The Highlander & the Unlikely Heir_Scottish Highland Romance

by Fiona MacEwen

  Chapter 7

  Departure

  Catriona clutched at the sill of her window, watching Alastair tack up his horse.

  It was raining, somewhat fitting given the state of her heart right now, but that just made the landscape even more beautiful. Dark grey mist had settled about the hills, the kind that was Scottish in nature, particularly in the highlands. It suited Catriona’s mood as she contemplated Alastair’s departure and his impending wedding to Isobel.

  The news had spread quickly throughout the castle though Catriona had heard it straight from Isobel’s own mouth that morning while attempting to braid Isobel’s unruly hair. She had met Catriona’s eyes in the mirror, almost vicious in their victory, and she had lamented once more that Catriona would be forced to attend to her on her wedding day and would follow her to Grant.

  The admission dealt a double blow to Catriona’s heart; first, that she would be forced to leave her beloved Sutherland, her beloved Loch, and second, that she would have to watch Isobel marry Alastair. Catriona would never have asked for the feelings she harbored for Alastair, but they would not be beaten back. Her heart ached for him, but she had to ignore it, especially now.

  Any weakness she displayed would be exploited, and she would not have her feelings for Alastair used against him, or herself.

  Alastair’s retinue were ready to head out, and Catriona could see Alastair’s brother leading the way. She wondered what Alastair’s castle was like, what his lands boasted. She wondered how much beauty and happiness there was to be found in Grant. She longed for a lot, for something that would make her feel as content as she did in Sutherland. If that was to be her future, she was going to have to find some appeal within Grant’s borders.

  In the quiet of the room, watching Alastair’s stallion pass out of the castle walls, she allowed herself a moment to entertain the idea of marrying Alastair herself, of negotiating his relocation to Sutherland, or of their travel between Grant and Sutherland, cultivating their relationship and their clans into one strong, unyielding unit. It was fanciful, but no less powerful for the effect it had on her.

  Catriona leaned into the window, hand pressed to the glass as she watched Alastair disappear. It was as if he took that dream with him, and she was left in the cold, dark room, awaiting Isobel’s inevitable return, and the taunting she would bring with her.

  Chapter 8

  Laird of Grant

  The lands of Clan Grant were beautiful.

  Their retinue was travelling by horseback, the conditions of the roads not the best for carriage travel. Not that Catriona was sorry; though the weather had soured the mood for most of her companions, Catriona was in love with the beauty of the surrounding landscape, and of the lands. Though they were travelling through several other Clans’ lands, they were given safe passage, and though rising tensions gave way to paranoia, many seemed only too happy to let them pass.

  They had a Loch—Alastair had never said anything about it, but it rivalled Loch Shin in beauty. Catriona’s breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Though the sky overheard was bright, the loch retained an ethereal beauty from the mist hovering above its surface. The greens surrounding the Loch were a darker green than Catriona was used to, but they were still beautiful.

  “It’s damp,” Isobel groused, shuffling uncomfortably on her horse. She didn’t travel well and Catriona took a bitter satisfaction from her distress though she tried to school her features to hide it.

  “We shall be there soon,” Margaret assured her. Even travelling on horseback didn’t seem to ruffle her in any way. She remained a formidable presence even now, and Catriona kept her distance. She guided her horse to remain a step and a half behind Isobel’s, close enough to be called, but far enough that she could ignore both her stepmother and stepsister if she wished to.

  Catriona had been doing a good job of not thinking about Alastair since he had left her all that time ago, but the closer they got to his castle, the more her heart seemed to quicken. She didn’t know what to expect from him, especially not with there being a wedding soon. But she would just have to hope it would be calm enough not to upset the fragile waters within which she found herself.

  As they approached the castle, Catriona let her gaze linger on the Loch. It did not hold the same familiarity with which she beheld Loch Shin, but she had no doubt that given time, she would come to adore this Loch with the same fervor. It was a sobering and unwanted thought, given her feelings about leaving Sutherland. That future seemed almost certain with the way things were unfolding between Clans Grant and Sutherland.

