Passion and Plaid - Her Highland Hero (Scottish Historical Romance)

by Karin, Anya

  “Miss Kenna, why not use this?” Rollo unfurled a spyglass and handed it to her. “Enjoy the costumes.” His voice was tempered with a warm smile. “Some of them are truly remarkable.”

  “Oh thank you, Rollo.” Her voice was absent when she took the device. She was already gazing directly at her Gavin, imagining his arms around her waist, his lips pressed to hers. No longer was she at a festival, no longer was she even outdoors in her imagination. She was in Fort Mary, and running her fingers through Gavin’s hair and he was kissing her with soft, fluttering brushes behind her ear. Finally alone after a day-long wedding ceremony, Kenna was in Gavin’s arms, waiting for him to make love to her and watching every movement of his face.

  “You have to look through it,” Rollo said with a little chuckle.

  “Oh yes of course, quite sorry.” She lifted the glass to her eye and when she saw him, it was three times as powerful as it was when he just lived in her mind’s eye.

  Gavin turned, speaking first to John, who Kenna laughed to see was dressed in the most absurd woad and kilt she’d ever seen. Then he patted Rodrigo, dressed in a lavish waistcoat and powdered wig, on the shoulder, and then he took a bite of some sort of a roasted haunch of meat. The three of them were standing just close enough that she could make out details on their faces, so when Gavin threw his head back and laughed at something – no doubt some bawdy joke from John – the dimple in his left cheek made her gasp and put her hand to her throat, feeling the thistle.

  Thinking of home. Of happiness. Of what she needed more than anything in the world.

  Thinking of Gavin.

  “When do the events start?” She said to no one in particular, more to keep herself from swooning as she looked at her fiancé than to actually ask. “The place it seems to be filling quickly.”

  “Oh not for a time still,” Rollo said, still grinning. “We’ve still got to have the pipe and drum band perform, a little singing, a little dancing.”

  “That’s a contest this year,” Willard said in a low, disgusted voice. “The dancing. And where the Devil are those boys from the Company? They were supposed to be here by now. And the sheriff? Although if I’m being honest I actually hope he stays wherever he is.”

  “I can’t speak for the sheriff, but most of the Company men departed this morning after you’d already gone. Or at least that was what they’d decided to do when last I spoke with them. Captain Jameson and rest of them were getting restless. Though they left a contract with me for the lumber, I-”

  “Not now. Today, we should relax and not worry about those things.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Although,” his eyes narrowed. “Did you see the terms? Are they what I proposed? A home in Jamaica for myself and my bride? A portion of whatever they do with the land here?”

  Kenna’s throat clenched, but she knew she mustn’t say anything. Rollo squeezed her shoulder as if to say ‘everything will be fine, just stay calm’.

  “I didn’t check the terms, sir, though I expect they are what was agreed upon.”

  “Good. Ah, very good! In that case we have two things to celebrate – a wedding and the beginning of my life away from these barbaric people and their endless complaints. I can’t think of anything more perfect to cap off a festival day. Can you, dear?”

  Kenna tried very hard to reply and play the part of a supplicant wife, because she knew that’s what he wanted. And she knew that what the mayor wanted was the smartest thing to do, but all she managed was to nod, look at him, and try to smile as sweetly as she could.

  “Good,” he said. She noticed that he never took his eyes off the field in front of them, off the increasing crowd of people milling about. “Something’s bothering me about this. Don’t you see how many kilts there are? That fellow in woad...there’s something curious about him. Something not right.”

  “Oh, no, Councillor,” Rollo said quickly. “He must be from Edinburgh or somewhere farther afield. I don’t recognize him, but isn’t that a wonderful costume? That plaid isn’t any I’ve ever seen. Certainly not from a nearby clan. And at any rate, he’s painted blue. Hard to be subtle with your dissent when one is half-naked and painted blue.”

  “Sinful,” the mayor said in a whisper. “Such immodesty.”

