Highlander's Touch: Medieval Romance

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “Two horses saddled, my laird.” The lad returned, reins in hand.

  He thanked him, checked the cinch, slung his war coat on and bounded into his saddle.

  Beside him, Duncan mounted up, his leather saddle creaking.

  “Let’s be off.” No more could he wait. He thrust his knees into his horse and galloped out of the yard, dust swirling into the air.

  ’Twas time to hunt Fiona down and ensure she never made the mistake again of leaving his keep without first taking an adequate guard. He’d certainly never admit to himself there might be another reason why he needed to make this chase. Aye, she’d undertaken a dangerous journey alone and with her being close kin, she came under his protection. He wouldn’t fail her now.

  If only he hadn’t touched her last eve.

  Aye, he’d always wanted more with her, to the depths of his very soul, although that didn’t mean a mated bond had formed between them. He would never have allowed her to wed Matthew if that were the case.

  “You appear worried. You can speak to me about anything, brother.” Duncan eyed him from low in his saddle as the wind swept through the trees and rustled the pine branches.

  “Fiona and I have always been close, more so than I’ve probably ever let on.” The words tumbled forth and he cleared his throat. “That’s no’ to say we’re mated, because we arenae.”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not.”

  “These past few months, she’s been awaiting your return as keenly as Kyla and I have.”

  “That does no’ mean we’re mated.”

  “Every time one of our warriors has sought her company out, she’s politely turned them away.” His brother raised a brow. “She’s a widow, Coll, could so easily take her pick of any of the men here should she wish one of them for her husband. They all adore her, always have and always will, but now that I’m aware of how you’ve touched her, so much more makes sense. You’ve always struggled to keep your gaze off her. When she entered a room, you watched.”

  “I believed my time with her last eve to be merely a dream. I didnae know I was actually touching her in truth.”

  “Of course you did.” Duncan snorted under his breath. “You’re just ignoring your base instincts, that of a man intent on binding his chosen one to him. It’ll all become clear sooner or later.”

  “I agree I’ve always been infatuated with her, but that is all.” A lie. He’d been far more than infatuated with her over the years. From that day he’d swum with her in the pool around to the ledge behind the waterfall, he’d sensed something tugging at his very heart. That hour they’d sat with their fingers interlocked had been the most precious hour of his life. Naught had ever felt so right than to have her sitting next to him, not that he’d ever admit that to Duncan right now when it would only feed his brother’s insistence that they were in fact mated.

  “If she is your mate then the bond between you will surely deepen now you’ve spent such an intimate time together. Trust me. From the first moment I touched Ella in the way that lovers do, she was all I ever saw.”

  “My future path is set no matter my infatuation with Fiona. Kyla may have stood between her and I afore this day, but now Elizabeth does. The MacRae’s daughter is an innocent lass and I proposed to her. I asked her to be my wife.” He’d never backed down on his word once given yet, and he never intended to. He might no longer be honor-bound to wed Kyla, but he was honor-bound to wed Elizabeth.

  Up ahead, the steep cliff side trail ran down toward Ardan and he slowed his mount as a lone horse’s tracks in the trail up ahead seemed to halt then veer sharply into the woods.

  He hauled his horse to a stop next to the clear hoof marks scored into the dusty ground and circled them.

  Duncan pulled his mount in beside his, motioned with his head toward the forest. “The tracks dinnae continue on but instead cut away into the woods toward the village.

  “Duncan!” A woman with glossy brown hair waved and galloped out from under the high arched gate. With pale blue breeches encasing her legs and a cream tunic peeking out from under the hem of her black riding jacket, she could be only one woman. Ella Matheson, his new sister.

  His brother grinned from ear to ear beside him. Aye, definitely Ella.

  “Gentlemen.” Smiling, Ella brought her horse in between his and Duncan’s destriers then reached across and cupped Duncan’s cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too, love.” Duncan caught her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “Meet my brother, Coll.”