  It was with a heavy heart that she guided her horse into the surrounding walls of the castle and let the landscape fall behind her.

  Alastair was waiting for them.

  John standing off to the left, and a couple of other men, all dressed in the Grant tartan, were ready to receive their entourage. One of the men stepped up to Lady Isobel’s horse, and Alastair himself helped Margaret from her horse. Catriona smothered any feelings she held that someone help her, but she dismounted anyway, jumping smoothly to the ground. There was the weight of someone’s gaze on her back, but she ignored it, sliding the horse’s reins through her fingers and keeping her head low.

  Isobel was talking, voice high pitched and obvious. When Catriona looked up, she could see the expression on Isobel’s face when their eyes meet. Catriona worried that Isobel had picked up on her feelings for Alastair, but she mused that Isobel would behave this way with any suitor, whether Catriona liked them or not. It was just the way she was, knowing she was in the far more advantageous position and Catriona was forced to watch. As if she could ever be allowed to forget.

  “Yer land is lovely,” Isobel was saying, her hands wrapped tightly around Alastair’s.

  “I’m glad ye think so,” Alastair said.

  Catriona had forgotten how smooth his voice was, how much she had missed hearing him say guid mornin or apologizing for tripping her. She had missed the lilt of his accent that differed at times to her own. She had missed him, for all that she tried to convince herself that she didn’t, not that she could ever tell him so.

  Margaret was talking, something about graciousness and excitement, and Catriona had to cling to the reins to keep from speaking out. Her horse whinnied softly, shifting on her hooves, and Catriona pressed a soothing hand to the horse’s shoulder.

  “Catriona!” Isobel was staring at her, eyes narrowed. “Come, we are to be shown to my room and I wish you to ken how to attend me.”

  Catriona quickly relinquished the reins to one of the stable hands hovering near her elbow and hurried to Isobel’s side. She avoided catching Alastair’s eye and kept pace with Isobel and Margaret as they strode into the castle on Alastair’s heel.

  The castle itself was stone, but as warm within as Sutherland Castle. There were drapes of Grant tartan and fires scattered throughout the rooms to keep from getting too draughty. It was big, rivalling Sutherland castle in size despite the significant difference in the land both clans held, but it was not ostentatious. It was inviting and homey, and Catriona could see why Alastair was proud of his home land. She wished to speak to him about the Loch and the castle, about the animals and the plants on Alastair’s lands, though she had to remind herself sternly that she wasn’t free to discuss those things. She and Alastair were miles apart, and it was difficult at times to remember.

  Isobel caught her wrist, fingers tight. “What is wrong with ye? I’ve been speaking to ye for a while.”

  “Sorry,” Catriona said, trying to keep her tone deferent. “The castle is–“

  “I dinnae care,” Isobel snapped, cutting her off. Up ahead, Catriona could see Alastair effortlessly talking to Margaret, and she was grateful for his distraction. Isobel shook her wrist a little. “I’ve told you before not to ruin this for me. This is my marriage Catriona, and I will be married.”

  Catriona said nothing, trying not to focus on the rage in Isobel’s eyes. It was exha
usting trying to fathom where such venom could come from. Catriona’s father had not been the most gracious man with his affections, lavishing most of them on Catriona, but she was not to blame for somebody else’s actions, no matter how much she may have loved them. It was unfair to be saddled with such hatred for something she had no control over, but Catriona had long since come to terms with these things.

  “I’m sorry,” Catriona said again, sighing gently. “I’ll stay out of yer way.”

  “Not too far,” Isobel said, something nasty in her smile. “I wouldn’t want ye to miss out on all the excitement.”

  That wasn’t the word that Catriona would choose to describe the impending wedding, but she was not the one that would be marrying Alastair. “Of course.”

