Rogues to Lovers: Legend of the Blue Rose

by Laurel O'Donnell

  True, Coira did say she wanted to help, feeling very appreciative of the fact that Effie, as well as Aidan, had saved her life six years ago. Thoughts of that dark time when she and Effie were prisoners of the English at Liddel Castle haunted her still. Because their grandmother, Isabel MacDuff, went against her husband, John Comyn, and crowned Robert the Bruce as King of Scotland, it seemed the women in their family were cursed to suffer in some way or another. It was the given right for a MacDuff to crown the Scottish kings. But because of it, her grandmother had been the first MacDuff woman to ever hang in a cage. Hopefully, Effie and Coira had been the last.

  “Give me your hand, Child,” said Zara, reaching out and taking Coira’s hand in hers.

  “What are ye doin’?” Coira pulled out of her grasp. Since she and Effie had been raised with gypsies, she should have seen this coming.

  “I’m going to read your palm.” Zara slid the candle across the table, bringing it closer for more light.

  Coira didn’t want her palm read. With her luck, she would have a short lifeline. Nay, she didn’t need to know. Choosing a card was the lesser of two evils right now, so that is what she’d do. “I think this card will be fine.” Blindly, she reached out and slid a card across the table to Zara. “I’ll go get some ale now. I’m parched.”

  She got up off the bench, but Effie reached out and grabbed her arm, not letting her walk away. “Let Zara read yer fortune first.”

  “I dinna ken if I believe in the cards, Effie,” said Coira shyly. She didn’t want to know anything that might be bad, especially if it pertained to her future.

  “Dinna believe?” asked Effie with a chuckle. “Coira, ye ken more than anyone that Zara was correct in predictin’ the gender of both my bairns, Elspeth and Arabella.”

  “That’s right,” said Zara. “I said she’d have two girls, and she did. And the one she is carrying now is a boy.”

  “Aidan will be so happy.” Effie smiled from ear to ear. “He has been wantin’ a son so he can teach him how to toss the caber someday.”

  “That’s just a coincidence that her predictions came true,” stated Coira.

  “Was it?” Zara sniffed and raised her nose in the air, taking Coira’s comment as an insult. “And was it a coincidence when I predicted that Ian and Kyla would have twins? I have been reading the cards ever since Storm MacKeefe and Wren first met. Actually, ever since I was once a handmaid to Wren many years ago. Everything I told Storm and Wren came true, so do not question my ways.”

  “Coira, how can ye no’ believe in the ways of the gypsies?” asked Effie. “We were raised with gypsies! And ye even helped Kyla try to see the man she was to marry in the fire on Samhain while ye two threw chestnuts into the flames to see if they would pop. Why are ye actin’ this way?”

  “Aye, I did do that,” Coira agreed. “I suppose, I’m only nervous because I’m gettin’ married.” Coira’s eyes roamed once more to the door.

  “Sit down and let me finish,” snapped Zara.

  Coira didn’t like confrontation, nor did she want to disappoint anyone. When Effie nodded, she begrudgingly took a seat.

  “That’s better,” said the old gypsy reaching for the card. “Now, let’s see which card you chose.” She turned over the card and gasped. “The blue rose,” she said no louder than a whisper. A dark shadow crossed her face.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Effie. “What does the card mean?”

  Coira looked down to see a card that looked different than the rest of the cards in the deck. Instead of the usual emperor or magician, she saw a card that depicted no people at all. It was a tangled vine with sharp thorns. And at the top of the vine was a beautiful, blue rose.

  Zara mumbled and shook her head. “I haven’t ever seen this card come up before. It is very rare, indeed.”

  Coira’s stomach clenched. She didn’t want to know what it meant. “I think I need that ale now.” Looking around the room, she tried to get the attention of a server, but the tavern was too crowded, and no one responded.

  “Dinna ye want to ken what the blue rose means?” asked Effie.

  “Nay. No’ really,” Coira answered, picking invisible lint from her sleeve. She was so upset that Zara had gasped that she couldn’t even look at the card anymore. It had to mean something terrible. She should never have agreed to this at all.