  “Aye, ’tis clear to see you two are twins, although there is enough of a difference for me to easily tell you both apart.” She nodded at him, gripped her reins tighter and edged her mount closer. “’Tis lovely to meet you, Coll.”

  “As it is to meet you.” He patted his war horse’s neck. “Welcome to the family.”

  “Thank you, although I’ve been told we now have quite the journey ahead of us. Hamish, the seer here at Ardan, foresaw your arrival and bade me to join you afore you made it inside. He ‘saw’ that you’re searching for Fiona, although she’s already ridden on to the village and now treks through the forested hills toward Loch Alsh and her father. Hamish insisted I’d be needed on your coming trip, that we’re to make all haste and find her afore the midnight hour strikes this night.”

  “Did Hamish say whether or no’ Fiona and Coll are mated?” Duncan narrowed his gaze on his wife.

  “He wouldnae confirm or deny it, said only part of the journey in finding our chosen one belongs in the chase.” She switched her gaze back to him. “Coll, Hamish also mentioned you’re now betrothed to the Chief of MacRae’s daughter, that he ‘saw’ that as well within his vision.”

  “Aye, I’ve signed a formal betrothal agreement with the MacRae and I’m set to wed Elizabeth at the end of this week.”

  “Oh, well, that might pose a bit of a problem if you’re indeed mated to Fiona.” She squeezed his arm. “But one I’m sure you’ll handle considering our mated males always do.”

  “I’m no’ mated to her.” He couldn’t keep the growl from his voice.

  “I see.” She cast a look at Duncan. “Your brother is much like you.”

  “You mean stubborn?”

  “Aye, but he’ll fall quickly into line once we catch her up.” Chuckling, she patted the saddlebags strapped to her horse. “I’ve brought provisions in case this journey takes longer than we might hope for.”

  “A wise move.” Duncan reached across and swung a satchel from Ella’s shoulders and hooked the straps over his own shoulders then gestured toward the trail. “Ladies first, my love.”

  “Keep your gaze on the trail and no’ on me. If you fall from your saddle again, I’m no’ coming back to help you up.” She shoved her knees into her mount’s flanks and tore into the trees, her laugh floating back to them.

  “Och, I’ll never live that fall down will I?” his brother yelled to her then galloped off in fast pursuit.

  He slapped his destrier’s rear and bounded into the trees after Duncan. Find Fiona, he would, and afore the midnight hour struck this night. He’d always taken the fae seer’s advice to heart, and didn’t intend to ignore it now.

  * * * *

  As night loomed, the skies darkened overhead and the hilly forest pathway Fiona had trod by foot for hours, thickened even further. Branches scraped her arms and cheeks, while the brushwood spilled onto the trail and made the way through impassible.

  Huffing, she halted and turned around in a slow circle. Not a break in the thick foliage overhead allowed the night sky to shine through. No moon or stars. Frustration and pain sliced through her, her satchel a heavy weight on her back and her empty water skin brushing against her hip where she’d belted it at her waist.

  Trekking through the woods had always been an adventure, usually with Coll, Duncan, or Kyla at her side. This night though, ’twas no adventure at all, not when her very heart heaved with each step she took farther
from the one man she’d never truly wanted to leave.

  You’ll know the moment when the intricate strands of the mated bond begin taking form between you. It’s undeniable. You’ll be driven toward him, and he’ll be driven toward you, and since he’s now touched you as you’ve said, well, that’ll only make his chase of you even more intense. Kyla’s words from this morning reverberated through her mind.

  Aye, Kyla was right, and after having been touched so intimately by Coll last eve, it had most definitely increased her need for him. Her thoughts swarmed only with him. Certainly she no longer wished to continue on, not when her very soul demanded she return to him. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoped like hell these fierce emotions were taking Coll just as fiercely as they were taking her.

