Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 3)

by Allie Palomino

  “Are ye all right?”

  The rain forced him to practically yell.

  She gave no response, but continued to scream while rocking back and forth.

  He laid his right hand on her shoulder as his other hand lifted up her chin. Her glossy green eyes slowly focused on his face.

  “What is yer name, lass?”

  The leader’s serious gray eyes touched all points of her bloodied face as he studied her. His black hair was pulled behind his head. His thumb brushed over her swollen, cracked lips.

  Abby’s screams stopped. Her head tilted to one side as she curiously stared at him. Her blond hair was plastered against her head by the onslaught of the unforgiving rain.

  He pointed to himself and said, “My name is Cameron. What is yer name?”

  Her green eyes narrowed more closely. At one time they must have been vibrant, he thought to himself. Now, they looked lifeless. A battle was no place for a woman. That notion rang truer the longer she vacantly stared at him. The rain continued to wash down their faces.

  Cameron took out a small piece of red plaid that was hidden on his person, and with the edge, he began wiping her face. She saw the color and began to scream again, pulling back. He noticed and let go of the plaid. bringing her into his arms.

  “It’s all right. We willna harm ye,” he said over the rain, rocking her gently.

  Something within him knotted up at seeing her distressed state. He felt an odd connection to her. Cameron pulled back.

  “My name is Cameron,” he said again, pointing to himself. The falling rain slowed to a light drizzle.

  “What is yer name?”

  Droplets were still beading on his face. Water ran down his mouth, and off his chin.

  “A-Abby,” she replied awkwardly. It was as if she was surprised to hear her own voice.

  She was in shock and said her name slowly, as if it was difficult to remember. She looked down at his hands as they tried to pry the knife out of her solid grip. She shook her head and sobbed. Her beseeching stare turned hard and hopeless. It was a purely animalistic stare. She wasn’t rational at the moment, he knew. He let her keep the knife and she looked away.

  Cameron’s hand gently glided down the side of her head as she stared off into nothing. Her eyes slowly came back to his for a moment of surprise, and then returned to staring into nothing.

  “English guards are coming this way, Cameron. We must leave,” one of his clansmen said.

  Abby slowly rocked herself again, not noticing them anymore. He looked down at her, while shouting, “Are they her kinsmen?”

  “One of the guards managed to escape when the battle began, and he rides with them. I’m guessing they willna harm her.”

  Cameron nodded and tried to turn her face towards his. After failing the first two times, he was successful on his third attempt.

  “Yer family’s guard is coming. Ye will be safe. I will remain beyond those bushes and make certain that ye will be well.” He paused for a moment, and repeated himself certain that she was not understanding anything of what he was saying.

  “Ye will be safe.”

  Her eyes were glossy and unfocused, as if she did not see him. He knew then that she was compromised of mind since she was unresponsive. He hoped that this incident would not permanently damage her mind.

  He would never know how the lass would fare, however. He had to retreat with his men.

  “Cameron, we must leave,” his clansman insisted.

  Cameron ripped off a long piece of his green hunting plaid and gave it to her.

  “Keep this. If ye feel threatened, wave it and I will return,” he said slowly. “D’ye understand?”

  Cameron placed the piece of plaid in her hand and closed it.

  “Cameron,” his man said in a warning tone.

  Cameron passed his hand over the side of her face again and stood. “The lass is young for such horrors,” he said, looking down at her.

  Abby continued to rock herself, clutching the bloodied knife to her chest in one hand and the piece of plaid in the other. Then she began humming.

  Cameron and two of his clansmen hid in the bushes as the guards came forward. Though they witnessed what was before them, they were too far to hear what was being said.

  “My Lord! Lady Abigail? Are you all right?” The leader looked over his shoulder when another yelled for his attention.

  “Oh, Lord Elliot has been slain!” one guard said when he saw the body.

  Abby continued to rock herself and hum.

  “Lady Abigail?”

