William traced the back of her hand with his fingers, “Would you consider me as an alternative to homelessness?”
She beamed at his hopeful face, “I would love that.”
Chapter Nine
Over the next year, Elise made a happy home out of William’s small house. She added touches here and there to remind him that a woman lived there too. There were almost always wildflowers on the table; she tended the chickens and the vegetable garden all on her own; and she learned how to make meals that were efficient and inexpensive and tasty. She spent many an afternoon mending blankets or stitching her needlepoint. Sometimes William would tell her she should sell off the samplers for money. She waved him off but considered making a go of it.
William continued to work for his boss and never really mentioned the fact of how they came to be together. He enjoyed coming home to her smiling face and willing arms. He spent a few hours each evening carefully woodworking in the back stable, but would not let Elise see his project until it was finished.
He typically handled the trips into town and while Elise missed her outings, she found that she had less need to escape than she did from Henry.
She did miss Abigail though. She mentioned it every so often to William and he would pat her hand caringly. He knew she had to be lonely, and he wished he could offer her more than just his company. The evenings were pleasantly empty, full of nothing but good food and good companionship and heated passion in the bedroom.
One cool autumn morning, William came bursting through the front door with a huge grin on his face.
“Hello my love!” he greeted her.
She laughed, “What on earth has gotten into you? Have you been at the whiskey without me?”
He stepped back from the open door and gestured outside with his hand. The face that peered around the corner made Elise gasp out loud.
“Abigail!” she screeched.
Abigail grinned and ran to embrace her former mistress and long-time friend.
The two women giggled at the state of each other, and each stroked the other’s swollen belly. William wrapped his arms around his common law bride and kissed the top of her head.
“Abigail still works for Henry but she had to come see you when I told her about our little impending miracle. How about I drive you all into town for an outing?”
Both young women nodded vehemently, and bundled up for the trip. After several hours of discomfort in the wooden buggy, the two walked arm in arm through the village with William trailing close behind.
As they stepped into the small inn for lunch, Abigail pressed her fingertips to her lips and stepped back as William stepped forward next to Elise. A drunken Henry lurched up from his table, sending his mistress tumbling to the floor.
“Well lookie here,” he stuttered, pointing a finger at her.
William wrapped one muscular arm around Elise protectively, as Elise inhaled sharply.
“Looksh like you got yourshelf in a bit of trouble,” Henry slurred as he staggered towards the couple.
Elise stiffened and straightened her spine. “No, actually I was in a peck of trouble until I found a real man.”
Abigail grinned at Henry’s astonished face, but Elise had already whirled around and was striding out of the inn.
THE END
The Highlander’s Taken Bride
The sounds of judgment are terrifying. They are shrill, aching pandemonium. What begins as an ordinary day, one full of blue skies and gentle breezes, escalates into strange and terrifying intervals of eerie silence. That is the point where one realizes that something is coming, and that this something is nothing less than what you deserve.
Allia McQuarry certainly felt the threat of silence and she wasn’t the only one to feel something stirring in the air that evening. The medicine man and sworn protector of Fonnelly Village was named Angus. Whenever Angus went outside to meditate publicly, through no intentional spectacle of his own, it always aroused the locals. The young lads made fun of him and his theatrics. But the wise knew that when he sensed something coming, it was time to prepare.
“What is it?” Allia said, always fearing the worst and in these desperate times, usually getting just what she feared most.
“I don’t know. I only follow the sensations as they are dispersed through the wind.”
“But it’s trouble, isn’t it? We’re going to have to run.”
“Something tells me…no. There is no reason to run. Not this time.”
She smiled in hope…only to realize that the statement seemed more cryptic than reassuring. Allia went to bed that night, fearing the worst. She was the daughter of a noble man and an heir to a throne—a throne that may well exist one day, should the village meet up with enough men to create something worth fighting over. For now, all she had was royal blood and the trust of her cousins and brothers.
She didn’t have much experience in combat herself. Her brothers and male cousins all went without her, while the women stayed behind and tended to the young. But depending on what Angus sensed, and how bleak a prediction it was, she would have to learn how to fight quickly…or perhaps learn how to rule very quickly. If by some chance it was good news, perhaps reinforcements sent from the north, or the surrender of a nearby province, it would be a good sign. Their luck was about to change.
Don’t run, he said. Whatever that meant, the coming weeks would prove interesting, or so she thought before learning firsthand that the future was never too bright for an honest woman.
The next morning the sounds of silence were deafening. For hours in the dawn, she tossed and turned in her hut, fearing the worst was about to happen. By the time she heard the screams and the sounds of marching horses and warriors, she knew that Angus’ prediction was far from good news.
“This is an invasion!” she cried to her cousin Rose who slept in the bed next to her, another royal family member in waiting.
