Highland Faith

by Hill, Madelyn

  “I must start at the beginning. After my mother’s death, my father nearly forgot he had a second son. This I have told you. What I didnae share was my father’s love of gambling. With this love, he managed to lose our castle to the Crown. When the Crown came to take the castle, ’twas a dire night for my brother Michael was lost as he fought to save my father and the land. With my travels, I had secured nearly enough to pay the Crown’s demand. What I needed was a boon, a largesse which would satisfy the debt in the time they allotted me. And the largesse was you, darling.

  “With the bag of coin, I sailed to Ross territory to pay the magistrate and see my father Laird of the Ross Castle once again.

  “Please forgive me, for I lost sight of what was grand and true. You are my darling and I’m on my way to you.

  “My heart is yours, m’lady. Yours for the taking if you so choose.

  “All my love,

  “Captain Graeme Ross”

  Her hands shook with fear and rage. “You kept this from me?” she snarled through the tears and ire. “You have betrayed me.”

  Hope paced to her, tried to grab her hand. “By Saint Michael, we thought ’twas right, Faith. We only meant to protect you since he hasn’t come.”

  “Protect me!” Bile rose in her throat. A flurry of emotions shifted through her, all resulting in a deafening crescendo of hate. “I loathe you.”

  “Faith,” Honor said with a gasp. “Nay.”

  She rounded on her younger sister. “How dare you defend her, wee sister?” She pointed at their laird. “She made a decision which should have been mine.”

  “We thought ’twas for the best,” Hope sobbed. “We waited for him to come, truly, we watched and sent men out.”

  She slowly turned back toward Hope and lifted a brow. “We?”

  Honor came to her side and wrapped her arm around her. “Come, Faith. Sit, please, you’re upsetting the bairn.”

  “Nay,” she yelled as she tore from her sister’s grip. “Our sister, our laird has betrayed me in the most damaging way.” Her heart ached for what she’d suffered for the last few months as she waited for Graeme, questioned his love, wondered if he’d ever arrive to claim her. She waved the letter toward her sisters. “This letter was sent so long ago.”

  “Why didnae you give it to her?” Honor asked Hope.

  Hope wiped the back of her neck. “Aidan and I discussed it . . . he—nay, we thought it better to keep the letter from you than to give you false hope.”

  “This letter is full of hope, full of love.” She glared at Hope. “If I’d received this letter, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry Bryce.”

  Honor hovered behind her, a stand of solidarity, she assumed. She gripped her own hands to stop them from shaking. The deep sense of turmoil nearly suffocated her. She stepped within a hair of her laird. “Why? Why couldn’t I have learned of Graeme’s love for me?”

  Hope’s gaze darted from hers. “Because the man has yet to arrive. You ken the voyage shouldn’t have taken this long.”

  “The sea is a fickle beast and she can whip up her dander in a thrice. Storms happen daily, Hope. We all ken as much, living on the sound.”

  Her sister rested her hand on her shoulder. Compassion filled her eyes as she watched her. “And we all know how a ship can be sunk on the fickle sea.”

  She shoved her away. “Are you saying Graeme is dead?”

  “Nay,” Honor said as she pushed between the sisters. Her widened gaze imploring them to be civil. “Nay, Hope isn’t saying such. Are you, Hope?”

  For a long moment, her sister watched them with her dark green eyes. When she shook her head, Honor released her breath.

  Unable to bear her sisters’ presence any longer, she pointed to the door and said, “Go.”

  “You dinnae mean it.”

  “Oh, but I do.”

  Hope gave her one last probing look and left the chamber. Off to talk to her husband, she presumed.

  “Och, Faith, ’tis a grand mess.” Tears ran down Honor’s face. The poor lass was in the midst of things, to be sure.

  “Help me dress.”

  Honor widened her eyes. “Nay, you do not mean to go through with it after you’ve read his letter?”