  Perhaps sensing that she wasn’t going to get a rise out of Catriona, Isobel released Catriona’s arm and glided back down the corridor towards Margaret and Alastair. Her face was back in its familiar smile, and she looped her hand through Alastair’s arm. He faltered for a step or two and then fell into step with Isobel. Catriona breathed out slowly and then hurried to keep up.

  Chapter 9

  A Feast

  It took a little over two days for Alastair to get Catriona alone.

  It had been a long time since he had seen her, and though he knew he should be ignoring the feelings currently pounding at his chest, he couldn’t deny that he had missed her. She was just as beautiful, if reserved, as she had been at her own castle.

  It was overwhelming, being surrounded by people who were so eager to get into wedding preparations, and so willing to take it all on themselves. There were some in Clan Grant who were just as determined to see the day go smoothly, and Alastair was only too happy to get out from under everyone’s feet. This marriage was political and not out of any affection on his part, and he only hoped that the day would approach quickly.

  It was still difficult, but he had concluded that the farther from the plans he stayed, the easier it would be to pretend that this marriage was something he wanted.

  There was to be a banquet that evening to celebrate the impending nuptials. Like many clans in Scotland, Clan Grant was no exception to liking a good banquet. They let the whisky flow freely, and traditional Scottish music accompanied the revelry. This banquet was to be exceptional even by Grant standards, given that it would be a blend of both Grant and Sutherland, and a celebration in addition.

  John took over the planning, bidding Alastair get his head together elsewhere, and Alastair took the words to heart. Thinking about the time he had spent with Catriona by Loch Shin, he saddled up his horse and rode to the outskirts of his lands, to Loch Ness. It stretched out against the landscape like a shadow and was soothing in its vastness. It had always seemed like such a dark shape against the horizon. Catriona’s appreciation of her own Loch had opened his eyes to the beauty of such a body of water. It was more than just a means to derive water and attract the beasts around its shores. It was soothing, and Alastair longed to bring Catriona to its shores.

  Perhaps it would have been fairer to bring Isobel, and to introduce her into his life and his lands, but he was having a harder time reconciling the life he should have with her with the one he desperately wished for with Catriona.

  Catriona was being kept busy with her own planning for the banquet, and Alastair had not been able to meet with her. He hoped that they would get some time later and made a promise to himself to at least try.

  The ride back to the castle was refreshing, and though the sky was threatening rain, it did not dampen his spirits any. Whatever happened from this moment did not seem so daunting in the face of his castle, and in the face of the people within it. Everything he had done thus far was for the betterment of his clan, and though he wished to be selfish about Catriona, whatever would be would stand. Whether or not Catriona wanted him, he would do what was right for his clan.

  The main hall was bustling with activity when Alastair strode through. Half-decorated, the tables were being positioned for maximum capacity, and there was already a clean line to the kitchens. Nothing was being left to chance, and Alastair felt a flush of pride for everyone hard at work. It was then Catriona ducked out of the kitchens, tableware in hand, and she paused when she caught sight of Alastair. There was a suspended moment, charged, and Alastair took a step toward her.

  “I have to work,” Catriona said quickly, eyes darting left and then right.

  “Surely ye have a spare moment,” Alastair said, aware that his tone was desperate.

  Catriona paused, looking him in the eye and took a deep breath, almost as though she were stealing herself. With a quick nod, she led the way to a cluster of chairs that were sitting, waiting to be distributed around the tables. It was perhaps the safest place in the hall now, given the flurry of activity in setting places at the tables.

  “I had hoped I would see ye here,” Alastair started, and then paused. Now that Catriona was here, in front of him, he was at a loss for words.

  Catriona said nothing, but she was smiling, small and obvious.

  “How have ye been?”

  “Guid,” Catriona said, and she did not look as if it was a lie, though that darkness was back in her eyes. Thankfully, it cleared quickly. “Yer Loch is bonnie.”

  Glad for something to latch onto, Alastair broke into his own sunny smile. “Isn’t it? I thought perhaps ye would like it.”

