Her Highland Destiny

by Leanne Burroughs

Catherine drew him closer. Her head to his chest, she heard the racing of his heart. His pain that never healed was now her pain. She murmured words of encouragement.

  He moved away and looked into her face. “I loved him, Cat, and he threw me away. He did not want me!” His voice caught. “What did I do wrong? Why couldn’t he love me?”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Catherine thought her heart would break. Her brave, strong husband sat before her like a little boy lost. She drew him close and kissed his forehead, his eyes, his nose, brushed her lips gently over his mouth.

  Duncan clearly didn’t realize it, but the war he’d waged with his father was finally drawing to a close. He’d just called him Da. Not my da, my father, or that auld man, but Da. In no way did she think his pain would fade any time soon, but the first steps toward healing had begun.

  She just had to figure out how to get him back to speak with his father. She tried a different tact. “Was your father upset about another possible battle?”

  Duncan drew back from her embrace, a hint of a smile etching his lips. “Changing the subject, are we?”

  Catherine shrugged, but couldn’t hide her smile. “Obvious, am I?”

  “Aye.”

  She refused to give in. “Was he?”

  “Nay. Actually, he already knew. He surprised me when he told me about it.”

  “How did he take the news about Siobhán?”

  “That the silly lass wants her wedding at the chapel there? Ah, don’t look at me like that. In truth, I understand why she wants it there. And in doing so, she honors him by having the wedding at the castle while he still lives.”

  He rubbed his hand over the stubble of his beard. “So, do you think you could plan a wedding quickly?”

  “When would it be?” She imagined he’d say a moon’s passing. A bit of a rush, but she could throw a lovely wedding by then.

  “Within a sennight.”

  “Duncan MacThomas, are you daft? I cannot possibly put together a proper wedding that quickly. They could not cry the first bann by then.”

  Duncan patiently explained. “The priest at Castle Glenshee has agreed to perform the ceremony, granting dispensation for needs of haste because of Da’s health. You just need must arrange everything else.”

  “I cannot possibly...”

  “You can do anything you set your mind to. You are the most amazing woman I e’er met.” He held her close and ran his hand over her back. “Just a simple Highland ceremony—with a nice celebration afterward, of course.”

  Catherine tilted her face up to his and he bent to kiss her.

  “Duncan...” She stepped back. “You just told me I have less than a sennight to plan a wedding. I do not have time for that right now.”

  She turned and dashed for the kitchen.

  Duncan frowned, mumbling, “There is something else you would rather do?”

  Catherine stopped with her hand on the door. A smile swept across her face. “Nay, husband. I would rather stay here with you, but for once that will have to wait.”

  As she swept through the doorway, Duncan cocked a brow. He’d not meant her to hear his words. He headed outside to join his men on the training field, needing to work out his frustration.

  ~ * ~

  Catherine was amazed at how quickly everyone brought the wedding together. Her stomach felt queasy as she bustled about. Probably from the frenzy of activity.

  Before the light of dawn she rose and dressed. Everyone would arrive shortly and she wished to make changes to the upcoming meal. Suddenly lightheaded, she shook her head to clear it, thinking she’d risen too quickly.

  She headed down to the castle’s massive kitchen to find MacThomaidh’s cook preparing bread for the day’s activities.

  The heavyset, elderly man nodded in greeting.

  Hearing her husband’s voice in the Great Hall, Catherine dashed out of the kitchen. Barely through the door, dizziness assailed her again and she slumped to the floor.

  At her side in two long strides, Duncan cradled her in his arms and tried to rouse her.

  Catherine opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I did not hear you arrive, husband. I am pleased you are here so early.”

  “Woman,” Duncan barked in an effort to cover his worry. “Why did you just faint?”

  Catherine tried to sit up although Duncan held her firmly. “Do not be silly, husband. I never faint.” She stopped a moment. “Well, except for one other time. And then again when I fell down the ravine after that madman chased me.”

  “Och, you just like sitting on the ground?”

