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

by Alisa Adams

  "Never! I will always love you, Shona McGregor," Alexa said tenderly.

  "An’ I ye, Alexa Montgomery Chevalier!"

  After a brief hug and kiss from Lachlan, they were ready to go. Annabelle, who was going to stay a few more days, was tearfully hugging Auguste, and he was speaking to her softly in French.

  She nodded then came towards Alexa, smiling and holding out her hands.

  Alexa took them in hers, and they looked at each other for a moment.

  "Thank you for making him so happy," Annabelle said. "You do not know how much it means to me. I hated you at first – but maybe in a while, we can learn to be sisters."

  "I would like that." Alexa hugged her, smiling, then moved over to where her husband was waiting for her.

  "Time to go, sweetheart!" she said with eagerness. "Our ship might leave without us.

  Then, thoroughly packed and provisioned, they rode out of Castle Ness.

  "They will be back soon," Shona prophesied cheerfully. "Wi' one mair mouth tae feed. Mark my words!"

  43

  Road To The Sea

  They rode all day in the soft snow, but fortunately, Father Ferguson's gloomy prediction of a two-feet deep blizzard did not come to pass.

  They ate their provisions on the road and stopped only once to eat and refresh themselves.

  Alexa kept glancing to her right to look at the man riding beside her, still not able to believe that this was her husband. Alexa Chevalier had still not quite grown into her married name, and there was still a faint air of unreality about her new status. But she was smiling even though her face was almost frozen.

  Auguste felt her eyes on him and turned to look at her.

  "Madame Chevalier," he asked darkly, "what mischief are you planning?"

  "Rien du tout, monsieur. C'est trop froid!" she said regretfully. "Nothing at all, sir. It's too cold!"

  Then she giggled, and he joined in.

  Auguste, too, was finding his new matrimonial state very strange, but in a good way. The last woman he'd truly loved had been Mariette. His second marriage to Ursule had been born out of fear of being alone.

  Before Alexa came, there had been years of loneliness, and he had learned to live with it and even become comfortable with it. He had become afraid of change.

  However, the last two days had made him wonder how he could ever have managed to cope without a woman in his bed and in his heart. He knew now with utter certainty that he would never be lonely again, and he felt a surge of joy so powerful that he had to stop himself crying out with it.

  They stayed that evening in the only inn they could find, The Fleece, which was not well-decorated, warm or even cheap, but had four walls and a roof to recommend it. They squeezed themselves into a bedroom with two other sets of complete strangers and went to sleep within seconds, bodies spooned together on the bare floorboards.

  * * *

  At some time during the night, Auguste woke up to find that Alexa had turned over in her sleep and was facing him. She was dreaming, laughing softly and shaking her head. He closed his eyes and drew the blanket up over both of them, thinking ahead to years and years of nights like this. He sighed with contentment.

  * * *

  In the morning, they found that the snow had stopped, and the ground underfoot was hard and dry, perfect for the horses' hooves.

  "We should make good progress today," Auguste observed, "so let us eat and be on our way."

  Alexa had to force herself to eat the gray sludgy mass that was laughingly called porridge, but she managed it somehow.

  "If we ever pass this way again, Auguste," she said with dryness, "remind me not to put anything from this establishment in my mouth. I feel as if I have just swallowed a large stone!"

  They reached the port of Peterhead when they had been traveling for three days, and spent the night at a slightly more luxurious establishment that night before going to see their ship, 'Le Bijou', in the afternoon.

  Alexa had never seen such a massive vessel before. She had lived in a castle all her life, so she was used to things on a large scale, but to see these miles and miles of sails with their tracery of ropes, riggings, and pulleys silhouetted against the sky was truly majestic. She watched one sailor run up a rope ladder effortlessly and thought how fit these wiry men must be. They never stopped working for a moment.

  "Do you get seasick, Auguste?" she asked.

  It was the only thing that scared her. She had been very cavalier about it when it seemed that there was absolutely no chance of her ever going to sea under any circumstances, but now she had to admit she was feeling afraid.

