Highland Blazing: A Scottish Historical Highlander Romance Collection

by Raina Wilde

  Her memory lit upon an elderly woman who lived in a village not far from the estate, who maintained the right to buy and sell her own goods, just like any man. If Skye had not been born to a prominent family, she wondered, would that lifestyle have been available to her?

  There was a soft knock on the door before Deirdre entered. She looked every bit the lady that Skye was trying to imitate. Her glossy black hair spilled over her shoulder in an intricate braid that was adorned with tiny white flowers and glittering pins that shimmered when she turned her head. A pale green gown with the dark pattern of vines over a crème inlay made Deirdre look like some woodland nymph who had wandered into the castle from the depths of the forest. The effect was overwhelmingly elegant.

  “I come bearing gifts for your nerves.” Deirdre giggled, pulling a small flask from the sleeve of her gown. She perched on the edge of the bed and took a small drink while patting the coverlet beside her. Skye sat and accepted the proffered container. The liquor burned her throat and she gasped, the fiery liquid blazing from her lips all the way to the pit of her stomach.

  “It does take some getting used to.” Deirdre laughed and sipped lightly from the flask once more. Skye realized that she had made the mistake of taking too large a drink of the vicious liquid.

  “I think I’ll stick to wine.” Skye joined in her friend’s laughter.

  “Nonsense. Unless you’ve suddenly taken a liking to dancing and crowds?” Deirdre raised an eyebrow and waved the drink enticingly in the air.

  Skye grimaced. Dancing. She hated dancing. She had a habit of feeling paralyzed with fear in large crowds and the thought of trying to weave through the chaos of the dance floor made her head spin. Skye snatched the flask and took another drink. This time she was prepared for it, the burn and tingle. Deirdre let out a sharp chortle.

  “Still afraid of dancing? So, you haven’t truly shifted into a lady then!” she exclaimed as if the thought was a source of relief. Deirdre wrapped an arm around Skye’s bare shoulders and pulled their sides together. “Well, I enjoy dancing enough for the both of us.” Deirdre stood and pulled Skye toward the door. “Shall we?”

  They strolled, arm in arm, down the dark staircase and through the corridors toward the great hall. Skye could hear the raucous crowd gathered inside and her heart began to beat unnaturally fast.

  As they paused before entering, Deirdre smiled. “You look exactly like your mother tonight.” Skye allowed herself to be pulled into the hall by her friend. A hundred pairs of eyes turned on them and the roar of the room sank to a gentle hum. Deirdre steered them through the throngs of tables toward the far end of the hall. There, the Laird MacConaill sat surrounded by his family, and honored guests. Two seats remained at the table, waiting for the women to occupy them.

  As Skye sank into her cushioned seat she breathed a sigh of relief. She had made it to the table without making a blundering fool of herself. Skye was seated between Deirdre and Aiden, her brother Teirnan was deep in conversation with Greum and The MacConaill further down the long table. Skye was relieved that she was not seated amongst strangers, despite the fact that Aiden had not recognized her earlier in the day. To be honest, it had not surprised her. The last time that she had been to the castle only the Laird, his wife, and daughter had been present. The sons had been away in a clash against the McKinnons, a brutish clan whose lands bordered their own.

  It had been nearly twelve years since the MacConaill had sent his children to summer at the Laramie estate. All travel after the death of the Laird of Clan Sutharlainn had been cautiously restricted by the MacConaill, who feared retaliation for a crime that had not been his doing.

  Dinner passed by before she realized it. The hearty meal, flowing wine and pleasant conversation did well to set her nerves at ease. Skye was even beginning to enjoy Aiden’s lighthearted banter when the musicians sat down to begin the night’s entertainment.

  Not five chords had been struck when two slightly drunken men came to ask the women for a dance. Deirdre laughed and promised to join for the next song, claiming to need a moment of rest after such a plentiful meal. Skye was relieved to share in her excuse, and likewise remained at the table.