  An owl hooted, the eerie call echoing through the towering trees and leafy undergrowth. She tipped her head toward the direction it had come from and caught the slight rush of water as she did. The river must be close. A river certainly ran right through this forest in a meandering line from Loch Alsh to Loch Carron. She grasped her red skirts dampened by the swirling forest mist and stumbled toward the river.

  The splashing and gurgling thrummed louder and she picked up her pace, heaved branches aside and finally broke through the heavy tree line and lurched into a small clearing with the river snaking through it, the moon thankfully now a golden orb high above. Stars twinkled so prettily and never had she seen such a welcoming sight. Thank heavens she hadn’t gotten herself completely lost, because if she didn’t know where she was then how on earth would Coll know either.

  Legs shaking, she staggered to the grassy edge of the bank and lowered to her knees, flipped her black cloak back and leaned in. Hands cupped, she scooped fresh water and with her palms lifted to her mouth, gulped it down. So good, yet also so chilly. The cold water hit her belly with an icy rush and goosebumps rippled across her skin.

  No more for now. She’d fill her pouch and drink more later. Skin unplugged, she dipped it into the water, corked it once full and pushed to her feet. No farther would she walk this night. She’d make camp here and build a fire to keep warm by.

  Satchel in hand, she clomped across to the nearest tree and propped it against the wide trunk. With her wrist dagger unsheathed, she crouched and loosened the soil with a few good stabs. She hollowed out a small pit, returned to the river bank and collected some stones then carefully stacked them in a circle around the pit.

  After a short hunt within the nearest trees, she gathered sticks and a few pine cones then with the load of tinder in her arms, dropped what she’d collected next to the pit. A quick search netted her a large log which would burn for hours and knees locked tight, she dragged it back to her camp, scoring a trail in the leaf-strewn trail.

  Sweat beaded and a trickle ran down her back, the work arduous but fulfilling and she set to work pulling stringy bark off the log in preparation to begin her fire. With flint from her pouch, she struck it with her dirk until a spark caught then hands scooped around the tiny flame, she coaxed it into life and only once assured the fire had truly taken ahold, added twigs and then the large log until it blazed.

  Huddled in front of the fire’s crackling warmth on her plaid, she rubbed her chilled hands together. Sixteen months ago, the night before Coll’s leaving, she’d sat around just such a fire as this one. He’d asked her to meet him before they’d parted ways and she had, in the woods near their pool. Before the brilliant flicker of the fire’s orange and yellow flames, he’d spread out a blanket and motioned for her to join him.

  In her blue kirtle, she’d plopped down and stretched out her legs, while a frisky wind had breezed through and along with it had brought the sweet fragrance from the lavender bushes clumped amongst the surrounding pine trees. The splashing of the waterfall hitting the pool rushed from close by, although that special place remained just beyond her sight.

  “There is naught I love more than being outside under a night sky.” Both hating and desiring these final few hours with him, she’d flopped onto her back and stared up at the darkened sky with its myriad of twinkling stars blazing above.

  “I wholeheartedly agree.” In his black leather pants and a billowy white tunic, he’d laid down side to side with her and stared up at the same sky as she did. “You’ll make a fine wife for Matthew.”

  “Ha, that I didnae expect you to say.” She couldn’t help but smile, no matter the difficult beginning to their conversation. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  “There is no other choice left to you, and I understand that.” Solemn words.

  “I see.” She’d rolled onto her side and fully faced him, the distance between them a mere foot or two, yet the divide couldn’t have felt greater. “Look at me.”

  He’d rolled onto his side too, caught her hand and trapped her fingers against the heat of his chest. With his gaze locked on hers, he’d breathed slowly in and out.

  So did she, her thoughts so scrambled, and for some time all they did was lie there like that and take in the moment. That had been a sliver of time she’d never get back, and so she’d memorized every detail of his face, from the rich brown shade of his eyes with those stunning flecks of gold, to the dimples either side of his lush lips, and the deep cleft in his chin holding a razz of stubble. If only she could get past the natural barrier in his mind and read his emotions too. She’d love naught more than to know exactly what he was thinking and feeling since he hadn’t shared much.

