Highlander's Fate: A Medieval Scottish Historical Highland Romance Book

by Alisa Adams

  It was large and sumptuously furnished, with a silk canopy over the bed and a down coverlet on top of it. The stained glass window panels painted a rainbow hue on everything, and the reddish-brown mahogany paneling on the walls gleamed like satin in the sunlight.

  Lorraine gasped. It was one of the most beautiful rooms she had ever seen.

  "Graha—" But that was as far as she got, for his lips had covered hers and made all speech impossible.

  She moaned her pleasure against his mouth, and he rubbed his body against her, pulling his lips away from hers from time to time to whisper her name and nibble her neck. He paused to undress her and gazed in rapture at the beautiful woman's body now revealed to him. His eyes took in every inch of her, and he shook his head in wonder.

  "I never guessed that you would look as lovely as this," he whispered before undressing himself and laying down on the bed beside her.

  Lorraine could hardly speak – indeed, she could hardly breathe.

  Oh God, she thought. I am going to die of bliss.

  "Lorraine," Graham whispered, "are you all right?"

  She chuckled.

  "Never more have I been so all right, my love," she murmured, arching her body up towards his. "Show me what love is like now, for I can't wait any longer. It's all I've been thinking of."

  "Shall I show you this?" He touched the tender skin of her inner thighs, trailing his fingertips upwards.

  "And this?" He skimmed his lips along the sensitive skin of her breasts and throat then moved them back to her lips, which he parted with his tongue, touching hers in a little dance of delight.

  She laughed and murmured his name, then he looked deeply into her shining eyes.

  Lorraine flattened her palm and rubbed it all over his chest, and the ridged muscles of his stomach, then followed it with her tongue-tip, not knowing if she was doing the right thing or what was making her do it. It seemed to please him, though, because he groaned blissfully and arched his neck back on the pillow.

  "Now, Lorraine, my love?" he murmured.

  "Aye, my love."

  Then she felt a pressure as he eased his manhood inside of her. Graham smiled as he felt the resistance give way. Then he murmured a word of comfort as she stiffened and gripped his arms tightly.

  There was a split second of pain for Lorraine before they began to move with the same rhythm, and a feeling of tension in her body gave way to the waves and waves of pleasure exploding from within her.

  * * *

  She gazed into his eyes and saw the love there which she knew was mirrored in her own.

  When it was over, and they lay sated and at peace, he smiled at her, searching every inch of her face.

  "Was it what you expected?"

  It was a moment before she answered.

  "It was more," Lorraine said joyously, hugging herself. "Much more."

  Moira looked at them with a twinkle in her eye.

  "Oh, dear ladies," she said mischievously, "I predict that the cross-stitch classes around here are going to suffer from now on. Lorraine will have far, far better things to do!"

  "My betrothed will have an estate to run," Lorraine pointed out. "I am not his only concern. Is that not true, Moira?"

  "Indeed." Moira smiled. "The laird's wife is his right hand. She has his babies, runs his household, greets his guests, and disciplines his servants. If there are any problems to be fixed in the household, it usually falls to the laird's wife to fix them. Some ladies can rule with a rod of iron, but I am not one of them! Alexa could be, but she is not in the least bit interested."

  A giggle rippled around the company at the vision of Alexa disciplining the servants.

  Only Mairi did not laugh.

  "Neither does she want babies or the attention o’ a man," she said grimly. "An' that is very wise."

  All the women looked at her.

  "Mairi," Lorraine said with tenderness, "everyone's life is not like yours. There are many happy couples out there."

  "I am no willin' tae take the chance, Moira. No' yet onyway."

  "What about Davie?" Alexa asked. "He is a good man, is he not?"

  Mairi looked sadly into the fire.

  "Mammy said Paw wis a good man once," she replied, "afore the drink an' the Devil himsel’ got him. Efter that, he was jist an evil, evil man. Never thought o' onything but his own pleasure, even if it meant hurtin' somebody else."

