamed. I already sent out messengers sae that anyone whose property has been destroyed can come tae me for recompense. It is gaeing tae take a long time tae repair the damage Brice has caused, nae only financially, but also tae our name.”

  “Ye are a good man Ciaran. I’m sure ye can dae what must be done,” Broden said. “There is just one last matter I would like tae attend tae.” He looked proudly at Iona. “I would like tae request the hand of ye daughter in marriage. I promise tae make her happy and keep her safe. Naething would give me a greater honor than tae be Iona’s husband.”

  Iona let out a soft squeal of excitement.

  “And it would be my honor to join our two families, Laird MacCrae,” Ciaran said. Just like that the matter was resolved. Broden went over to clasp Ciaran’s hand, and then embrace Freya, who offered him a warm smile, for she was ever so grateful that he had rescued her daughter. Broden turned back to Iona and fell to one knee, taking her hand in his.

  “Then all that’s left is for ye tae agree. Will ye be my wife Iona?” he asked simply, but his words were filled with earnest emotion and they made her insides feel like honey.

  “Hmm, let me think on it for a while,” she teased, and then burst out laughing, accepting joyfully.

  The wedding was a huge affair. Ciaran and the rest of his family, along with help from Broden, had done a lot to repair their fractured relationship with the rest of the land. Malie had put in a lot of hard work too. The fact that her actions had led to Iona being put in harm’s way had affected her deeply and she had made it clear to Iona that nothing like that would ever happen again. As she put it herself, it was time for her to grow up. More people were coming into the estate, whether to search for work or recompense, and thus she was introduced to a number of different people. One such was a humble blacksmith named Owen Morgan, who had been robbed. Upon arrival at the estate he was rather angry, but Malie had managed to calm his anger and the two of them had been inseparable ever since. Iona was glad to see that Malie was happy.

  Ciaran was trying his best, but it was difficult to get over Brice’s actions. Ciaran did visit Brice in prison a number of times, but he never told anyone what he spoke about, not even Freya. Iona hoped at some point Brice would feel remorse for what he had done and try to engage in life once again, but part of her worried that he was too far gone.

  She wasn’t about to let that ruin her enjoyment though, especially not her wedding day. Malie and Freya were by her side on the altar as she stood in a shimmering white gown. The sun shone on her and she looked resplendent. As she stood there with Broden and they recited their vows, she looked into his eyes and saw the future. It was all there, laid out in a golden hue, a future where the two of them could have everything they wanted. Iona finally felt as though she belonged in the Highlands. Now that she was married to a MacCrae people never dared suggest that she should return to her Scandinavian roots, and the story of her bravery was one passed from woman to woman as an example of what to emulate. She had plenty of little girls coming up to her asking her about her ordeal in Crow Forest, and she was always happy to oblige in the tale, because they went away feeling inspired.

  After the ceremony there was much feasting and drinking. Iona had never seen so many people and she was humbled by the fact that they were all there for her. Sandi had left her isolation to come for the day as well, and it was a lovely reunion between her and Freya. There were speeches made, some of which were more slurred than others, and it was an entirely happy and joyous occasion. In fact, it seemed as though all their sorrows were behind them and nothing was ever going to trouble them again.

  Late in the night, Iona and Broden slipped away from the festivities to retreat to a place where they could be alone and enjoy some time together on their own wedding day. It had been a blur and they were glad to leave the crowd behind. The sounds of the feast faded in the distance, and when they were together Iona collapsed into his arms, feeling as though it was where she belonged.

  “I have tae admit that I cannae be completely upset with Brice. If it were nae for him we would nae have met, and I cannae imagine my life without ye,” she said.

  “Aye, neither can I lass.”

  “Since we’re wed now, can I ask ye a question? It’s something I’ve wanted tae ask ye for a while, but I didn’t think ye wanted tae speak about it,” Iona asked. They settled into bed, lying down together. He wrapped his arms around her and rested one of them on her waist. The other gently stroked her shoulder. She nestled into him. Her silver-blonde hair splayed over his chest and she felt the comforting rise and fall of his steady breathing. She breathed in his masculine scent and it intoxicated her far more than any wine had.

  “Of course lass, ye know ye can ask me anything.”

  “It’s about that day when ye rescued me from the bandits. In the duel with Brice. Ye could have killed him. In fact I think that’s what Artair wanted ye tae dae. Why dinnae ye?”