  Looking around, Catherine realized she was, indeed, on the ground. Suddenly she felt awkward, not knowing how to respond. “I confess I know not what happened, Duncan. I felt lightheaded, but am fine now. Please let me up. I have much I must do.”

  Duncan helped her rise and guided her to the Great Table. “You will do naught until we break our fast.”

  Cook signaled servants to bring the food when everyone was seated at tables. Since the MacThomaidh didn’t feel well enough to come down the stairs, Duncan sat in the head chair with Catherine beside him.

  Speaking with men seated nearby, Duncan kept a watchful eye on Catherine. She was right. She wasn’t prone to fainting spells. Although she mentioned there’d been one other time. He wondered when.

  And why now?

  A strange look suddenly crossed Catherine’s face. She jumped up from the table and dashed outside.

  Duncan swore and followed her. What was amiss? He found her beside the castle, doubled over in pain. The contents of her stomach lay scattered on the ground.

  Smiling weakly, Catherine ran a hand over her face and breathed deeply.

  “The day’s events must have beset me more than I thought. I shall be fine, husband. Pray worry not. Once the day is over, I shall be fit as ever.”

  Duncan took her hand and led her back inside, hoping her words proved true.

  ~ * ~

  By mid-afternoon all the guests had arrived. Catherine was pleased Grant and Tory had been able to extend their visit to stay for the wedding. Catherine left Duncan to chat with them while she went upstairs to check on Siobhán.

  When she opened the door, she found her friend sitting on the bed, staring ahead. Catherine closed the door and went to sit beside her.

  “Worried?” she soothed.

  Siobhán nodded, a sheen of tears in her eyes.

  “Dougal Mackean is a kind man, Siobhán. He shall care well for you.”

  “’Tis naught that which worries me.”

  Catherine wrapped her arms around Siobhán and squeezed. “You needn’t worry. He is a rogue no more, my dear. He loves you too much to be unfaithful.”

  Siobhán smiled faintly, embarrassed. “But he is so handsome. What if I do not please him? What if I cannot bear a bairn like...?” The instant the words were out of her mouth, she stifled a gasp. “Oh Cat, I did not mean…”

  Catherine hastened to assure her, “I know you did not. I try to accept I shall never bear Duncan’s child. If he can forgive me for that flaw, I must ask God for strength to see His wisdom.”

  Siobhán stood and hugged Catherine. “Come, friend, help me dress.”

  Catherine brushed away her tears. “Aye, a handsome man awaits you outside the chapel.”

  ~ * ~

  Catherine headed to the steps outside Glenshee’s chapel. Her husband stood talking with Grant and Tory. Raising up on her toes she placed a kiss on Duncan’s cheek, then turned to hug her guests.

  While so embraced, Tory whispered, “Duncan worries about you. He told me what happened this morn. Have you fainted before?”

  Catherine shook her head. “Nay, this morn was the first time.” She tilted her head as she thought. “Although my stomach has felt queasy nearly a sennight. ‘Tis just because I bustle about preparing for the wedding.”

  Tory looked into Catherine’s eyes. “Aye, probably so. Do you still take that herbal I gave you several moons back?
The one I insisted you keep taking?”

  Catherine made a sour face. “Aye, I have not forgotten. I am glad you love your husband so much, else I would wonder if you poisoned me so you could have Duncan.”

  “I am happy with my Highland rogue.” Tory linked her arm though her husband’s, a wide smile crossing her face.

  When Siobhán walked to the chapel, Catherine smiled at the glint that lit Siobhán’s eyes when she saw her future husband. Blushing, Dougal rocked on the balls of his feet. How fortunate they had been to find each other. She loved her dear friend and knew this marriage would be a happy one.

  Siobhán moved beside him and he tenderly grasped her hand, holding it between both of his.

  The priest stepped forward to begin the ceremony. Catherine looked over those gathered and saw The MacThomaidh sitting on a chair near the others, too weak to stand. Instinct warned too soon the priest would be performing funeral rites for their clan Chief. It would not be an easy time for her husband...her Highland rogue.