  She straightened her shoulders and looked directly at her sister, steeling her heart and her mind against the truth: Graeme hadn’t arrived. It could mean he . . . he was gone or he’d changed his mind. Either way, she’d a bairn on the way. And she had to protect her child, even if the costs were dear. “You heard what Hope said. ’Tis months since we sent the letter. And the bairn grows within me.”

  “There has to be some other way.” Honor hugged her, patted her back. “We must think of another way.”

  Tears flowed. “’Tis no other way, Honor.” She pulled back and smoothed her hand over her younger sister’s face. “I’ve made a promise and Graeme . . . he hasn’t arrived.” And she feared he’d never come. More, she feared him dead.

  “But you dinnae love Bryce.”

  Her heart clenched so quickly her knees buckled. Honor held onto her. Without Graeme, did it truly matter? “’Tis the best for the babe, Honor. Surely you realize this.” She released her sister and moved toward the bed. There lay her mother’s gown, resplendent in emerald silk. The gown auld, but still perfectly suited for a Highland wedding. She fingered the embroidered cuff, remembering Hope wearing the gown. Her sister had looked lovely and she kenned Honor would look even lovelier, the pretty lass.

  “Let me help.”

  She allowed herself to be pampered as Honor handed her the undergarments, tightened the blasted corset as much as her expecting figure allowed, then slipped the embroidered petticoat over her head and onto her waist. Finally, the mantua. ’Twas heavy and it took both of them wrestling with it to get it settled upon her shoulders and situated so the beautiful petticoat peeked from beneath.

  After Honor laced up the front and fit the stomacher into place, she could barely breathe.

  “Perfect,” Honor said as she stepped back and cover her mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

  Heat rose over her face. She glanced at the looking glass and her eyes widened. It was surprising to be pleased with her appearance when she truly favored britches.

  “One more touch.” Honor draped a swath of MacAlister tartan over her shoulder and secured it with the clan brooch just above her hip.

  The clan tartan.

  “Perfect.”

  With a nod, she tore her gaze from the mirror. ’Twasn’t perfect and a gathering darkness filled her.

  How could she wed a man she didn’t love? The coming nuptials ahead and the night following would be torturous. But she’d given her promise. Damn, why had she agreed to the marriage?

  “’Tis time.”

  It couldn’t possibly be.

  “I would have thought Aidan would have come and havered about doing his duty and securing me a husband despite the letter.”

  Honor tipped her head to the side. “Aye, I’m sure he and Hope are having a row over it, to be sure.”

  That wrought a grin.

  Her sister held out her arm. “Come on with you.”

  She glanced about her chamber. One which reflected her life with her arrows and quiver resting against the wall beneath the window. Tapestries of women sharing tea and dancing about a glen covered the walls and brought warmth to the room. What would the man bring? His weapons, for certain. A shiver ran down her spine. She knew so little of the man she planned to wed; she didn’t know his habits or favored pastimes.

  “Faith?”

  She accepted Honor’s arm and they left the chamber. They headed down the stairs and into the main hall. Lavender and roses were tied in fat bunches with streaming ribbons. Petals littered the limestone floors with sprink
les of pinks.

  Clanswomen hustled about bring platters of food and pitchers of drink to the tables in the hall and those in the bailey.

  She took a step forward and nearly crumpled to the floor. “I need a moment.”

  Honor’s gaze searched her face. “Only a moment. I’ll wait at the kirk.”

  She nodded and slipped out the back of the keep. She rounded the palisade and strode to her spot on the cliff. A warm breeze shifted over her, nearly undoing the intricate curls and twists Honor had managed with her hair.

  “Give me strength,” she prayed as she watched the waves ebb and flow. If only she were below the cliffs and in a boat ready to sail away.

  Tears blurred her vision as she continued to stare before her, but not seeing anything at all. What a mess she’d wrought. They’d all wrought.

  She wanted adventure, not remaining at the keep as a wife to a warrior. No matter her father’s pledge. He’d want her happy. They’d worked together, she’d helped the clan, and offered a skill.