  "Sometimes, if there is a storm," he admitted. "Otherwise, I am quite a good sailor. But do not worry, ma petite – there is a herb or spice for everything. And if all else fails… there is a bucket!"

  She looked up into his smiling green eyes and thought how lucky she was.

  "You must treat me with great tenderness if I become sick," she warned him. "Because Scottish ladies can turn into dragons when ill! Now, I want to see my bunk – er – berth – er – cabin!"

  "I can well believe it!" He cowered back in mock-terror, then led her down an echoing flight of wooden stairs, and opened the door of a surprisingly large room with a curtained and canopied bed at one end.

  It was gorgeously carved from mahogany, and the counterpane was silken. There were sea chests for storage as well as comfortable couches and chairs, all fixed firmly to the floor.

  She could see cupboards where breakables were kept behind locked doors in case of rough seas. Everything was practical but beautiful, and she loved it.

  "This is not what I expected at all, Auguste," she said with rapture. "Look at this luxury! It's – it's perfect!"

  Her eyes were shining, and he felt a sudden upswelling of love.

  "Thank you!" She kissed him tenderly.

  "I wanted it to be the most special room on the ship," he said proudly. "Because it is a honeymoon too. This is our love nest. And look!"

  Auguste had wanted to have the best of everything, so he had ordered a case of Madeira wine for their journey, several wheels of local cheeses, nuts, and a crate of preserved fruit.

  "I do this every time," he told her. "Sometimes sea voyages can be so tedious, and a little something to look forward to is always good. Of course, now that I have you…"

  He nuzzled into her neck, laughing wickedly, and she giggled then pushed him away.

  "Good things are worth waiting for!" she said, eyes twinkling.

  The view outside was of a bustling, busy harbor where crates and barrels were being rolled, hoisted and dragged. Sweating laborers balanced impossibly huge loads on their shoulders, and great dray horses pulled carts stacked with all kinds of merchandise from logs to furs to clay jars of unknown substances. It was fascinating.

  Seagulls wheeled overhead, mewling and screeching, diving down in daring forays for scraps of any edible thing they could find. They were not flocks. They were armies! Alexa found them comical.

  She had never seen ropes that were six inches thick before or chains with links the size of a man's head. Neither had she ever seen cat-size rats either!

  "Do you get those on the ship too?" she asked fearfully, as she saw a fat one running down a thick rope.

  "Yes, but mainly in the lower decks and cargo holds," Auguste reassured her. "They mainly go where there is food to be had, but we have a small army of cats on board too, and they have to earn their keep."

  Alexa shuddered, but Auguste came around behind her and put his arms around her waist.

  "Are you afraid?" he murmured.

  "A little… I have never been on a ship before, and those rats are a bit… repulsive!"

  "My poor little one!" He laid his cheek on her hair. "If you see one, call me. I have a cure for rats."

  "What is it?"

  "It's a secret," he whispered. "But I have my own methods of destruction!"

  Just then the ship listed a little, causing Alexa to stu
mble sideways. It righted itself at once, and she slid back again. So did Auguste.

  "Is this normal?" she asked, anxious.

  "Yes. You just do not have your sea legs yet!"

  "Sea legs?" She was mystified.

  He laughed heartily at that.

  "Yes. You have to learn to walk on a ship's deck. It will take a bit of practice, but you will be fine in a few days."

  "What about storms?"

  "Ma Chère Alexa." He ran a hand over her shining blonde hair as he spoke. "We cannot stop them, but if I tell you I will hold you very tight, will that be enough?"

  She nodded happily.

  They spent that night on board the ship, and Alexa loved the sound of the creaking of the ropes, the whisper of the wind through the riggings and the flapping of the sails. The sea slapped against the side of the boat's hull, lending another note to the melody of harbor noises. She could hear the singing and laughing of the crew as they bedded themselves down for the night in their hammocks on the gun deck.