  “She’s not well, sir. She is not responding,” another said.

  “There was a massacre here.” The leader turned his head. “Look! MacPherson plaid. They’re responsible. They must have heard of milady’s marriage. We must return to Baron Haynsworth.”

  The soldier tried to pry the knife from her bloodied hands and she began to scream.

  “Leave it to her! Let her have it,” the leader said to the soldier. Abby quieted down as they let go of her hands. She began rocking herself and humming again. The leader bent down, picked her up, and carried her. Abby erupted in a fit of screams.

  The clansmen held Cameron back. He looked over to them and they shook their heads. Cameron backed down, but the movement caught Abby’s eye. She turned her head towards him and when Abby saw him, she immediately stopped screaming. Recognition briefly dawned in her eyes.

  “What is the matter with her?” one guard asked when she quieted.

  “You need not comment upon it. We must bring her back to the holding quickly and ‘tis best without her screaming,” the leader said as he carried her.

  Her eyes remained focused on Cameron. The leader handed her to another guard who was already mounted on a horse. Abby’s eyes remained trained on Cameron all the while, even when the horse began moving forward.

  Her world had changed forever. As they faded into the quiet darkness, so did her mind.

  Cameron saw her fall in a dead faint in the guard’s arms.

  Chapter One

  Dìleas Neart Castle, Scotland 1223

  “Damn it!” Cameron cursed, slamming his hand against the table. He threw the missive down.

  “What does it say, Cameron?” Keith, his first-in-command and brother, asked.

  “Alexander. He is refusing my request. He insists that after having married Joan, Henry’s sister, he now wants to bestow the honor of marrying an English bride on to me.” His mouth twisted.

  “He continues to want ye to marry an Englishwoman?” Aidan asked. He was the youngest brother, and second-in-command.

  “Aye, that he does.” Cameron sighed heavily. “I have supported Alexander on many occasions. We aided him in his mission to quell the revolts after his accession and after he aided the English barons against King John. I remained loyal throughout that trying time. This clan remained loyal to him. That loyalty extended again when he ordered the hands and feet of men amputated after the death of Bishop Adam of Caithness.”

  Alexander II began religious institutions throughout Scotland. He ordered the amputation of the hands and feet of those men who witnessed the death of Bishop Adam of Caithness.

  Cameron paused and the muscle at his jaw throbbed.

  “This directive, however, is unacceptable. I responded after the first missive and told him of my unwillingness to enter into such a distasteful marriage. He overruled my refusal and vehemently insists that I take an English bride. He’s selected her already.”

  Many English barons grew rebellious when King John of England reneged on the promises he made after the signing of the Magna Carta in 1215. Alexander II of Scotland aided the rebellious English barons against King John. In 1216, Henry III of England, John’s son, became king at the age of nine. Regents have ruled and will continue to rule until Henry becomes of age. Alexander is married to his sister, Joan.

  “What will ye do, Cameron?” Keith asked.

  “I will respect this order.” Cameron sighed and s
hook his head. “I have nay wish for a wife, but I am in need of an heir. I have supported Alexander many times and this will be no different. I will remain loyal to my king although I dread being forced to marry a cold Englishwoman."

  “Do ye often think of her, Cameron?” Aidan asked.

  “Who?” Cameron asked, knowing whom his brother was referring to but refusing to be baited.

  “Ye know who, Cameron. That young girl that night on the borders years ago,” Keith said, smiling.

  “Wipe that smile off yer face, or I will. That was one night many years ago. I doona think about her. Why should I?” Cameron said, knowing full just the opposite was true.

  “He who protests so heartily has something to hide.”

  Cameron snorted and pushed Keith.

  “Who has he selected?” Aidan asked.

  “He doesna mention her name. Although, what does it matter? One woman is like another. Alexander is resolute on solidifying peace with the English through a marriage. Mine. I am the fortunate one selected as repayment for my loyalty, Alexander said. I recognize his other motive, however. Being laird of the most powerful and strongest clan in Scotland has its benefits and disadvantages. This would be a disadvantage. My marriage to an Englishwoman would send a message to all.”