  “Ach, Willard, it’s just a costume, no? He’s probably a perfectly decent man when he’s about the town.” Kenna pulled on his arms but he didn’t respond. The mayor instead fixated on the drunk wandering about the grounds.

  Ignoring Kenna completely, he turned to Rollo. “That really does cause me a great deal of irritation. So brazen. Why do we have to continually have all sorts of ingrates from the city in our village?”

  “Think of all the things they buy, Mayor, and all the money he’ll spend at Duggan’s inn, or wherever he’s staying. No matter what sort of costume he wears, or from where he came, he’s bringing money to our little town,” Rollo responded.

  Willard seemed to accept that explanation, or lose interest. Either way the result was the same. Kenna breathed a relieved sigh. She was able to catch one more glimpse of Gavin as he descended the far hill that hid him from her. As he did, she thought she saw him turn around, maybe look back in her direction, but she knew that was impossible. So far away, she was only barely able to make him out with the help of a spyglass.

  But she could always hope. Always and forever, she could pray and imagine that he saw her, that he knew she was there, looking back at him.

  All she could do was hope.

  Sixteen

  Festival Grounds

  August 19, Noon

  Try as she might, for the rest of the morning, Kenna simply could not find Gavin among the growing crowd.

  And grow it did. From the early morning until the sun was high in the sky and the smoke from Willard’s ever-burning fires was swept away by breeze and the cool of the morning replaced with warmth. The smell of grass struck Kenna’s nose, followed by the scent of earth, and roasting meats, corn, turnips, haggis pies and everything else she loved. Aside from all that, every time the east-west breeze picked up a little, it brought the fragrant sweetness of the blooming thistle flowers from the hills on either side of the valley.

  There were a few fights, both of which got Mayor Willard’s feathers in a ruffle. Someone would shout at someone else, Willard would remark upon the moral weakness that came with drinking too much, then make some offhanded comment about the generally pitiful state of Scotland’s men, and many of its women, and then instruct the village’s guards to carry off whoever it was that had the misfortune of crossing the mayor.

  No one was hurt in the fights, and indeed as Kenna watched one unfold, they seemed not to be fights at all – not the vicious sort meant to settle differences – but just a sort of friendly duel, a show of martial talent. Of course, all Willard saw in them were drunken Scots exhibiting their slovenliness.

  The crowd swelled as the sun hit the middle of the sky, and Kenna began to wonder when exactly the announcement was to be made of her impending wedding and the mayor’s move to Jamaica. She thought that probably at least one of those announcements would be met with a great deal of public support, but probably not for the reason the mayor thought.

  But, the beginning of the festival came and went without a mention of it, or of much anything else.

  “Is something bothering you, Willard?” Kenna asked when she looked over and saw Willard tugging on the cuff of his glove, pulling it tighter on his hand. He waved dismissively and summoned Rollo.

  “When is this unpleasant charade going to begin?”

  “It should be any moment, mayor. I think the only thing upon which we are waiting is a judge for the fencing contest and a few of the competitors to assemble.”

  The mayor grunted in response.

  “Have you considered the timing of your announcement? I’m sure the townspeople would like to celebrate what you’ve got to tell them.”

  “No,” Willard said. “Later. Maybe not at all.”


  “As you say, sir.”

  “As I say, yes,” Willard’s eyes took on a slightly dreamy, distant quality. He was staring at the competitors who had gathered into a clump in the middle of the field below them. “As I say. Kenna?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you know any of them?”

  “If I’m being honest, I dinna know any of them, though I’ve been looking for Gavin. I’m beginning to worry that he willna make it, or that he thought you were trying to trap him. He has survived as long as he has being careful, after all.”

  “Yes, I assume so. Why would he worry that I would trap him? Would he have any reason to believe that?”

  “I – ach, no. I dinna know why he would. I’m just worried that’s what’s on his mind is all.”

  “I see,” he said as he turned his head to Rollo and the two exchanged a glance. “I hope the same. I’ve heard that his merry band has a few men who excel in certain things. He’s got a knife fighter and a fencer with him? Perhaps we should have had a contest to see who could be the most obnoxious thug.”