“Who is invading? Oh dear God…is it the highlanders?”
“They are on the border,” she said, fretting at the idea of those monsters among men pillaging the village.
“It must be them. We have no quarrel with anyone else. They are the only ones who could reach us overnight.”
“What can we do?”
Allia listened in dread as the sounds of war—chopping, screaming and metal clanking with metal—only grew louder.
“Sack the village! Kill everyone!”
“Wait!”
“RUN! RUN!”
The voices increased in their fury and not a minute passed until the rummaging reached the huts and the adobes, dangerously close to where Rose and Allia were staying.
“Where are all of our fighters?”
“I don’t know…what do we do now, Allia?”
“We pray…there’s not a lot more we can do.”
The battle raged on outside and men hollered to the sky as sounds of stabbing and puking sounded off, each minute providing more desperation, more begging and pleading. When the footsteps became imminent, Rose and Allia decided to bolt for it.
The window inside the hut was small, but was just large enough to push at least one of them through.
“You go first,” Allia said.
“But you’re the rightful heir. I…I am nothing.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m worth more…maybe…maybe I can survive. I fear for you, little one. When I push you through, run away to the hills and go as far away from the borderlands as you can.”
“Okay…I’m scared…”
“So am I, love…”
Allia opened the window and helped Rose to the windowsill, by propping her feet on her hands. Rose squeezed her way through and looked out, seeing nothing but open grass.
“The coast is clear. GO!”
“But…will you follow me?”
“God willing I’ll try…now go!”
Rose wiggled her way through the window until Allia gave her a rough charge to the buttocks, knocking her through.
And ju
st in time, for not a second later the door was kicked in, and a ravenous beast of a man stood before her.
“Oh!” she cried, walking backwards towards the window.
The warrior looked mad, already covered in blood and heaving in and out like a bull or an elephant ready to charge. He eyed her wantonly and laughed, her dainty frame and light red hair taunting the lonely old thief.
“Well what do we have here…” he said with an evil face that only made his unshaven beard look more menacing. “Are you a virgin, girl?”
“No,” she said firmly, trying to dissuade him with an unflattering lie.
“Well I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, pushing the door behind him shut.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I’m an heir to the throne.”
“Really? Gooooood,” he said lecherously. “Then I’ll be your king.”
She looked towards the window and almost lunged out before he caught her.
“Don’t even think of going. Or I’ll take your arse first.”
Allia stood still, flinching and all out of options.
Just as she began to brace herself for a hard lunge, the door flew open. There stood a man, a red-haired man of six and a half feet tall, shaven and green eyed, looking more like a god of the ancients than any warrior.
As he made eye contact with the heiress to the throne, his eyes seemed to change colors, with a subtle glowing sensation. She instantly felt his power, his inhumanity and magical presence. The moment he walked into a room the air seemed thinner and every human around him seemed to become weightless.
“Oh, hello master,” the warrior said, instantly cowering. “I found her here. I kept her safe for you.”
Time seemed to stop when the highlanders spoke. When one interrogated you, you couldn’t help but speak the truth. “Why did you close the door?”
“Because I didn’t want her to get away. There were a whole flock of girls. The rest of them escaped…”
The highlander looked at him in suspicion.
“Promise!”
“Sir?” Allia said softly.
Both men looked at her, surprised that a woman dare raise her voice.
“What happened to the others?” he asked.
“There are no others. Just me…” she said. “But I’ll have you know…if you kill me or take advantage of me there will be repercussions.”
“Oh?” the highlander asked straightly, though the other warrior chuckled. “What kind of repercussions?”
“Why…I can’t fathom to think. I am the legitimate second granddaughter of Lord Fonnelly. He started this village. When my sister died, I inherited the title.”
“And where is your kingdom, your highness?” he asked, causing the other man to laugh heartily.
“I have no doubt that it will come…” she said meekly. “When the time is right. And if God willing.”
“Take her into captivity. Instruct the men that I forbid anyone to lay a finger on her before me. Understood?”
“Yes, master.”
“If anyone goes beyond that law, they will not enjoy their comeuppance. Understood?”
“Of course.”
The warrior and Allia shared an uncomfortable stare, each one covering for the other’s lie. Whatever the highlander wished, was to be. Highlanders were not only blessed by gods, but could rightly be called gods.
The rumor of Allia’s claim to a throne at least stalled for time. She was taken captive but the men were extra kind to her and careful not to push and shove. She was transported to a mobile cage and imprisoned for a day. The invaders kept her guarded and in a position away from their dealings with the nearby village. Allia had no idea if anyone was left standing or if the war was over. She only saw warriors and armored men walking by, avoiding eye contact with her, and mumbling to themselves.