  “Doona let Amy hear ye say that, Cameron.”

  “What?”

  “Women are nay all the same. She’ll give ye a good scolding,” Keith laughed, referring to his wife.

  “She has ye wrapped around her finger, Keith.”

  “I love my wife, Cameron. One woman is nay the same as another and hopefully one day ye’ll see that.” After a moment, Keith asked, “Gillyanne hasna conceived?”

  A shadow briefly darkened Cameron’s silver eyes. The topic of children was a sore one for him. Despite the mistresses he’d kept, they had never conceived. He began believing himself incapable of siring a bairn.

  Cameron wanted to be a father.

  It was not solely to have an heir to continue his line, but a child to raise, to teach, and to watch grow.

  He wanted a child to love.

  “There is a condition of the marriage, Keith,” Cameron paused, looking at his brother. “If my bride doesna conceive within a year of the marriage, the marriage will be annulled.”

  “Will be annulled, or may be annulled?” Aidan asked.

  “Will be annulled. Alexander knows I doona have an heir. He explained that while he was ordering the marriage to take place, he wanted to allow me the opportunity to sire an heir with another woman, without remaining attached to a barren one. This, too, was made a condition as reward for my loyalty.”

  Cameron paused, shaking his head. “The marriage will eventually be annulled.”

  “How can ye be so certain?”

  “I havena sired an heir, Aidan. Even with the women who’ve graced my bed, no child resulted. There was a time when I didna care who the woman was who would carry my child. Gillyanne has never conceived. The fault lies with me. That is why I couldna care less about marrying an Englishwoman. The marriage will be annulled after a year.”

  “What if she conceives, Cameron?” Keith asked seriously.

  “It willna happen,” Cameron said harshly.

  “But what if she does?” Keith insisted.

  “Then English or not, I’ll cherish that woman, and my bairn,” Cameron said intensely. There was a light in Cameron’s eyes.

  Keith turned to the door as it opened. Amy came in just then, handing over a drooling baby to Keith.

  “I have to assist Alice with mending garments. Owen is yers for now, Papa.” Her hazel eyes gleamed as her brown hair shined in the light. She turned to leave, and with his free arm, Keith caught her hand.

  “Not a kiss? Or a hello?”

  Cameron and Aidan snickered, and Keith gave them a glowering look. Amy got on her tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

  “‘Tis all?”

  Amy gave him a saucy look. “Be thankful for that. Bye now,” she said winking at him and left the room.

  “One woman is nay like another, Cameron,” Keith reaffirmed, staring after his wife.

  Cameron reached for his gurgling nephew and laughed. Once Owen was in his arms, the baby began to pull on Cameron’s hair.

  “One woman is like another, but ‘tis worth having one around to get this,” he said, looking down at Owen. Owen giggled, bringing a smile to the laird’s face.

  “I can assure ye of one thing, Keith,” Cameron continued, “the only thing that will be wrapped around my wife’s finger is the thread as she sews.”

  Chapter Two

  “Are you certain, John? The Crown agrees to this?” Diane asked, looking over at the note he held in his hands.

  Haynsworth’s eyes snapped to his wife’s. Annoyance was evident in every line of his face.

  “Aye. I had hopes to marry her off to someone, but not a damn Scots bastard,” he said, irritated.

  “John, no one would have married Abby. She is not the same as she used to be.”

  “Nonsense. She remains a virgin, which is heavily prized, and she still has a substantial dowry. She can bear children. Her mind is broken, Diane, not her body.”

  “You talk of her as if she were nothing more than an animal, John,” Diane said hotly.

  He turned his full attention on her and she backed down.

  “She is of no use here. She has been mute for six years, and walks around without recognizing anything or anyone. Lord Seymour was interested in marrying her.”