  When the second song began Deirdre was quickly enticed into the center of the hall, where a large portion of the small tables had been cleared away to make space for the raucous dancing. Skye was petitioned once again, and with a smile she declined. Three or four refusals later, Skye realized that Aiden was watching the exchanges with amused interest.

  “You’ll be out of excuses before long,” He laughed. “And then what?”

  She sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking out at the crowd of people weaving and spinning with ease.

  “Dancing is not a skill I’ve yet mastered.” She admitted.

  Aiden smiled. Unconsciously, Skye took note of the fact that he had grown to be a surprisingly attractive man. His muscles had filled out in a way that she found surprisingly appealing. His shoulders were wide and strong, though he was still lean at the waist, and his pale hair, like hers, stood in stark contrast to the table of dark heads.

  She remembered one summer, Aiden had been skinny and too tall for his age, when he and Teirnan had been practicing their ability to control the transition between their human and animal forms. One night, Teirnan had not returned home. Her father had told her not to worry, that it often took boys entire nights to truly control the transformation, but Skye had worried just the same. All night she had waited at the doorway, but he did not return. In the morning she took up her bow and decided to search for him; to calm the fear in his spirit, which her father said was the only way to truly return from the beast form.

  She had wandered into the woods and found, near a small river where the children often swam, two bears curled beneath a large tree. They were larger than cubs, finally beginning to grow into formidable creatures. But they were thin and awkward, like their human counterparts. Skye stared at the two creatures and her heart had went out to them both. Her brother, who had been struggling with the transition for months, forced to spend the night away from the warmth and comfort of the castle, and his friend, who had chosen to weather the night here beside him.

  At the time Skye had not known who the tawny bear had been but she had been overwhelmed with gratitude just the same. How she had wished that women were able to shift as the men did, that she might have been able to survive a night in the dangerous woods. She had already been working to learn the lay of the land, to hunt and survive as well as the lads.

  When her brother had finally shifted, Skye had known to make a quick exit. The transition left the men of Clan MacConaill nude in the elements, until they could retrieve their hidden kilts from the forest. Teirnan was l7ying prostrate on the ground, when he voiced his thanks and waited for Skye to leave. As she walked past the remaining bear, she had run her fingers softly up the length of his muzzle, much as if he were a dog or horse. He had nudged her hand with his snout, revealing that he understood her appreciation, before she had disappeared into the woods. Had she known the bear was Aiden MacConaill, she would never have touched him. Petting the bear forms of men was something strictly limited to immediate family, or lovers. Skye had risked the act for what she had thought was another boy of the estate, one which would have respected her action because she was daughter of the Laird. Instead, she had stroked Aiden, her superior. She shuddered to think of the repercussions of her actions if he had been offended.

  “Skye?” Aiden’s smooth, deep voice broke her from her reverie.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head to clear it. “What did you say?”

  “I said that it appears that you have mastered a great many skills since we were children.” He repeated.

  “Oh,” she blushed at the compliment. Of course he remembered her clumsy childhood. “I’m afraid moving my feet under a gown without falling is not one of them.”

  Aiden let out a loud burst of laughter. He pushed his chair back, stood, and offered h
er his hand.

  “What? No.” Skye panicked, forgetting to gently decline as she had previously. She mentally berated herself for the rude response. “What I mean is…” But Aiden did not give her a chance to continue.

  “Come on.” He pulled the napkin, which she had been twisting with anxiety, from her hands and tugged her to her feet. The force of the action brought their bodies extremely close and Skye had to throw her free hand against his chest to stop herself from falling against him. She quickly pulled her hand away, as if burned.

  Skye’s eyes darted to meet his and she tried to pull her fingers from his grasp.

  “I promise that I won’t let you fall.” His charming half-grin sent a flutter to her stomach.

  “Aiden, I…” she began to protest, but he was already pulling her toward the dance floor and somehow her feet were following willingly. In the next instant she was swept into his arms and they were gliding among the crowd. Skye tried to look down at the whirl of their feet but she stumbled. Aiden’s arms remained locked under her own and the frame he had created kept her on her feet.