  “I’ll tell you anyway.” Zara held up the card in front of Coira. “It means that when the rare blue rose blooms, enemies will turn to lovers.”

  “It does?” asked Effie. “Well, that’s no’ so bad, Coira. It just means ye and yer husband-to-be will someday fall in love. After all, he is English, and ye are a Scot, and our countries have been enemies for a long time now.”

  “Effie, it doesna mean that,” said Coira in a soft voice. “After all . . . he’s no’ even comin’.” Coira pushed up from the table, feeling sad to have been rejected. But at the same time, she was relieved that she wouldn’t have to marry the stranger after all. Before she could walk away, the door to the tavern banged open, and a knight dressed in chain mail and a ripped tunic with lots of dirt on his clothes stomped into the room. He held a sword in his hand.

  Instantly, the MadMen MacKeefe, Onyx, Aidan, and Ian, drew their swords, bounding across the room, knocking over a bench in the process. They met the man at the door with the tips of their blades resting under his chin.

  “Put down the sword, Sassenach,” Aidan warned him in a gruff voice. Aidan’s pet squirrel chattered and scolded him from one of the ceiling beams.

  Rowdy soldiers that followed him into the tavern joined the knight. When they saw what was going on, they drew their swords as well. Instantly, more Scots with weapons surrounded them.

  “Boys, I think you have the wrong impression,” said the stranger with a chuckle. “We’re not here to make trouble, nor are we here to fight you.”

  “Then why are ye here?” asked Ian, holding his sword steady. Ian’s wolfhound growled lowly from behind him.

  “Why, I’m here for the wedding, of course,” said the man, flashing a quick smile that disappeared as the Scots moved in closer.

  “Who invited ye?” spat Onyx.

  “You did. All of you,” said the man, glancing over to Coira. She was the only one wearing a veil with a crown of flowers around her head. “Ah, I am guessing you are the bride,” he said to Coira.

  “I – I am the bride,” she admitted, startled that the man had spoken to her. She could barely answer him since she felt so scared. The soldier was a fierce, big man that looked like he’d just come from the battlefield. She could swear she smelled the sweat from the soldiers all the way across the room.

  “Who are ye?” asked Effie, standing up and waddling closer to Coira, letting her pregnant belly lead the way. She was more like a mother to Coira than a sister since their mother died birthing Coira. Aye, Effie always wanted to protect her.

  “I thought someone here would realize who I am,” said the man, lowering his weapon and glancing around the room. “I am Sir Lance de Selby. I am here to make an alliance by marrying a woman named Coira MacDuff.”

  Scottish Rose

  Elizabeth Rose

  Chapter 2

  Sir Lance de Selby didn’t expect this threatening reception when he entered the Horn and Hoof. After all, he was the groom! Supposedly, this was a neutral place to meet, but he was getting the idea that perhaps the Scots had lured him into a trap. He didn’t know any of them personally, except for the chieftain, Storm MacKeefe. Storm was the one who set up the alliance in the first place. Unfortunately, Lance didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Tell yer men to drop their weapons,” said the Scot with the two different colored eyes that reminded Lance of the devil.

  “Not until you do the same.” He kept his focus on the Scots with their weapons drawn.

  “Let me through,” said a man that Lance was relieved to see. Storm MacKeefe made his way down the stairs and through the crowd.

  “Laird Storm MacK
eefe,” said Lance. “I would clasp your hand, but I’m afraid to even nod because of the blades pressed up against my throat.”

  “Lower yer weapons. All of ye,” said Storm, nodding to the rest of the Scots. “After all, this man is the groom just like he says.”

  The men lowered their swords.

  “Sir Lance, I’d like ye to meet Onyx, Aidan, and Ian.” Storm introduced Lance to the men who had just held swords to his throat.

  “Forgive me if I just nod,” said Lance, not wanting to get too close.

  “Grandda, bring some Mountain Magic for our guests,” Storm called out.

  Lance scoped the area, still playing it cautious. He didn’t like being so far north. His small traveling party of knights and soldiers would never have a chance against so many Scots. All he wanted to do was to collect his bride and get out.

  “Here’s some of the best drink ye’ll ever taste.” An old man made his way through the crowd with two tankards in his hand. He gave one to Storm and the other to Lance.