  There was a tang of salt and seaweed in the air, and Alexa knew that whenever she smelled that again, she would immediately be transported back to the first night on a stately galleon with her new husband.

  She would relive their passionate lovemaking and the sweet afterglow as they lay entwined in each other’s arms and the gentle waters of the harbor rocked them to sleep.

  A warm glow of contentment had settled just underneath her heart as she gave into sleep.

  She whispered, "I love you, sweetheart, forever and always."

  * * *

  Auguste woke up first next morning, and for a few moments, he forgot where he was. In the dead of winter, it was still dark till the middle of the morning in the Highlands. He listened to the sounds of the harbor and smiled. It might not be Genoa or Cherbourg or any of the sun-drenched Mediterranean ports, but wherever Alexa laid her head was his home from now on.

  He had initially disliked this gray and frozen place, but the more he got used to it the more he liked it. He realized that it would take him a while to get used to its rugged beauty and gruff but friendly people, but he had a feeling that he would be seeing a lot of Scotland from now on.

  Alexa was lying on her back, arms outflung on the pillow on either side of her head, cheeks pink and flushed.

  She looks a bit like a doll, he thought. She is so perfectly sculpted.

  How he loved her! And yet this was the woman who had ambushed him on the road and threatened to kill him – then given him a bowl of porridge! What a woman! He laughed inwardly. He should have known right there and then what a soft center she had.

  He got up quietly and washed, then ordered some breakfast from the galley for both of them. Alexa was still fast asleep, but strangely enough, he felt no passion for her at that moment, even though she looked absolutely adorable. All he wanted to do was sit by her side and look at her.

  * * *

  Breakfast surpassed expectations. There were bannocks with freshly made butter, scrambled eggs, black pudding (a delicacy whose appeal escaped Auguste!) and herring rolled in oatmeal.

  Auguste gentle woke Alexa, who emerged from sleep so charmingly disheveled and appealing that Auguste began to feel the stirrings of passion again.

  "Good morning, madame," Auguste greeted her. "I have ordered a little petit déjeuner for us."

  "Thank you!" Alexa said fervently. "I am absolutely ravenous!"

  They ate silently with rapt concentration.

  Auguste found Alexa's utter single-mindedness when she was eating very amusing and also very refreshing. It was so unusual to see a high-born lady do anything but pick daintily at a morsel or two.

  "When are we leaving?" Alexa asked between mouthfuls.

  "The tide is coming in now," Auguste replied. "So I think around midday. I will check with the captain or one of the sailors." He looked at Alexa's empty plate.

  "I see that the motion of the water has not upset your stomach," he added mischievously.

  "No, but it seems to have worried yours!" she replied smartly, looking at the two rounds of black pudding reposing in solitary splendor on the otherwise pristine plate.

  He wrinkled his nose. "It's made of blood!".

  "Oh, well. Waste not, want not!"

  Then she made short work of the two small pieces while he laughed.

  "You do not eat like a lady!"

  "So I'm told," Alexa replied airily, licking her fingers. She went to get a goblet of ale and poured one for him. "I'll worry about it when I am dead."

  44

  Off With The Tide

  ‘Le Bijou’ set off with the morning tide, and Alexa watched, fascinated, as the sails, formerly as slack as empty sacks, became stretched taut as they filled with the sharp breeze.

  The land receded quickly, and before long what had been a bustling port had dwindled to a spot on the shoreline before the shoreline itself disappeared, and they were in the open ocean.

  The motion of the ship meant that she often had to stand still with her legs apart for balance and occasionally windmill her arms to stop herself from falling down. That was a maneuver that did not always succeed, however, and Alexa spent quite a lot of her time sitting on her backside on the deck in the first few days before she grew her 'sea legs.' Auguste was always there to pick her up and dust her down though.

  Seasickness, on the other hand, was another matter. After finally acquiring the ability to stay upright most of the time, Alexa was still battling constant bouts of nausea. Auguste had brought along copious amounts of preserved ginger, which helped just enough for her to keep her food down.