  “It’s somehow gloomier, but naw to its detriment,” Catriona said. She looked thoughtful as if she were weighing her words before she spoke them. There was care in her expression as if aware that Alastair cared about her opinion. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking. Either way, Alastair appreciated the restraint.

  “I wondered if ye would appreciate it as much as yer own.”

  “Sadly not,” Catriona said with a wistful smile. “Naw to say that yer Loch is not bonnie, but Loch Shin has been outside of me window every day of me life. It is hard to have that usurped by something I have seen for a day or two.”

  Alastair appreciated the honesty and didn’t know if it was possible to love a person this much. “I wish ye could enjoy the rest of the days ye hae to look at it.”

  As if reminded of the occasion, Catriona’s face clouded over, and she stared down at the dishes in her hands. “Yes.”

  Heart clenching painfully, Alastair reached out, placing a hand on Catriona’s arm. “I wish for ye to see the Loch wi' me at sunset.”

  Catriona swallowed, once, twice, and kept holding his gaze. It was difficult to breathe, her blue eyes bright and shining despite the low light of the hall. She was captivating, and Alastair could have stood there for days, months, years, but a crash from the hall broke their gaze.

  “I hae to go,” Catriona said quickly, tugging gently out of Alastair’s grip.

  “The Loch–“

  Catriona paused, then gave Alastair a fleeting, if sad, smile. “I’ll be there. If ye dinnae come, I will assume something will have held ye up.”

  No matter what, watching Catriona rush back to help with the dishes, Alastair promised himself that he would be there.

  Chapter 10

  Forbidden

  Catriona listened to the cacophony of birds on the water and immersed herself in the moment. If she closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, she could almost imagine that she was back in Sutherland, that this was Loch Shin and not a Loch as unfamiliar to her as to the land beneath her feet.

  It was just before sunset, and Catriona had escaped the banquet. It wasn’t slowing down any, with many men and women from both clans already drunk and happy, but she had never been one for festivities. Especially not those focused on a wedding she wanted no part of. Clenching her hands around her skirt, she hiked it up enough that it wouldn’t get wet and dipped her toes into the water.

  It wasn’t as if water could feel different really, but she wondered at the difference. Perhaps it was all in her mind. Everything was different, and she was having a difficult time adjusting. Nevertheless, whe
n Alastair appeared not a half hour later, announcing his arrival with a polite cough, Catriona met him with a smile.

  “I had wondered,” Alastair said, making his way to the shoreline carefully, picking his way around rocks and roots, “whether ye would be here.”

  Catriona inclined her head. “I think perhaps yer arrival was the most in question.”

  Alastair acquiesced the point with a laugh. “Aye, I suppose yer right.”

  “I usually am.” Catriona gave Alastair a self-satisfied smile at his grin and wondered at her boldness. She didn’t know where her sudden confidence had come from, but she was going to take advantage of it while it was here. “Dauner with me?”

  Alastair agreed, allowing her to rest against his arm as she slipped back into her shoes in preparation for the walk. “The Loch is vast,” he said, when she was ready. “Perhaps just a little way and then back?”

  Catriona could see the logic in that. “Ye can show me what critters frequent yer land.”

  “I’m not sure I’m one for that,” Alastair admitted slowly. “Despite me appreciation, I’m afraid I dinnae have a lot of time to enjoy them.”

  “Pity.” Catriona paused as Alastair held out his arm. It was a gesture reserved for ladies not for maids. She swallowed down the ingrained reaction to beg out of it and instead slipped her hand through Alastair’s arm and held on. It felt good, right even, and she fell into step with him.

  “I dae, however, have faith that ye ken them.”

  “Aye,” Catriona assured him, rolling the word on her tongue. Alastair’s eyes were bright, appreciative. Perhaps it was her accent, or just the fact that out here, she felt more liberated and uninhibited, but he touched her cheek, fingers callused but gentle.

  “Alastair.”

  “Catriona,” Alastair said, slowly, and her name sounded so wonderful on his tongue.