  “Sir Lance, this is my grandda, Callum MacKeefe,” Storm told him. “He is the proprietor of the Horn and Hoof. Everyone, please toast to the bride and groom.” Storm raised his cup in the air.

  “Mountain Magic for everyone,” called out Callum in a crackly, old voice. The people all cheered and grabbed tankards from the trays of passing serving boys.

  “I must warn ye,” said Storm. “Take it slow because my grandda’s Mountain Magic is probably stronger whisky than ye’re used to.”

  Lance heard the Scots sniggering from behind him and didn’t want to be the brunt of any joke. “I’ve had my share of whisky in my life, MacKeefe. I assure you, I can handle anything you throw at me.” Even more laughing followed his statement.

  Just to prove his point in front of the Scots, as well as his new bride, Lance raised the tankard to his mouth and drank down the contents in several gulps. Instantly, he felt the fires of hell burning a hole in his gut. He coughed and bent over gripping his stomach. The empty cup dangled from his fingers.

  Coira watched in horror as the unsuspecting guest downed the fiery potion too fast. Her mouth dropped open, and her heart went out to the naive man. Mountain Magic was so strong that she’d heard the story about how, at one time, it knocked Storm MacKeefe unconscious for days. It took a long time to get used to it. And no woman, except for Kyla, could even drink the potent brew.

  “Storm warned ye,” said Onyx with a chuckle, taking a drink. “It’s no’ for the faint of heart.”

  “That’s right,” said Ian, slapping Onyx on the back, gripping his tankard in his other hand. “After all, Dagger should ken more than anyone how strong the brew is. It knocked him on his arse, and people thought he died on his twentieth birthday.”

  “I had twenty drams of it,” Onyx reminded him.

  “Ye were flat on yer arse, so dinna deny it,” Aidan said with a chuckle.

  “Och, stop all yer fussin’, ye three.” Kyla walked up, pushing her small body between the three big, burly Highlanders. “Ian, give me some of yer Mountain Magic. I’m parched.” She ripped the tankard out of his hand and downed the entire contents before handing the cup back to him. “Coira, are ye no’ goin to come over and meet yer husband-to-be?”

  “You – you just drank that entire cup of . . . Mountain Magic?” Lance staggered a little and shook his head in disbelief. The potent brew was already making him dizzy. This girl was a small thing but yet acted as if she drank naught but water.

  “I did,” she said. “I’ve been drinkin’ it with my brathair and these two since I was a wee lass.” She thunked her palms against Onyx and Ian’s chests.

  “Excuse me, Chieftain,” said the priest, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. “It is gettin’ late, and I have another weddin’ early in the mornin’. Can we proceed with the ceremony now that the groom has finally arrived?”

  “Aye. Everyone gather around,” said Storm. “It’s time for a weddin’.”

  “I’ve never heard of a – a wedding in a tavern,” complained Lance. He blinked quite a few times and his words sounded a little slurred. It made Coira wonder if the Mountain Magic had affected him, but he was trying to act like it didn’t.

  “This is where I got betrothed to my wife, Wren.” Storm called his wife to his side, putting his arm around her. “Isna that right, Wren? This place is special to us.”

  “I suppose it is, in a way,” said Wren. “Coira, please, come join Sir Lance. It is time.”

  “Effie,” said Coira, turning back to her sister. “I canna do this.” Panic filled her, and she felt as if she would swoon.

  “Ye’ve got to, Coira.” Effie rubbed Coira’s back. “Come, let’s join them.” Effie led her forward, stopping next to Sir Lance.

  “So . . . you are my – my . . .” Lance seemed to stop and think, not able to find the word he was looking for.

  “She’s yer bride,” said Effie, pushing her forward.

  “I’m sorry I’m not dressed for the occasion,” said Lance, brushing some dirt from his tunic.

  “Aye, why are ye all dirty?” asked Aidan.

  “And what took ye so long to get here?” added Ian, looking out for Coira as if she were his sister.

  Lance took a step backward, trying to focus on the MadMen. “I’d be happy to tell you where I was. I was attaining a new castle for my bride.”

