“And what of Grey Campbell?” he asked, setting the cup down on a wooden tray.
Grey had spent the last week searching for Lieutenant Burdock, dealing with a hysterically guilt-ridden Kirstin, and speaking with Ensign Morris about clearing his parents’ names. Evelyn had barely seen him, except at night when he’d find his way to her after bathing the day’s grime off himself. She’d wake to his fresh, warm smell and sigh as he lifted her from her small bed to carry her to his large one through the door that she left open between their rooms.
They hadn’t spoken of their future, and as much as she wanted to remind him of their loving oaths in the carriage, part of her worried that his passionate words were spoken to drive away the terribleness of death hanging so thickly around them. For all the courage that Grey thought she possessed, Evelyn was afraid to ask him to marry her. Each day she promised herself that she would talk to him, only to wait in hopes that a normalcy would descend again.
“Grey Campbell will remain the chief here,” she finally said to Nathaniel.
“And you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He squeezed her hand. Despite the hard stare that Nathaniel had inherited from their Father, he was kind. “You are always welcome back to Hollings, and I won’t make you marry anyone.”
She leaned forward to kiss his bristled cheek. The more time he spent convalescing, the more he looked like a handsome Highlander and not a rich courtier.
Knock. Knock. “Evie,” Scarlet said. “You need to come below.” She whisked up to the bed to kiss Nathaniel’s forehead, but then looked Evelyn up and down. Her smile puckered. “Let’s get you out of your apron.” She reached up to pluck apart Evelyn’s braid.
“What are you doing?” Evelyn asked, trying to brush her hands away.
Scarlet fluffed out her waves around her shoulders and then grabbed her hand. “I’ll bring her back later, Nat,” she called, tugging Evelyn behind her out the door. “Come along.”
Evelyn gave Nathaniel a dumbfounded glance before Scarlet pulled her toward the steps. “What is going on?” Evelyn steadied herself with a hand on the rough stone wall.
“You need to answer a question,” Scarlet said, her head bobbing before Evelyn as she led the way. Around and around, they hurried down the steps.
“Can’t you take care of it?” Evelyn asked.
Scarlet laughed as they reached the bottom. “No.”
Evelyn rounded the corner into the great hall and froze. The silent room was full. Craig, the blacksmith, nodded to her, his apprentice by his side. Kerrick, Hamish, Hamish’s family, Rebecca, Alana with her wolfhounds, the pups scurrying around with a child who was being hushed by his mother. Even Kirstin stood toward the back, the permanent remorse still etched on her face. There were warriors Evelyn had seen in the bailey after the attack and Aiden and the elderly women from the Beltane fire. James and young Thomas stood with an impishly grinning Molly.
“What is this?” Evelyn whispered.
Then she saw Grey. He walked from the entryway with his grandmother on his arm, a man in priest’s robes before them. Elizabeth Campbell wore the same blue cloak from Beltane. She frowned at Evelyn, her chin tilted high, as Grey led her into the hall. Was the woman returning to Finlarig? Was this some ceremony to change ownership back to the Campbells?
Dressed in a bright white shirt and fresh kilt, his beard closely trimmed, Grey paused when he met her gaze across the room. They stared at each other for a moment. “Grey?” she asked, her voice carrying in the silence.
He led his grandmother to stand next to Alana, bending to whisper in her ear. The elderly woman’s lips were pursed tight, and she looked away from him. When Grey turned to meet Evelyn’s gaze, he had a dangerously serious look. It caught Evelyn’s breath. Striding forward, he stopped before her.
“Is your grandmother returning to the castle?” she asked.
“Nay. I asked her to visit today.”
Evelyn glanced around Grey to where Alana held tightly to Elizabeth Campbell’s arm. “She doesn’t look too happy,” she whispered. “I should invite her to tea.”
Grey shook his head. “Don’t drink or eat anything she gives ye,” he whispered back.
“Uh…very well,” Evelyn said, her brows lowering at the odd remark. “So…why is everyone here?”
Grey cleared his throat and leaned toward her ear. “Forgive the surprise, but Hamish says it’s a sound strategy to ask ye before a crowd.”
“Ask me?” she said, her heart beating wildly. “I don’t understand.”
He rubbed a hand down his short beard. “Ye’ve a kind heart, kind enough not to humiliate me.” A nervous grin grew on his face.
A tentative smile relaxed her tight mouth as her brows pinched slightly. “If we are demonstrating a self-defense scene, I’m not holding back,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “I am warned.” He took her hand, presenting her to the group. “Thank ye for coming as witness. He nodded to the priest and turned to her. “Evelyn Worthington of Lincolnshire, England, before these people of Killin and all of Breadalbane territory, before Father Paul and God, I declare that I love ye and ask ye to wed, to live here with me at Finlarig so we can be master and mistress.”