  “Look at me.” He commanded.

  She raised her eyes, filled with doubt, to his.

  Slowly, he pulled her against him. The move would appear intimate to an onlooker, but Aiden used the motion to speak softly in her ear.

  “Lean on my arms. I’ll guide you.”

  Skye dropped her forehead to his shoulder in embarrassment. It rested there for only a moment before she looked at him again with a wary glance. He nodded, encouraging her to follow his instructions.

  She allowed her arms to drop against his and used the upper body strength acquired from hunting to press her weight down against his forearms. She was surprised when the pressure appeared to have no effect on him. His frame lifted her slightly so that her feet skimmed the ground lightly. As Aiden twirled her around the floor, Skye’s feet kept up with his. When she missed a step, or her foot fumbled beneath them, Aiden’s grasp guided her back into balance and carried her on as if nothing had happened. To the onlooker, they would appear to be perfectly skilled dancing partners. It would be nearly undetectable that Aiden was all but carrying Skye across the floor.

  After a few minutes of embarrassment, Skye felt a giggle burst from inside of her. She looked up at her partner with happy surprise. She was actually enjoying herself. Aiden looked down at her with a matching grin and his arms tightened around her. He whipped her around once more, her skirts flying out behind her in elegant folds, and for once Skye felt like a beautiful dancer. As the song finally ended she found herself wishing that it would go on.

  Aiden released her and they stood facing each other on the floor.

  “Thank you, for that.” Skye spoke in a soft voice, her eyes fixed on her hands.

  “Well, now you’ve danced.” Aiden spoke with a nonchalance that had Skye raising her eyes in confusion. “You can go back to refusing partners and claim that you’ve had your fill for the night and no one will be the wiser.”

  Skye’s heart sank. It was clear that Aiden had not enjoyed the activity as much as she had thought, as much as she had. He bowed his head in a sharp nod and excused himself. Skye watched him leave the dance floor, and then the hall altogether. He did not return for the rest of the night.

  Two days later, Skye wandered into the darkened castle study to look for a book to keep her entertained while her brother discussed business with the Laird. The long room was darkened in the night. The only source of light was a large fire in the hearth and a small candle at the far end of the room. Skye stepped quietly into the room, determined not to bother the sole occupant at the far end. The Laird was often found reading, Skye remembered Deirdre’s information. She lit a candle of her own and began to move along the shelves in search of her choice.

  It was not until he shifted into the light of his own candle that Skye realized that it was Aiden who sat reading in the corner. She turned quickly to leave, when he spoke.

  “Why haven’t you been hunting while you are here?” He asked.

  She turned toward him and shrugged, her arms crossed over the book that she held against the front of her body. He rose from the chair, set his book on the nearby table, and approached her.

  “We have excellent hunting in the forest around the castle.” He came to stand a short distance away. “Greum and Cat were attacked by wolves not six months passed. The men have had a difficult time getting rid of them. Maybe you could solve the problem as you did with the wolves near your home?”

  Skye felt her mouth drop open at Aiden’s suggestion. It was true that hunting a wolf from a distance was more effective than fighting them in bear form. Wolves were fast, vicious, and they traveled in packs. While the clansmen did often work in pairs, it was not often that you would see more than two bears at a time. Still, Skye thought it strange that Aiden would suggest, and even encourage, what her father called an un-feminine interest.

  “Aiden, I don’t hunt anymore.” Skye admitted. She tried to keep the sadness from her voice but suspected that Aiden could detect it.

  “What do you mean? You just brought all of those pelts for Cat.”

  “Well, I did hunt,” she shrugged, “but shortly after, my father…” She closed her eyes. Skye did not know how to explain without speaking poorly of her father. Despite his beliefs she loved him too much to speak ill of him.

  When Aiden’s hands closed around her shoulders, her eyes snapped open.