  But happiness eluded her.

  “Father,” she said as she glanced toward the sky, “I love you and our clan. Tell me what I’m doing is right.”

  The breeze blew harder, buffeted her gown against her legs. She gripped her stomach, caressed her babe.

  “Faith,” whispered along the wind.

  She shook her head and glanced upward again.

  “Darling.”

  It couldn’t be. Faith spun around.

  There he stood.

  Her handsome Graeme. With his low-slung kilt and shining sword. The roguish grin filled his face along with some cuts and bruises. His eyes met hers and then traveled over her body. His brow rose and he looked in her eye.

  He ran to her and knelt before her. “Dear God, Faith. A bairn?”

  He gently placed his hands on her belly and rested his cheek against her. “Our bairn. Forgive me.”

  With tears of joy and shaking hands, she knelt before him. Faith cupped his cheeks, brushed her thumbs over his rough beard. “There is nothing to forgive. I kenned you would come. Come for us.”

  “I love you, Lady Faith MacAlister,” he said gruffly. He enveloped her with an embrace. “I love you, darling.”

  “Step away.”

  She pulled back, but never tore her gaze from her love. “Leave us be, Aidan.”

  Graeme stood, helped her up, and moved her behind him. “Nay,” he said as he turned toward Aidan.

  Bryce, Duncan, Hope and other clansmen hurried out of the palisade and paced toward them. Each rested their hands on the pommel of their swords.

  “She is to be wed.”

  Graeme tensed and turned toward her. “Is this true?” he said with a gruff voice.

  “It’s been months,” she offered weakly. “I just received your letter this morn.” She slid a quelling glance at her sister.

  He pointed toward the sound. The Blue Boy bobbed on the water with a flapping sail and broken bulwarks. “My ship ran aground. My men were hurt.”

  She trembled as she gripped his hands. “All that matters is that you are here now.”

  “This man ransomed you,” Aidan interrupted.

  Bryce watched her but remained silent.

  Graeme spoke only to her. “Would you have wed a man you didnae love a man who isn’t the father of the babe?”

  She shook her head. “Nay, I kenned you would come, Graeme.” She smiled, then stretched up and kissed him.

  “Och, Faith, think of Bryce.”

  Anger flared and she slid a glance at Bryce. “I’ll not marry him, Hope. This you ken as true.”

  “The man left you. He took the ransom.”

  She fisted her hands at her waist. “You read the letter.” She slipped her hand into Graeme’s and squeezed. “They kept your letter from me, Graeme. I tried to wait until you arrived. If I’d had the letter sooner, nothing would have stopped me from waiting.”

  He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “I ken, darling. Mayhap I should settle this with the lairds.”

  “The ransom is still gone, lass.” Aidan moved closer, his voice a bit softer, quieter as if he were trying to keep the conversation from the clan’s ears.

  Graeme pulled a bag from his sporran and tossed it to Aidan. As Graeme did on the Blue Boy, Aidan lifted the bag as if to weigh it.

  “’Tis more than we gave.”

  A cocky grin flashed on Graeme’s face. “Consider it interest.”

  She looked from Hope to Aidan. Honor moved to stand by her and Graeme. “I’ll wed only Graeme. I love him. Nothing will keep us apart, just as nothing kept you and Aidan apart.” All knew she was right.

  “Faith, think of what you are doing,” Hope implored.

  “I knew Father, Hope. He’d never expect us to forsake who we love to remain with the clan. He wanted us to find love just as he loved mother. Just as you love Aidan.”

  Murmurs were heard from the clansmen standing outside the keep.

  Hope cried as she grinned at her sister.

  “I relinquish the wedding contract.”

  They all turned toward Bryce. He kept his steady gaze upon her. “I’d never want you to marry me if your heart lies with another.”

  Honor stood before the warrior. “You’re a grand man, Bryce.”

  A ruddy hue covered his cheeks at Honor’s praise.