Evelyn’s heart pounded, and her stomach leaped with joy. She could hardly breathe and reached out to steady herself on Grey’s strong arm.
“And teach us all to read,” Rebecca called from the back of the room. Several people laughed.
“And teach us to scramble the brains of scoundrels,” Alana called. Despite her bloody words, she smiled brightly, and a low cheer followed. Her grandmother nodded at her declaration.
Grey leaned to her ear. “Not all scoundrels.”
Evelyn turned into his arms. She looked up, a slow smile growing on her face. “I love you, too.” She blinked as the tears gathered in her eyes. He caught one as it broke along her lower lid. She laughed. “Yes,” she said. “The answer is most certainly yes.”
As Grey’s lips descended to seal their promise, a cheer rose up behind them. But Evelyn was once more lost in the heat that grew so easily in Grey’s strong embrace. Their love wove tightly around them, healing old wounds and creating joy from their shattered beginnings. They would move forward together, stronger than ever before, in their everlasting love.
Epilogue
Evelyn stepped out from the dressing screen in the corner. “Prepare to be thwarted by a Highland Rose, Chief Campbell,” she said as she strutted forward wearing the tight training trousers. Although she hadn’t donned them again with her students, her husband certainly liked her in them, and out of them.
Grey reclined on the pillows of their massive bed, a roguish grin across his handsome face. “What if I surrender?” He had already untied his shirt and drew it off over his head. The action made Evelyn pause as heat rushed through her already sensitive body.
“Then, Grey Campbell,” she whispered, kneeling on the edge of the bed, “you are my prize.” She smiled, letting her wild curls fall from the loose bun she’d fashioned and crawled toward him. Her shirt gaped open, giving him a view of her full, free breasts, her wavy hair dragging along beside her. When she reached his legs, she pushed up to stand over him, her bare toes curling into the softness of the furs and quilts.
His proud member pushed upward against his low-slung kilt. “Aye, lass, I am your prisoner.” He grabbed one of her legs, and she gasped as he made her tumble down over him. He caught her and rolled, pinning her quickly beneath him as she laughed.
“I’ve imprisoned you for life, husband,” she said, smiling impishly, her hand drifting over the taut muscles of his chest and stomach. He sat back on his heels to tug his kilt, the heavy plaid falling away to reveal his toned body. “Mmmm…” she said, admiring him. “And you are all mine.”
He leaned in, trailing hot, wet kisses from her lips down he
r neck. “And ye are all mine.”
“Thorns and all?” she asked, laughing lightly.
Grey slid onto his side and captured her face with one large hand to stare down at her, promises of passion in his stare. “Aye. I rather like your scratches, lass.”
She laughed, feeling her smile from the bend of her lips to the fullness of her soul. Joy consumed her. “I love you, Grey,” she said, gazing into his clear eyes.
His thumb stroked her cheek. “I love ye, Evelyn, my Highland rose.”
She reached for the back of his neck as he descended to kiss her, stealing her breath as completely as he’d stolen her heart.
What would send a viscount’s daughter fleeing the golden court of Charles II in the middle of the night, making her hide in the wilds of the Highlands? Learn Scarlet Worthington’s secrets in the second HIGHLAND ROSES SCHOOL book, A ROSE WITH THORNS. Can love create something beautiful out of a shattered past?
Herbal Poultices
Poultices were often used in healing in the 17th century and are still used today. A poultice is basically a mash of herbs, clay, activated charcoal, salts, or other beneficial substances placed on the skin. The herb is harvested, washed, and made into a thick paste by crushing it with a mortar and pestle or between rocks.
A small amount of hot or cold water is added to the crushed herb to help form a paste—hot water to help draw out infection or remove an abscess, cold water to reduce inflammation. Sometimes the poultice is placed directly on the skin. Other times it is wrapped in a thin piece of fabric and applied. Cheesecloth or thin, organic cotton work well, because they don’t absorb too much liquid and are thin enough to allow the herb indirect contact with the skin.
In A Rose in the Highlands, Evelyn and Cat use poultices in their healing, and I’ve listed a couple recipes below.
Keep these basic cautions in mind:
Clean the infected area first.
Poultices should be used for only one application. Afterward, they should be discarded.
Do not apply poultices to large or open wounds.
Some ingredients can irritate and cause blistering. Do not apply the following herbs directly to the skin: cayenne, mustard, onion, and garlic.
If redness occurs, remove the poultice and wash area.
Poultice for Aiden’s burns:
Mash comfrey, slippery elm or chickweed with some cool water or vinegar.
Apply to burn and wrap cloth around it.
Poultice for treating cuts when a Highlander and an Englishman battle:
A raw potato poultice (just grate a raw potato) works well to draw an infection out of a wound, but potatoes were not grown in Scotland until the 18th century, so they aren’t mentioned in my books.