  “He took away your bow.” Aiden finished for her. It was a statement, not a question.

  Skye nodded. “And…” She looked down and grasped the skirt of her gown, spreading it out to her sides.

  Aiden chewed his lip, in thought.

  “I suppose you can’t hunt in a gown, can you?” There was an edge of laughter in his tone that lightened the ache in Skye’s heart. Yes, her father had taken away her English-style pants, the clothing that allowed her to move so freely in pursuit of her prey.

  “I suppose not.” She smiled. Somehow, Aiden’s tone of understanding, rather than reproach, had made her feel better.

  It suddenly occurred to her that Aiden’s hands were still resting on her shoulders. Their gazes locked and Skye found that the air had thickened by some strange force. She found it hard to breathe. Aiden was staring at her as he had never done before, as no man had, with a look that bore into her very soul. Skye tried to swallow past the lump in her throat but found that difficult as well. In a sheer panic she grasped at something to say to break the terrifying silence—anything at all.

  “Aiden, about the other evening…” Skye had no idea what she was going to say. Before she had a chance to plan her apology, Aiden’s mouth came crashing down over her own. The initial impact was abrupt, almost as if his decision had been made only that instant, but a moment later the kiss softened into the most intoxicating combination of passion and restraint. Skye found that her hands had risen to grasp his elbows. She, once again, was using his strength to steady herself. Though they were standing still, the effect of his kiss was much the same as dancing. Skye’s head spun and she felt as if the room was moving around them.

  Aiden adjusted the angle of his head to better accommodate her shorter stature. Skye’s unconscious reaction was to lean into him, their bodies pressed against each other in every possible location. His hands dove into the waves of hair at the base of her neck before trailing a tantalizing path down the base of her spine. Never had she been kissed like this before. A soft peck or lingering pressure, perhaps, but never with blazing passion that left her skin burning in every place that he touched.

  Skye felt his tongue against her lips. The sensation was entirely foreign to her limited experience, but she found her mouth opening against his. When it crossed the threshold into her own mouth, Skye gasped against him. She felt Aiden tense in her arms, preparing to pull away, when Skye pressed her mouth forcefully against his and returned the gesture. The action was all the encouragement that he needed. Aiden’s arms crossed behi
nd her back and he pulled her more fully against him.

  Skye was reeling. Never would she have imagined that she would be kissing Aiden MacConaill in a darkened study. Never would it have occurred to her that they would share such a visceral reaction. If anything, she had worked to avoid Aiden after that day in the woods, long ago.

  Her arms found their way around his neck. Skye was practically lifted off the ground as Aiden’s solid strength raised her closer to his own height. She felt the distinctive hardening beneath his kilt. She would have expected it to frighten her, but it did not. Instead, Skye smiled against his mouth with the knowledge that she could affect him in such a way. Whether he disappeared this time, or not, there would be no question as to his enjoyment.

  The creak of the door handle behind her had Aiden breaking their contact with a blink of an eye. Before Skye had a chance to react, Aiden had spun her behind him so that her body was blocked from the view of the doorway. Thankfully, the darkened room and her deep blue gown, kept the line of her skirts from showing behind him. Skye grasped the back of his shirt and pressed her forehead into his back. The mortification of what they had been doing washed over her as she listened to his brief conversation with the scullery maid who had come to tend the fire. With a quick word of dismissal, the maid left the room and Skye felt Aiden take a deep breath.

  Slowly, he turned to face her and wrapped Skye’s trembling shoulders in his embrace. His chin settled against her hair and with slow strokes of his hand over the locks, he soothed her nerves.

  She shuddered to think of Teirnan’s reaction if they had been discovered.

  With a deep breath and a firm set to her shoulders, Skye pulled away.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” She muttered, slipping around Aiden and heading for the door.

  “Wait, Skye…” Aiden hooked a hand around her elbow to stop her. She turned but did not meet his eyes. She was grateful that the room was so dark. Skye knew, without a doubt, that her pale skin was covered in a deep blush.