  “He’s older than what Lord Elliot would be this day, John!”

  “Damn those MacPhersons! I would have those two estates on the border if they hadn’t killed Elliot,” he said angrily. “Now she owns all of his property. Elliot had no other family or heirs. Rather than it going to the Crown, she takes the property until she remarries, a concession the Crown made. How convenient,” he spat. “When she marries, her husband will oversee it. Abigail, someone who does not even know what season or year we’re in. And now, a damn Scots bastard will have the property after the marriage.”

  Diane’s eyes narrowed and her lips were pinched. Her husband was cold, but she knew that first hand from years of backhanded slaps.

  “What does the letter say?”

  “It says that the relations between England and Scotland need to be further strengthened through a marriage. Abigail has been chosen because she’s our last remaining unwedded daughter and the Crown has chosen our family. If only Henry were older, these regents would cease to run this damn country into the ground!” John said bitterly.

  “When is this wedding to take place?”

  “In a month’s time. She’s to marry a Scottish laird, the clan unnamed. For the benefit of the laird, if no heir is produced within the first year of marriage, the marriage will be annulled and another English bride will be chosen.”

  “Involuntarily? Not at the request of the laird’s family?”

  “No. It will be involuntarily annulled. With any hope, Abigail is barren or the laird is less of a man than he’d like to think that he is.”

  “If she’s barren, you cannot barter her off to anyone else, John,” Diane said heatedly.

  Haynsworth moved to strike her but abruptly stopped when the door opened. A servant brought Abby in. Her long blond hair was in a messy braid. She was disheveled. Abby looked around her in a daze, not focusing on anything. Her face was bereft of emotion. Her once vibrant green eyes that had been alight with mischief and intelligence, were lifeless and vacant.

  “Hello, my baby. How are you?” Diane squatted down next to where Abby now sat.

  “She’s as dumb as a hound, Diane. Don’t waste your breath. On second thought, maybe the hound and Abigail aren’t so similar. At least a hound wags its tail when you speak to it.”

  “She’s your daughter, John! Have some care.”

  “She’s a damn nuisance, especially like this.”

  “She wouldn’t have a broken mind if you ha
dn’t married her off to that vile man!” Diane said forcefully.

  He backhanded Diane causing her to lose her balance and fall back. Her eyes flared with anger as she cupped the right side of her face.

  “Don’t you speak to me like that, Diane. She learned her insolent behavior from you! It wasn’t Elliot’s fault that this occurred, it was those bastard MacPhersons!”

  Abby began rocking herself and humming. She usually reacted in the same fashion in response to any loud noise or fighting.

  “Lower your voice. I’ll not have her upset.”

  Diane was on her knees passing her hand down Abby’s head. Her fingers caught in the tangles of her hair.

  “Have you not wondered why he went to his border home that day? He had told you that his chattels were gone from both holdings. He had no reason to return.”

  “I do not know, Diane, and I do not care. I’m leaving. Being in a room with both of you irritates me.” With a sneer, Haynsworth left.

  Diane looked at her daughter, who continued to rock herself and hum. She was nothing more than a shell of her old self. There was no more careless laughter and no spark in her green eyes.

  “Oh, baby, my sweet baby,” Diane said, brushing a lock back behind Abby’s ear. “I am so sorry.”

  Abby stopped rocking herself and stopped humming. It was usual for her to self-soothe when she was near her father, even without raised voices. Diane took notice of that. Somehow, Abby had an awareness of when her father was present.

  And he, apparently, scared her.

  Chapter Three

  “Where is the wedding going to take place?” Alice asked her son, as she packed the finest plaid for the wedding.

  “At Baron Wexford’s holding,” Cameron responded, looking out of the window of his room.

  “That’s odd, Cameron. Why there?”

  “I’m nay certain. Perhaps Alexander thought it best to meet there. Wexford is a neutral baron and perhaps Alexander thought it was safer to have the wedding there anticipating problems between the English and us.”