Fresh yarrow can be chopped and applied directly to a cut to help the wound stop bleeding. Wipe pure honey on the cleaned wound and wrap. Change two to three times a day. A chamomile poultice can reduce pain and inflammation (an easy way to do this is with soaked chamomile tea bags).
There are many websites and books out about natural healing, which will give other suggestions for poultices. Make sure to use home remedies with caution, and see a doctor for serious medical issues.
Happy Healing! Heather
Did you love this book from Entangled’s Amara imprint? Check out more of our titles here!
Don’t miss Heather McCollum’s next book! Sign up for our newsletter here!
Acknowledgments
Thank you to all my wonderful readers! Without you, my characters would remain trapped inside my books. But as you read about their adventures, you release them, bringing them to life and into this world. We are so grateful for you!
As at the end of each of my books, I please ask that you, my awesome readers, remind yourselves of the whispered symptoms of ovarian cancer. I am now a seven-year survivor, one of the lucky ones. Please don’t rely on luck. If you experience any of these symptoms, consistently for three weeks or more, go see your GYN.
• Bloating
• Eating less and feeling full faster
• Abdominal pain
• Trouble with your bladder
Other symptoms may include: indigestion, back pain, pain with intercourse, constipation, fatigue, and menstrual irregularities.
About the Author
Heather McCollum is an award-winning historical romance writer. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood of 2009 Golden Heart finalists. She has over eighteen romance novels published and is a 2015 Readers’ Crown Winner and Amazon Best Seller.
The ancient magic and lush beauty of Great Britain entrances Ms. McCollum’s heart and imagination every time she visits. The country’s history and landscape have been a backdrop for her writing ever since her first journey across the pond.
When she is not creating vibrant characters and magical adventures on the page, she is roaring her own battle cry in the war against ovarian cancer. Ms. McCollum slayed the cancer beast and resides with her very own Highland hero, rescued golden retriever, and three kids in the wilds of suburbia on the mid-Atlantic coast. For more information about Ms. McCollum, please visit www.HeatherMcCollum.com.
URL and Social Media links:
Facebook: facebook.com/HeatherMcCollumAuthor
Twitter: twitter.com/HMcCollumAuthor
Pinterest: pinterest.com/hmccollumauthor/
Instagram: instagram.com/heathermccollumauthor/
Also by Heather McCollum…
Highland Heart
Captured Heart
Tangled Hearts
Untamed Hearts
Crimson Heart
The Beast of Aros Castle
The Rogue of Islay Isle
The Wolf of Kisimul Castle
The Devil of Dunakin Castle
Discover more Amara titles…
On Highland Time
a novel by Lexi Post
When someone changes history, affecting the future, Diana Montgomery, the most experienced agent of Time Weavers, Inc., travels back to 1306 Scotland to change it back. Her mission, to find the culprit and ensure a minor clan chief dies in battle as he originally had. What she’s not prepared for is Torr MacPherson, the ruggedly handsome warrior with a kind heart and a steadfast loyalty—the Laird she’s supposed to ensure dies.
How to Train Your Baron
a What Happens in the Ballroom novel by Diana Lloyd
When Elsinore Cosgrove escapes a ballroom in search of adventure, she has no idea it will lead to a hasty marriage. Now she’s engaged to an infuriating, handsome Scottish baron who doesn’t even know her name! But Elsinore is determined to mold her baron into the husband she wants. Quin Graham is a man with many secrets. If another scandal can be avoided with a sham marriage, so be it. Only his fiancée isn’t at all what he’s expecting. For reasons he’s unwilling to explain, the last thing Quin needs is to fall for his wife.
A Rake’s Redemption
a Rake novel by Cynthia Breeding
To escape an arranged marriage, Inis dresses as a boy and stows away on a ship bound for London. Before long, she’s working as an indentured servant in a livery stable, only to then be lost in a game of cards to a rakishly handsome lord who seems to enjoy bucking convention as much as she does. Keeping her identity secret becomes more important than ever when Inis hears of Lord Alexander Ashley’s feelings regarding aristocratic ladies and his outlandish idea to prove a servant can be taught to be every bit as ladylike as those born to it.
The Devilish Duke
a novel by Maddison Michaels
Devlin Markham, the “Devil Duke” of Huntington, needs a woman. And not just any woman. If he can’t woo eccentric bluestocking Lady Sophie Wolcott within the month, he can kiss his fortune goodbye. But he finds love a wasted emotion and marriage an inconvenience. And Sophie seems unmoved by
his charm… When Sophie learns her orphanage is in danger, she’ll do anything to save it. Even marry a ruthless rake. Even one targeted by a killer.
A Rose in the Highlands (Highland Roses School) Page 32