They gave her water and minimal food for the time of her captivity, about three days in total. Two blankets for the night and not much else. She became worried and would holler out to whoever walked by to bring her up to date on what was going on in the region, and if her northern relatives heard about the attack.
“Excuse me!” she said to a girl walking a short distance away. She dressed like them, like the highlander people. She had to know something.
“I can’t talk to you.”
“Please! Just let me know what’s going on. I’m not trying to escape. Just tell me what happened.”
“We’re not allowed to say anything. The highlander clan…they are our leaders. We are just their subordinates. They assimilated our village years ago.”
“You’re not one of them?”
“No. There is only one family. They are always bickering and arguing. We fear any day now they could break apart, destroying us along the way.”
“But what about my village? The one they just attacked?”
“What do you mean? They haven’t attacked anyone.”
“The one they just raided? The…”
“That? There is nothing left. They took everything.”
“What?! Are you telling me that my home is gone? They’re all dead?”
“I have to go…” she said, feeling anxious.
“Wait! I’m sorry…just please tell me. Did they kill everybody?”
“Some got away. But the village has been burned to the ground.”
“And no one else…”
“No. You’re the only one spared and the only one found that wasn’t killed.”
“Why me?”
“Oh…I thought you knew.”
“No, tell me!”
“You are being kept by Gerard MacAlister. He is the oldest surviving brother of the clan. And he’s taking you as a wife.”
“No…oh no!” cried Allia.
“I…I thought you would be happy. To be spared…to be treated like a person. You don’t know what it’s like…” The girl suddenly became angry and began heaving and raising her voice. “You’re so lucky! Not all of us are treated like royalty, you know! Some of us have hardships beyond what you could comprehend.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Burn in Hell!” she said scathingly. “I hope the demon bastard rapes you hard like all your people deserve.”
The girl ran off leaving Allia in tears.
“Oh Lord. What have I done to deserve this…”
II
Captivity among the highlanders was no great reward. Even though she was a “princess” of sorts, Allia was treated just slightly better than a favored animal. None of the ordinary slave humans were kind to her and relatives of the “big brother”, the same ones who looked and felt miraculously like a god. They were no admirers of her or her crown. In fact, the entire camp seemed threatened by her, even while she wasted away in a small prison.
“Dear Lord I am afraid…” she muttered softly. Where is my savior? If I’m to be the queen, the rightful heir…why haven’t my relatives in the North sent warriors and horses to fight for me? Why am I being kept here and tormented…”
She even resorted to calling to the man who once threatened to rape her. The same warrior who kicked her door open and scowled – that cretin.
“You! You know who I am.”
“Quiet down,” he said resentfully, stripped away of all his perverse inclinations by the master himself.
“Can you please tell me what’s happening?”
“You’re being held prisoner, stupid wench.”
“Where is he? What does he want? If my people have dispersed…why are we waiting? Why not set me free so that I can go up North to see my remaining family?”
“So what? You can come back down to kill us? And the highlanders? Good luck, lass. They are a cruel race, that’s for sure. But they are what we need to survive.”
“A girl…she said something about being delivered as a bride. Is it true?”
“Of course not. Highlanders despise human beings.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“Because, foolish girl. You
are worth money to your greedy friends up North. They pay the ransom, and we let you go.”
“I see…”
“And if they don’t pay the ransom…” He laughed sadistically. Then the highlanders will give you to us. And we won’t treat you like a queen, that’s for sure.”
“Tell him I want to speak with him. The big one, the one they call Gerard.”
“He’s not talking to you, peasant.”
“I demand it! Perhaps I may be of help in negotiating a fair price.”
“Desperate aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you be? If certain death was your only other option?”
“I’ll tell him. But I tell you this, stupid girl. The only clan that hates you Fonnelly people more than we do is the highlanders. The monsters. The wizards and sorcerers. They despise you the most of all. And I would just as soon kill the lot of you for what you’ve done.”
“We haven’t done anything!” she said.
But the man walked away cursing and swinging at the air.
Allia went to sleep that night and stayed asleep until the late morning hours, shivering from the morning chill. She awoke slowly, not knowing where she was or if she was surrounded by peace and quiet, or raging war. A sickening stir came over her as she woke up and remembered all of the terrible sounds of war that occurred but a week ago.
As she sat up and shook her head awake an even more strange feeling came over her—the distinct feeling of being watched.
She was startled to see Gerard, the highlander, staring at her through the entrance of the cage.
“Oh! Hello sire.”
He nodded, unsure of what he was looking at. He seemed altogether confused by her appearance. “I am Gerard. And you are?”
“I am Allia. The heir of the Fonnelly Dynasty.”
He nodded, unimpressed. “You might think twice about broadcasting your titles, Future Queen. Considering that we are at war with the Fonnelly Dynasty.”
Kidnapped By The Highlander Lord (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 66