  “I thank you,” Graeme said as he pulled Faith close. “We thank you.”

  Bryce bowed and left the spectacle. Pride kept his broad shoulders straight. She’d no doubt he’d find a lass worthy of him.

  “How do we trust this man truly loves you?”

  “You doubt the word of a Ross?” an elderly man said as Dougal helped him over the stairs carved into the rocky cliff.

  “Father, I’ll take care of this.”

  “Grand to see you again, m’lady,” Dougal said with a wink.

  “Your father?”

  “Aye.” He drew her toward his father. “I present Lady Faith MacAlister.”

  He enveloped her in a hug. “M’lady, ’tis a pleasure to meet the lass who has captured me son’s heart.” Laird Ross kissed her on both cheeks.

  She grinned. Happiness swept through her.

  Graeme went down on one knee. “I have loved you since the first day I saw you. You snared and killed a rabbit and I could only think, ’twas my kind of woman. And when you tracked the stag for days, I kenned no other woman would do for me.”

  He looked toward her sisters and Aidan. “Wed me, darling. And you’ll own my heart forever.”

  “Aye, my captain. My heart is yours.”

  Epilogue

  She was eager to wed Captain Graeme Ross. “Come.”

  Graeme grabbed her hand, squeezed, pulled her close. The rest of the spectators followed, their conversations filling the festive air.

  His father chuckled and patted Dougal on the back. “’Tis a fine day for a wedding.”

  Colin cried. “Aye, and ’tis a lovely bride for our Captain.”

  She smiled. God had answered her prayers.

  Alex cringed at his mate’s emotion. “Och, Colin. Be a man.”

  Amit, the quiet, but wise man merely nodded to her as if giving approval.

  Hope called for her to wait for Aidan to walk her down the aisle.

  They entered the kirk bedecked with decorations for the pending wedding to Bryce. No matter, ’twasn’t about the flowers, but about their love.

  Honor scooted before them. She spoke to the priest, gesturing and whispering. He nodded and bade them come forward.

  “Aidan,” she heard Hope say, “do something.”

  “Aye, wife.” He gripped her hand. “Faith, I’d be honored to give you away.”
>
  She grinned and nodded, ready to forget the wretched last few months and think about the future with her captain.

  After Aidan guided her toward the priest and Graeme, with his proud father beside him, the priest asked, “You wish to wed this man, m’lady?”

  The crowd laughed.

  She smiled and looked at her husband to be. “Aye.”

  “And you, lad. Do you wish to wed Lady Faith?”

  “Aye,” Graeme said as he kept his eyes on her. His gaze filled with so much love her heart nearly burst.

  The priest squinted at them. “You ken she’s a bit stubborn?”

  “Father,” she chastised.

  He merely shrugged. “’Tis the truth of it.”

  “Aye,” Graeme agreed. “’Tis one of her most endearing qualities.”

  “By Saint Raphael, he does love her,” they heard Hope say.

  She felt her sister and Aidan move behind them, show their support. Tears of joy filled her eyes.

  “Well, Clan MacAlister,” the father said to the now full kirk. “’Tis going to be a wedding after all.”

  Acknowledgements

  While researching for the Wild Thistle Trilogy, I came across several interesting facts that prompted the story lines for both Highland Hope and Highland Faith. The Ross Clan experienced much upheaval throughout history between conflict, politics, and clan disputes. The idea the Chieftain of Clan Ross died without any male issue, thus the earldom passed through the female line inspired Highland Hope.

  For Highland Faith, the fact that Ross castle was lost due to debt inspired Graeme’s quest to secure funds. Coupled with his desire to gain his father’s respect, this conflict drove Graeme to kidnap Faith and demand a ransom.

  Of course I took much creative liberty with the information, tweaking and twisting until it worked with the statement which came to me at the very beginning, “Through Hope, Faith, and Honor, ye can rule.” That basic statement dictated a trilogy be created highlighting three strong, intelligent woman.