  Her Highland destiny.

  Catherine turned her attention back to the present. For now she’d concentrate on the task of life. Death would intercede soon enough.

  “Friends...” Joining Siobhán’s and Dougal’s right hands, the priest covered them with a small cloth Catherine had embroidered for the occasion. He intoned God’s blessings on their lives.

  After they received the marriage blessing, the priest gave Dougal the kiss of peace. With a lump in her throat, Catherine watched Dougal lean forward and pass the kiss on to his new bride.

  Catherine tried to keep tears from falling, although happy for the two lovers. She couldn’t help but remember her own wedding day when Duncan turned his back to her and refused to give her the kiss of peace like Dougal had just given to Siobhán. She’d been embarrassed down to the tips of her toes, wondered what everyone thought. After all, she’d seen the pity on their faces.

  She bit her lip to keep from crying. Curse him for giving her such a sad memory.

  Curse him for not loving her when she loved him more than life itself.

  ~ * ~

  Later in the Great Hall, Duncan and Grant seated The MacThomaidh in his large chair. Although clearly tired, he insisted on presiding over their festivities. Catherine knew that meant a lot to Dougal. Knew it meant a lot to Duncan’s father. And there seemed to be a temporary truce between father and son.

  Everyone joined in festivities. Jugglers performed and people danced, ate, and sang their way through the eve.

  Duncan stayed nearby. He lightly caressed her cheek with his hand, ran his fingertips over the curve of her mouth, pressed his cheek to her hair.

  He pushed all thoughts of Robert Bruce’s possible actions aside as his wife’s lady’s maid and dearest friend was wed.

  Siobhán was a beautiful bride, but glancing sideways at his wife, he thought Catherine far outshined the new bride. If only he’d paid attention to her at their own wedding. Regrettable actions often came back to haunt a person—often for a lifetime. As he’d watched the blessed ceremony that had just ended, he knew he’d forever ruined that day for his own bride.

  ~ * ~

  Catherine smiled as she watched Dougal with Siobhán. Pleased with her friends’ happiness, she couldn’t keep tears from flowing down her cheeks. She’d grown to love the two people who’d just professed their love to each other.

  Siobhán joined her new husband on what was now being used as a dance floor. Tables still heavily laden with food had been pushed to the side of the room, allowing people to feast throughout the night.

  “Dance with me,” Duncan whispered in Catherine’s ear. When the musicians started to play, she gladly obliged.

  Throughout the evening Duncan watched Cat. Occasionally she stared wistfully at the happy bride and groom. Now she sat cradled in his arms as she listened to the bard weave his magical tales. Duncan handed her a cup of mead. “Dougal told me earlier the ache and emptiness he felt his entire life are gone. He has finally found the other half of his heart.”

  Catherine felt a lump in her throat. She’d found the other half to her heart, too. If only she could tell him.

  Nearing the midnight hour and many drinks later, Duncan rose from his chair and went to speak with the priest.

  Catherine walked about the Hall, ensuring everyone had a wonderful time. The woman never rested.

  He circled the room and spoke to several of his men, then headed for Catherine. “Come, wife, we have something we must do.”

  Catherine backed away. “Duncan, we cannot leave the celebration. Dougal and Siobhán will be hurt.”

  “We are not leaving.” He dragged her behind him. By the saints, this was something he should have done a long time ago.

  While he led her behind him, Catherine looked back to see Grant and Dougal helping The MacThomaidh to his feet.

  What were these men up to? Was The MacThomaidh finally letting them take him to his bedchamber? He’d pushed himself past all measures of endurance.

  Soon the priest rushed past them and headed toward the chapel. Duncan followed behind him, as did all the guests.

  Catherine paled. Was something amiss? Why did everyone return to the chapel? Was it his father?

  Duncan led her all the way to the chapel’s door, then turned her to face him. He cupped her chin in his hand. Standing tall, his words resonated throughout the room. “Catherine Gillingham MacThomas, will you marry me?”