  "Davie is not a laird," Alexa pointed out. "He wields nothing like as much power – and you have us to protect you now!"

  Mairi looked at Alexa, wearing her habitual uniform of tunic, hose, and soft leather boots. She knew that in the corner of the room lay her dagger, crossbow, slingshot, and claymore. Alexa may have been small and slight, but she had a presence as big as that of a Viking warrior. Indeed, her blonde hair reinforced the illusion.

  Alexa poured out a glass of wine for everyone and held her glass up.

  "To Mairi!" she said with heart. "And to any other woman who needs our protection. And let it be known all over the land that there will be no more Sutherlands!"

  * * *

  "Aye!" Lorraine, who was coming on very well with her crossbow lessons, cheered louder than everyone else.

  They decided after that to go for a walk in the morning sunshine, all except Moira, who was gently helped to mount one of the quietest horses in the stables. Moira's time was nearly upon her, and she made very few journeys outside now. Her demeanor was serene, although her body ached in every place possible. Why had God seen fit to give this curse to women? She groaned, then the pain eased a little, and she was able to ease the horse into a gentle walk.

  It was an agreeable sight to see the four attractive women walking along the bridle path, even if one of them looked like a boy and one like a very pregnant Madonna!

  All along the road, Moira was greeted by their tenants, and all the women said they would offer up prayers to the Virgin for an easy birth and a safe recovery. Moira felt warmed and comforted by their concern.

  Presently, the figure of Gregor hove into view, accompanied by another, slightly shorter man. As they came closer, the ladies could see that he was dressed in the garb of a monk, with a hooded habit and a girdle of rosary beads around his waist.

  28

  Father Columba

  The women drew up beside the priest, and Gregor and bid them a good day.

  Gregor stood aside and presented the guest.

  "This is Father McCafferty," he said, smiling as he presented the priest.

  The man was small and fair and had a tonsure at the back of his head. He kept his hands modestly folded in front of himself as he smiled demurely at the ladies.

  "God bless you all, mistresses," he said cheerfully. "Do I find you all well?"

  "Extremely so, Father," Alexa replied for all of them, smiling back. "What brings you to my estate?"

  "I am on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. I began a month or so ago by boat from the Shetlands. I still have thousands of miles to go and no doubt there will be much hardship along the way, but to God be the glory! It will be worth it!"

  "God be praised!" the assembled company echoed.

  Father McCafferty smiled benignly. He looked as if everyone in the world were his friend.

  "My Christian name is Columba," he explained, as they walked along, "the Irish saint who colonized the island of Iona and one of the first to bring the faith to Scotland.

  "My mother had a special devotion to him, and I was born on his birthday, so it's special for me too. She died while I was being born, so I hold a special devotion for him.

  "What is his most famous saying?" Lorraine asked mischievously, hoping to catch him out. Some priests were not as learned as they made out to be.

  But Columba laughed.

  "Tenebit me dextera tua," he replied quickly in fluent Latin, smiling at her. "Thy right hand shall uphold me."

  "You won't mind staying at the castle for a while, Father?" Moira asked. "It needs to be blessed and sanctified, an
d it would be good to have a priest around us for a while. I am near my time now and will need the baby to be baptized. So will you accept our invitation?"

  Columba McCarthy looked doubtful for a moment.

  "I would love to," he said, although his tone matched his countenance, "but I eat bread, fish, fruit, and vegetables, and drink only milk."

  "I think we can supply all those things." Alexa smiled at him. "So, Father, will you come? We may need some baptisms done too."

  "Do you not have a regular priest?" Columba asked, looking around them as if he would find one underneath a bush.

  "He is on retreat at the moment," Alexa answered.

  Columba clapped his hands together and smiled.

  "Then I can offer my services to you. But I insist on one thing: I am a monk, and I live a life of poverty and chastity. I want to sleep in a servant's room with one bed, or sharing with others."