  On the fifth day out of port, Alexa experienced her first storm. She could see the clouds gathering far out to sea, great purple billows that ran in towering banks along the horizon.

  As the ship approached them, they became darker and darker till the sky was a solid purple-gray wall. The wind was howling like a pack of wolves, and the ship bucked and shuddered as her bow rode to the crest of a giant wave only to fall into the trough on the other side. Auguste locked and bolted their cabin doors then told Alexa to get into bed.

  "We are going to tie ourselves in," he said firmly. "Otherwise, we will be tossed about like rag dolls. "

  He tied some strong sisal rope to the bedpost, then, with Alexa's help, he passed it under and over the bed and their bodies several times. They were as secure as they could be under the circumstances, but it did not lessen their fear. Auguste had been through this before, but for Alexa, it was a new and terrifying experience.

  She had forgotten her nausea; she was trembling uncontrollably and buried her face in Auguste's chest and clung to him so tightly that his upper arms carried bruises from her fingertips for days.

  They could hear the sailors running around outside shouting to be heard above the screaming of the wind, and water was being blown in great rivers three feet deep across the deck.

  "I will not say 'Do not be afraid, Alexa'," Auguste said as softly as he could above the noise, "because that would be foolish. But we are together, and if these are our last moments, we will be together for eternity."

  She nodded against him, trying to feel comforted, and suddenly remembered something. For no particular reason, she had put Shona's stone under her pillow. Now she took it out, held it tightly in her hand and visualized Shona's mischievous smile. She smiled back and almost waved – the image was so real, and a tremendous calm came over her.

  She stopped trembling.

  Auguste felt the change in his wife and looked down at her face. It looked happy, and she was clutching Shona's green stone like a talisman, which perhaps it was. Whatever it was, it had worked some kind of magic on Alexa.

  She sighed and lay still in his arms.

  The storm blew itself out after another few hours, leaving a clean blue sky and a tranquil green sea behind it. It was as if it had never been.

  They walked out on deck and saw the crew brushing seawater over the side and trimming the sails again. There wa
s an orderly routine to everything, and everyone knew what to do and how to do it. Alexa found that it was immensely comforting.

  "Have you been through worse storms?" she asked.

  "I was in a ship that was almost wrecked once," Auguste answered. "But fortunately the wind changed before we hit the rocks."

  He was looking out to sea, and his face was tranquil.

  "Most sailors do these trips hundreds of times a year and are still well and healthy. Any travel on a ship brings danger, chèrie. Unfortunately, it is part of life at sea."

  She looked up into his gooseberry-green eyes.

  "I am so very glad I ambushed you that night," she murmured. "Were you scared?"

  "I was until I got my porridge!" He laughed. "After that, I was only concerned for Annabelle."

  "I'm sorry." She sighed. "But I think we can say that it all worked out for the best."

  He nodded, but his face looked troubled.

  "What's wrong, sweetheart?" Alexa asked, somewhat anxious, and she stroked his dark hair back from his cheeks.

  "Just one thing." He turned to look her directly in the eyes. "Alexa, it takes nine months to make a baby, does it not?"

  "Yes," she replied, puzzled. "But it doesn't usually happen right away. Why?"

  He picked her up and swept her into his arms.

  "Nine months, or however long it takes… is a long time. I think we should start now!"

  Minutes later, he laid Alexa down on the bed and began to undress her.

  When he had finished, she was lying naked on the bed for his inspection, and his gaze traveled over every inch of her so tenderly that she shivered with anticipation.

  "You are cold?" he asked as he began to pull the blankets over her.

  "No, my husband," she replied, smiling wickedly. "On the contrary, I am afire."

  He tossed his clothes on the floor in a heap. Nothing mattered at that moment but Alexa and nothing existed for either of them outside the bed. He worshiped her with his body, and she was a willing supplicant, taking all the pleasure he gave her and returning it in kind.