  “You’re tapping at my mind.” He’d stroked the back of one finger along her cheek. “I can sense it.”

  “Then lower your shields so I no longer have to.”

  “If I released my emotions right now, you’d get swamped in them.” He’d leaned in closer, touched the tip of his nose to hers. “I also prefer it that you cannae sense my emotions most of the time.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Eyes closed, she’d reached out with her fae empath ability and tried harder to capture even just one of his current thoughts or feelings, but there was nothing. She growled under her breath. “Your fae blood annoys me this night.”

  “As yours usually annoys me most of the time too.” With his hand on her waist, he rubbed his thumb in a slow circle over her hip, his touch pure magic, settling and soothing her frustration so swiftly. “’Tis also at times like these when you mention my fae blood that my thoughts always return to the night when I first learnt of my true birthmother. Eight, I’d been at the time, and in Father’s solar. I’ll never forget when I noticed you hiding under the table. I caught sight of your toes peeking out from under the tablecloth and knew ’twas you.”

  “I’d snuck in earlier, when the fae woman from the Matheson village arrived with Kyla. The woman’s emotions had rolled out in strong waves to me, and she’d clearly been worried about you and Duncan as well, although I didnae know why. That I had to learn the answer to.” She’d been right to sneak in that night, for that had been when Coll and Duncan had learnt that the woman who’d arrived, Grace Matheson, had been a dear friend of their true birthmother’s. Grace had held the skill of death-warning and seen trouble was about to befall Coll and Duncan, so she’d brought them a message so they might survive. That night they’d learnt of their true fae heritage, that their fae battle skill would soon come into being.

  “Grace is the one who forced Father to admit the truth to Duncan and I, and to explain why he’d kept the secret of who our true mother was to himself for the first eight years of our lives.”

  “I’m so glad Grace came that night.” Grace, Kyla’s true mother, was such a sweet woman.

  “So am I, although no’ for Kyla’s sake. That was when Father became intrigued by her. Only a few days later, he stole into her parents’ village and spirited her away. She’d been so young at the time, torn away from her kin, and never to see them again. That pained me greatly.”

  “As it did me, and I wish we could see Kyla safely back home to her parents now.”

  “She willnae leave us, no’ when
Father has always held the safety of her parents over her head. He’ll slaughter each and every one of those from within her fae village should she attempt to return.” He’d squeezed her hip, his fingers going in tight. “Do you recall Grace’s decree that night?”

  “I’ll never forget it.” Grace had told Coll and Duncan that their destiny was to ensure that the fae lived, and they’d taken her words to heart. She cupped his cheek, grazed her fingers along his skin. “Make our clan great for our future kin, Coll.”

  “Duncan and I intend to.”

  His words from that night haunted her still, yet she’d also accepted his future would be with Kyla, and hers with Matthew, or at least until this night.

  Kyla had now been found by her mate and they’d spoken vows. Ronan had also made certain those at the fae village—including Kyla’s parents—had been made aware of Colin MacKenzie’s threat. They all took the greatest of care and ensured their full security, so should there ever be a strike by Colin at their village, then they’d be fully prepared for it. An answer to their dreams.

  “Fiona?” Something white flashed beyond the fire, there one moment and gone the next.

  She scuttled back, until her back hit the wide trunk. Hands gripping the rough bark behind her, she shoved to her feet clawing upward. Heartbeat a racing mess, she searched the darkened trees. “Who goes there?”

  “I’m Cherub, the guardian of my fae kind.” The faerie’s voice wisped all about within the nighttime breeze then she appeared from the misty dark and took her full form, her white fur hooded cloak swishing back from her shoulders over top of a regal blue gown, her hands tucked within the rounded warmth of a white fur muff dangling from her neck. With a soft smile, Cherub eyed her. “Well, glad I am to finally meet you, Fiona MacKenzie.”