  Broden pressed his lips together before he answered.

  “Ye’re right, that’s what Da would have done. And, in truth, it’s what I wanted tae dae as well. But then I looked at ye and I remembered everything ye had said tae me about ye family. I couldnae kill him with that in mind. I knew ye da would never be able tae forgive me, and ye could never look at me again without seeing the man who killed yer brother.”

  “I know I asked ye tae show mercy, but I never thought ye actually would.”

  “Dinnae get me wrong lass.” He tilted his head down so that he could look at her properly. “I dinnae dae it for him. I did it for ye, for us. If I killed him I would never have been able tae marry ye, and I was nae about tae let that happen. I would dae anything for ye Iona, even let a criminal live.”

  He looked deeply into her eyes and she was entranced by the strength of his love. She thought of the vows they had made together, not just on that day, but from the first moment they had met. She thought of the desires and sensations that had swirled through her mind and made her feel lighter than air. She remembered their kisses and how they had opened up her body and soul to new feelings and new passions. Her body had made a tacit agreement that it was his, and now they had to wait no longer. They had to worry no more. They were husband and wife, and she was determined to be the best wife she could ever be.

  He placed a hand underneath her chin and whispered that he loved her. Before she could reply his warm breath swam over her lips and she was engulfed in a kiss once again. Her body melted into his arms. A low murmur escaped the corner of her lips as his hands began to explore her body. She giggled at first, for she was ever so ticklish, but gradually she got used to the feeling of his hands upon her. His strong grip ran over her pale, supple skin, pulling away her clothes, exposing her white flesh. She gasped when he ran his fingers over secret sweet spots, and he seemed to take great delight in teasing her.

  She arched her neck back and offered the hollow of her throat to him as he planted kisses all down her neck and shoulders, delving into the valley between her breasts. Pleasure rippled all over her and she groaned with delight as his hands moved deeper into the heat of her femininity, and then sharp moans burst out of her. Heat spread through her body and filled every part of her, right to the tips of her toes and fingers, but it was all centered on that core of her being, where life flowed and love bloomed and desire had its home.

  Iona’s nerves were seared away by the heat of Broden’s lust. Any doubt or insecurity she had was rendered inert because she could feel how irresistible she was to him, how he couldn’t keep his hands off her. In that moment she was his entire world, and he was hers. Moonlight shone in through the window and cast their bed in a pleasant glow. Their bodies writhed as Iona grew brave enough to explore. Her dainty hands ran along the sculpted curves of his muscles and through his thick chest hair, moving down across his flat stomach where the hair thinned into a narrow line, leading down to his own heat, a heat that almost scared her, but that when s
he touched it filled her with a desire like no other.

  He groaned and grunted as she began to pleasure him, and suddenly she became aware of the power of a woman, the power to render such a strong man at her mercy, and she took great delight in this. Meanwhile, Broden’s hands continued their journey, sliding against her, exploring every inch of her, making her vulnerable and excited and thrilled at the same time. So many different sensations crashed through her body. Breathless, she turned her head this way and that and eventually lost all sense of self as she was so overwhelmed with the nature of an orgasm that her hands left him and fell by her side.

  A smile played upon her lips as the feelings rushed through her, but they had not entirely gone. She found herself wrapped in his arms with a firm kiss planted on her mouth and then suddenly his hot and heavy weight was upon her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and then a whole new feeling gripped her; a feeling of completeness, of union.

  It became impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. The air swirled and simmered with hot lust and pure love. Broden thrust deep and rhythmically. Their bodies created a wonderful harmony together and the song they made was the most beautiful song since the dawn of time. Anguished moans passed between them as they pressed their foreheads together. Broden cradled her body lovingly, although his strength and passion was such that she wasn’t entirely sure how much she could handle. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she groaned and moaned loudly, enjoying how his grunts made hot air ripple against her neck and ear.

  Broden’s rhythm increased until his entire body shuddered, just as hers had a number of times now, and then a glorious heat swept through her as he released himself. She clung to his sweaty, glistening body and knew the heady feelings of love. In their breathless state they kissed each other tenderly and held onto each other as their chests heaved and they let the afterglow of love die down. It was better than Iona had ever imagined, and she laughed.

 

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