  Rollo shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and smoothed the front of his coat, and then straightened a button. The mayor still stood, absolutely still, so tall and lean that his appearance neared that of a thin tree standing apart from a forest.

  “If you see them, Kenna, you’d do well to tell me. I want to point out our guests and show them the utmost hospitality. Don’t think of me as a villain.” He turned to her and took a step nearer. “I seem to have left you with the wrong impression. At least, that’s what I gather from the tightness in your voice. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced into this. You should be happy that I’m helping to keep you pure and decent instead of allowing your descent into filth.”

  His every word stung Kenna like a slap in the face. She didn’t answer for a moment, instead preferring to summon every ounce of self-control she had to keep from jumping over the railing in front of her and running until she found Gavin.

  “Where’s Sheriff Alan?” She asked to keep her tongue moving amicably, to keep from getting in trouble. “I haven’t seen him and you said he was staying in the estate.”

  “Ah yes, him. He’s doing some work for me. You’ll be pleased to know that I kept him as far from your chambers as I could without having him stay in the stables. I know of his prurient desires for you. He made some rather lewd comments.”

  For that, at least, she was grateful to the mayor. She reminded herself that everyone she spoke with said Willard was just a good man who lost his way.

  So, she contented herself with just saying “thank you” and returning to the search for Gavin.

  “Ah!” Rollo said, stepping forward to the rail. “Look there. It seems as though our judge has arrived.”

  A ripple of activity crept first through the milieu standing around on the contest grounds. Quickly the excitement spread to those seated in the stands, and even the guards positioned about the grounds began to cheer quietly. They looked over to the mayor, saw him nonreactive, and joined in the growing roar from the rest of the audience. In all the noise and clamor, Kenna too found herself getting excited, even though she’d not managed to find Gavin.

  Rollo stepped close and whispered, “That’s certainly an oddly dressed gentleman to come to a fencing contest, don’t you think?”

  She squinted for a moment before Rollo tapped her on the shoulder and pointed at the spyglass in her lap.

  “Ach!” The instant she looked through the eyepiece and saw Rodrigo’s unmistakably serious face, made even more out of place by the tremendously uncomfortable looking waistcoat and powdered wig he wore, Kenna couldn’t help but smile. “What sort of a difficult costume is that?”

  Rollo shrugged. “Some sort of a colonial governor? Hard to tell. It’ll be interesting to see how he manages against the village’s finest swordsmen dressed up like such a dandy gentleman.”

  Willard finally saw the man he had been looking for. If Kenna had been paying attention, she would have noticed a short, thick man with spindly legs weaving through the crowd. Tilting his head slightly when the sheriff looked up at the box, Willard smiled, knowing that no matter what else happened, no matter what sort of grotesque displays he had to endure, that his plan was swimming right along.

  The crowd cheered wildly, becoming almost infuriated with excitement as Rodrigo easily turned aside every blade and slapped every competitor he came across with the flat of his sword. He moved like water, flowing left, and then right, effortlessly moving away from the groping, sloppy swings of the villagers he faced.

  Elena, John and the others stood laughing and cheering as they watched the Spaniard weave his way through yet another man’s attacks and slap him on the backside with his sword. He spanked the man, and flourished his sword in a dramatic circle around his head. The audience, already loud, exploded with laughter and cheers.

  Gavin’s attention was elsewhere. From where he stood, the Mayor’s box was far enough away that he could see only the vague outlines of people. But, one of those outlines had brilliant, flaming, beautiful red hair.

  “Ach! John! She’s there!” He reached for his friend and grabbed John’s shoulder. “Look there!”

  John’s response was to smile and nod. “We’ll have her back soon,” he said. “Very soon. Dinna worry, aye?”

  “I’ll try. It’s hard though. It’s hard to see her and not be able to go to her and hold her close to me, you know?”

  “Aye, I do. But have faith, Gav. We’ve gotten here, and we’ve got these absurd outfits and Rodrigo’s going through his opponents like a musket in a knife fight.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, John.” Gavin twisted his face into a confused expression. “Why would a musket be in a knife fight?”