  “Really,” said Storm. “Did ye lay siege to the castle?”

  “Nay.” Lance shook his head. “I inherited it. We were cleaning it and getting it ready for my new wife.”

  “See that,” whispered Effie. “He has secured a castle for yer weddin’.”

  “Which castle?” asked Onyx curiously.

  “Where is it?” Aidan chimed in.

  “How big?” rattled off Ian.

  “My laird, can we go ahead with the ceremony and talk about this later?” the priest asked Storm.

  “Of course. Go ahead.” Storm nodded.

  Coira’s head spun. Being in such a frenzy that this was happening to her, she barely remembered saying her vows. But before she knew it, the priest pronounced them married and Lance pulled her into his arms and slobbered a big kiss on her, nearly missing her mouth. Then he took his hand and slapped her on the rear in a playful manner.

  Coira jumped back in surprise.

  “Such a pretty wife.” Lance winked at her next. He smelled and tasted like Mountain Magic and was acting like a cur. She was sure now he was well in his cups from chugging down the whisky earlier.

  “He’s soused,” Coira told her sister, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Zara came to join them.

  “It’ll be fine,” said Effie, trying to calm her. “It is just the whisky makin’ him seem so . . . so . . .”

  “Obnoxious?” asked Zara, eying the man up and down. “I don’t like this at all. Coira needs someone to watch out for her when she leaves with him.”

  “Yes, I do,” said Coira, looking at Effie.

  “Sister, ye ken I canna come with ye,” protested Effie. “I have a husband and children and a bairn on the way.” She touched her stomach.

  “I suppose no’.” Coira hung her head.

  “She might not be able to leave, but I can come with you, Coira,” suggested Zara.

  “Would ye?” Coira looked up excitedly. “Zara, if ye were there with me, I am sure I would feel better about this whole situation.”

  “Let’s go, Wife,” said Lance, putting his arm around Coira. If she wasn’t mistaken, it felt like he was using her to help him stand.

  “I have a room here at the Horn and Hoof for ye and Coira to stay on yer weddin’ night,” offered Storm.

  “Nay, but thank you just the same, Torm – Sorm – Storm!”

  “Storm, I will be leaving with them, going along to serve as Coira’s handmaid if you don’t mind,” said Zara.

  “I dinna mind if Sir de Selby doesna,” Storm answered.

  “Fine, come along then,” he said, his eyes closing slightl
y. “Squire, where the hell are you?”

  “I’m here my lord.” A young man about the same age as Coira ran up and stopped at Lance’s side.

  “This is my quire, Jack,” said Lance.

  “Squire. He meant to say squire,” said Jack, looking at his lord from the side of his eyes.

  “So, Bride. Are you ready to head out to your new castle? I think you are going to like it. And the best part is that it’s on the border and you’ll still be living in Scotland after all.”

  “Oh, I’d like that,” said Coira, feeling relieved to hear this.

  “Where is the castle?” asked Effie. “What is it called?”

  “I get a bad feeling about this,” mumbled Zara, shoving her deck of cards into her oversized travel bag that she slung over her shoulder.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” said Lance, smiling like a fool. “It is a castle that you are never going to forget. It’s called Liddel Castle. Have you heard of it before?”

  Coira’s heart about stopped and a shiver ran up her spine. “L-Liddel Castle?” she asked, hoping she had misheard her new husband. After all, it couldn’t be the same castle where she was kept prisoner and almost died hanging in a cage.

  “She’s heard of it, and she’s no’ goin’,” spat Effie, coming to her rescue.

  “Effie,” warned Aidan. “Ye canna say that. Coira is the man’s wife now, and she has to go.”

  “That’s right,” added Storm. “We made an alliance.”

  “But no one told me where I’d be livin’.” Coira wished this was all naught but a dream.

  “We didna ken about this,” Storm told her.

  “No one did,” Lance added. “I just found out myself how lucky I was to have inherited it from my late Uncle Ralston.”

  “Lord Ralston?” Coira’s blood froze in her veins remembering the man who had been her captor.

  “Aye, did you know him?” asked Lance. “Lord Ralston the Bold, he was called.”