  "Sounds like oor hoose," Mairi muttered.

  "If you insist, Father," Moira replied happily.

  "Then I will be happy to come and dine with you." Columba McCarthy smiled.

  They began to walk back to the castle while the priest told them of the journey he had made so far. He would not be following a straight route, he told them, but visiting all the holy sites in Scotland on his way to the Holy Land.

  They listened to Columba all the way to Castle Drummond, and he proved to be an excellent raconteur, keeping them all in stitches on the last mile or so before the estate.

  By the time they arrived, they had heard about a family of his parishioners who had insisted on imitating Jesus and being totally immersed, for baptism. However, since the River Jordan was too far away, they insisted on the Atlantic Ocean. The entire clan nearly died of cold!

  "You must please tell us this story again when we get home!" Moira laughed. "My husband would love to hear it! What happened to them?"

  Columba sighed, then smiled with mischief.

  "I never heard of them again," he confessed, shrugging. "But I somehow doubt that they had any more children!"

  The ladies burst out laughing.

  "Are any of you getting married?" Columba asked, raising his eyebrows.

  "I am." Lorraine put up her hand, beaming from ear to ear.

  "I am undecided," Mairi replied.

  "No!" Alexa said decisively.

  Columba looked at her, puzzled.

  "But why?" he asked, curious. "Surely you wish to have children?

  "No, Father." She looked him dead in the eye. "I don't."

  For a moment, he was nonplussed. His eyes wandered over her face questioningly.

  "I have never met a woman like you before. It is against nature." He frowned at her, half-smiling.

  She shrugged, then smiled. "I am a maverick. And I have no intention of hanging around the Highlands of Scotland forever. There are adventures to be had out there! Ships to be sailed – battles to be fought."

  Columba looked chastened.

  "I'm sorry," Alexa said, smiling at him again. "Everybody thinks I'm mad!"

  Columba smiled.

  "No more so than I!" He laughed.

  When they got to the courtyard, one of the grooms had to help Moira down – since she was by now so huge that she could barely manage to do so by herself.

  A few moments later, Iain came out in a big hurry, raising his eyebrows in surprise as he saw the priest.

  "Father," he said, crossing himself and looking absolutely mystified.

  "My husband, Laird Iain Drummond," Moira said proudly. "On the road, we met Father Columba McCarthy."

  Iain smiled widely and held out his hands to grasp the priest's.

  "Welcome, Father," he said with warmth. "Will you take some refreshment with us now? And will you say Mass for us tonight?"

  "Yes, to both questions!" Columba answered, laughing.

  Columba went inside with them, where he gazed in wonder at the great vaults and pillars of the entrance hall.

  After he had said grace, they ate a humble meal of bannocks and cheese. He drank water while the others had wine.

  They were eager to hear about his exploits on the sea journey from Lerwick, capital of the Shetland Isles, where he served in a very big monastery called St. Saviour's.

  This monastery brewed ale and barley wine and kept goats for cheese and meat and sheep for wool, much of which was sent to the rich wool merchants in Flanders. It was even said that a certain kind of woman went there to ply her trade as long as confession was administered afterward!

  It was extremely rich, as were most monasteries at that time – since the rich families would often give gifts of precious altar ornaments and acres of land to the church in order to buy their way into heaven.

  The monks ate rich meat, drank the finest wine, and seasoned their food with pepper, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Columba had felt that this establishment did not conform to the rule of St Benedict, that of austerity and obedience, but then very few monastic establishments did.

  He, however, loved the orderly, ascetic way of living as espoused by the rule of St Benedict, so rather than ask permission to renounce his vows, he had begged leave to go on pilgrimage to the Holy Land and Rome. His abbot, Father Duncan, feigning dismay, let him go with apparently obvious reluctance but inner relief. Father Columba was far too pious for his liking!

  "But that will take years!" Alexa said, shocked. "You may never get there."