  “You see, it’s because if you had a...if you had a musket, but you were at a knife fight, then...er...”

  At once, they both erupted into laughter. “Thanks,” Gavin said. “You’re one of two people that know exactly how to calm me when my nerves get the best of me. I couldna do it without you.”

  “You’d be fine,” John said with a grin. “A little more nervous, but fine. Oh! Look at that! Rodrigo’s beaten another one!”

  Gavin looked away from Kenna long enough to see a big man who wielded a saber far too small for his beefy hands lunge wildly at Rodrigo, who laughed as he twisted to the side and stuck his foot underneath the big Scotsman, tripping him. As soon as the bushy-bearded man hit the ground, Rodrigo tapped him with the flat of his blade to show his victory, and then helped the man to his feet.

  “This man!” he shouted upon rising, loud enough that he rose over the din of the crowd. “This man is the best I’ve ever seen! No one will beat him! Brilliant, sir, you’re brilliant.”

  A moment later, as if on cue, the mayor thumped his cane against the wooden rail he had his hands upon, and the crowd’s noise drained to a low din, then stopped.

  “It looks as though we have our first winner of the day! Wonderful!” Willard sounded excited, but the joy was only in his voice. His face was still drawn, his mouth tight over those strange teeth. “And what an exciting costume. Well done, friend. What are you called?”

  As he had been instructed by Duggan, Rodrigo responded “the Duke of Marlborough!” in an absurd English accent. The crowd erupted in laughter, and at least outwardly, so did the mayor.

  “Very good, Duke of Marlborough, very good. Although you’re looking quite different from when last I saw you – have you gotten a good deal of sun?”

  “Yes mayor, I have. So I have won then?”

  “You have. Congratulations.”

  He swept off his hat, and took a deep, perfectly executed Continental bow.

  “Stand, dear, stand for everyone.” Willard reached back and offered his hand to Kenna. She grasped it and stood, coming near the rail for the first time. “I suppose now is as good a time as any. I was going to wait, but since our victor has paid you such a nice complime
nt...” He threw his voice in such a way that even though he was speaking to Kenna, really, he was speaking to everyone in attendance.

  Kenna waved, visibly uncomfortable.

  “Some of you may have seen this young lady about town the last few days. She came here as a traveler, and was my guest for a dinner party. I was...taken, you could say,” he turned to Kenna and smiled in a way that was obviously less than honest. At a distance though, it was as false as a purple sky. “Taken with her charms, her beauty, and her purity. She’s a truly wonderful young lady, and much to my surprise and to my excitement, she’s agreed to two things. First of all, she agreed to accompany me on my upcoming trip to Jamaica.”

  Gavin turned to John, both of their eyes as wide as saucers. Both of them were thinking the same thing, but neither bothered to express it.

  “I’ve been in negotiations with the fine gentlemen from the East India Company, as many of you have chattered about. We’re entering into an agreement that I believe will be of the utmost benefit to our towns, and to them. We’re going to become the sole source of lumber for Company ships! I’m traveling to Jamaica to finalize the plans, and Kenna has agreed to come with me. Isn’t that wonderful? And on top of that, she’ll be doing it as my wife.”

  A sedate cheer went through the crowd.

  Gavin clenched his fists so tight his fingernails bit into his palms.

  “Everything will be fine,” John said. “Dinna worry, we’re only hours from getting her back. Hours at the outside.”

  Through clenched teeth, Gavin growled, “I’m going to murder him where he stands. He won’t get away with this.”

  “Nay, nay he won’t. He won’t get away with anything, but you’re not going to murder him and if you try I’ll stop you. We’ll do this like we always have. With our wits.”

  “Wits? Our wits? Speak for yourself, Two-fingers. He took Kenna from me. I’ll slit his damned throat before he runs off with her. She’s terrified, John. She’s been kidnapped and she’s terrified. She had to rescue me last time from that foul sheriff, but this time, I’ll be the one doing the saving.”