  Columba smiled gently.

  "I may not," he said, looking at her frankly. "But if God decides that I must die, then He will take me to His side at the appointed time, and I will be happy to go. This earthly life is only a preparation for paradise, after all."

  Here is a man who truly practices what he preaches, Alexa thought with admiration.

  He caught her smiling at him and blushed, then fell to eating his food again.

  "Father," Lorraine said, "I have heard that many monks have skills as healers and herbalists. Is that true?"

  He nodded.

  "We do our best with the gifts God has given us," he replied, "but, of course, He has the final say in all matters."

  Iain looked at him, hopeful.

  "Do you attend to ladies in childbirth?" he asked nervously.

  Columba looked surprised.

  "Yes, but not often," he answered carefully. "Because the village usually has a midwife."

  "She is busy and not always available," Iain said, still worried, "and with two of you, I am sure it will be much easier. Will you stay for a while, Father?"

  "I am due to give birth very soon," Moira coaxed.

  The priest looked at her and shook his head, smiling.

  "You know…" He put his hands over hers. "The Lord gave men the ability to resist good food and strong wine if we have to – but beautiful ladies…" He sighed. "We are powerless! Of course, I will stay – for as long as you need me."

  "Father," Alexa observed, "He also endowed you with considerable skill in the area of flirting!"

  This caused a gale of laughter, and they dispersed to their quarters.

  Alexa offered to show Columba a small lady’s maid's room upstairs, but he declined in favor of a room in the basement of the castle which he would share with two other men, both gardeners. There were straw mattresses for the three of them and a pile of horse blankets.

  "You want to sleep here?" Alexa asked in disbelief.

  "Yes," he replied, smiling. "Our Lord and Savior was born in a stable, a very humble place. If it was good enough for Him, it is certainly good enough for me."

  "Your faith touches me, Father. I am humbled by it."

  He gave her a little bow and changed the subject.

  "You said you would never be married. Why not?"

  She sighed.

  "I was betrothed," she answered. "Then I thought I loved someone else, but I was wrong. Then I saw a situation where the marriage was nothing like a marriage at all. Mairi comes from that union.

  "Her brothers and sisters were beaten and abused
, and her mother raped. He was an outlaw who raided all the local farms and stole their produce. Strangely enough, her father loved her, but she helped us catch him and he hanged, but she will never be the same as other people. I have learned to defend myself in every way, and no man will ever beat me in the bedchamber or by the strength of his body."

  Father Columba was silent for a moment.

  "Do you not like men, Alexa?"

  "Hmmm…" She tilted her head to consider the question. "I think there is good and bad in every person, Father, but in my own experience, most of the evil in this world has been done by men."

  Columba sighed.

  "Mayhap you are right, mistress, but always blamed on women."

  "You are a very charitable man, Father." Alexa smiled at him.

  "No," he replied, as she knew he would. "I believe the Bible is a book of love. Adam and Eve were representatives of all of us, but because of the story of the serpent and the tree, men have made women responsible for every sin, and because of that, they must suffer in childbirth. God is a being of love, and I do not believe he meant all women to be regarded as temptresses."

  Alexa listened to his earnest words, full of love and compassion, and felt something in herself shift. Here was goodness, pure and simple.

  "And why did you not marry, Father?" she asked.

  He smiled at her.

  "I did," he said simply. "I married God, who is neither man nor woman, but pure love."

  29

  Dinner with a Monk

  "Thank you for the invitation, Alexa," Columba said kindly, "but you know my food preferences. I fear your guests would be offended."

  "Father." She sighed. "My guests know me, and I have had much worse people than a chaste monk at our table. There was a sailor once who ate with his hands, and an Italian merchant who brought us squid to eat.

  "Everyone politely swallowed it, and everyone was sick afterward, except me. I loved it. So please come. There will not be too many of us there, and you have already met most of us – oh, and remember, you are saying Mass too."