  Catherine thought her knees would buckle. She was glad Duncan had one arm wrapped around her waist.

  “Wh...what?” Her voice failed her.

  “I brought you to our chapel to do it right this time. Will you marry me—again?”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks. Duncan no longer held her chin, but she didn’t turn away. Her eyes locked on his.

  “Do you mean it?” she asked breathily.

  “I never meant anything more in my life. I ruined your original wedding day and would like to rectify that. Since my dearest friends are all here, I should like them to witness this as well. The only person missing is Tamara.”

  Catherine was afraid to move. She feared herself dreaming and if she moved the spell would be broken.

  Duncan tilted her chin up and lightly kissed her mouth. “Please?” The words were a whisper against her lips.

  She couldn’t speak, but nodded. Surely she’d never been so happy.

  At ceremony’s end, Cat knew that for a falsehood.

  Duncan said his wedding vows freely this time, smiling down at her all the while. And at ceremony’s end he gave her the kiss of peace. She thought her heart would burst and take wing. This was the happiest moment of her life, and a sense of wonder and amazement overwhelmed her.

  Her friends and family all looked pleased.

  When jests grew too ribald, Duncan took his bride’s hand and rose to depart the Great Hall.

  Aided by two clansmen, MacThomaidh crossed to Catherine and placed a kiss on her cheek. She detected a hint of tears in the crusty old man’s eyes.

  Chapter Thirty

  Catherine lay abed, basking in the afterglow of the night. She still couldn’t believe Duncan had married her again—willingly. She thought she’d burst with happiness when they repeated their vows. Not only had she said hers happily this time, Duncan freely voiced his. He’d pressed the back of his hand against her cheek as he said, “I do.” And instead of the simple kiss of peace, he kissed her until she thought her blood would boil—to the cheers of his clansmen.

  His father had looked so ill during the day’s festivities she feared his death was imminent. Somehow she had to get Duncan back to the castle to talk with him.

  She turned in his arms, ran her fingertips lightly over his chest. “Why did you want a second wedding ceremony?”

  “What?” He drew her closer.

  “Do not pretend to be deaf. Why was it important to have our ceremony at Castle Glenshee?”

  Duncan didn’t answer. Instead buried his face in her hair
.

  Catherine edged back. “Do not try to ignore me. ‘Tis important we discuss it.”

  Duncan sighed. “Father chose well for me. Except for his actions, I’d not have you in my life. I...owed it to him to let him know that.”

  Catherine smiled. “We do owe your father. I know you do not want to return, but you should speak with him. You made a beginning the other day. You must go back.”

  “I do not need to—”

  “Stubborn man,” she interrupted. She placed a finger to his lips to silence his argument. “Duncan, I know you are upset about your childhood. You have every right to be, but you do not know everything.”

  “He left me,” Duncan groused. “What else need I know?”

  Catherine drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around him. “Your father did not want to leave you.”

  Duncan bolted upright. “Do not speak such nonsense. He could not wait to rid himself of me.”

  “I cannot tell you why he sent you from him. If you wish the answer, you will speak with him. I can tell you after he left you, he almost returned to take you home.”

  “Where did you get such a daft notion?”

  “While helping Tamara at the castle, I came upon your father staring out the door leading to the garden. When he turned to look at me, he looked like his heart was breaking. He told me he was remembering the day he left you.”

  “I believe none of it”—Duncan shifted position and held her in his arms—“but I shall return to the castle. Just to silence you.”

  ~ * ~

  The next day he rode to Castle Glenshee and headed upstairs to see his father.

  He knocked, entered without waiting. Inside the doorway, Duncan paused, nearly swaying as the breath felt knocked from him. He finally moved to sit at bedside, staring at his father. The man had always looked larger than life. Now he appeared a shadow of his former self.

  Duncan swallowed hard, knowing his father would soon cross to Heaven. His beautiful wife was right. He needed to know the truth—now.

  “What did I do wrong?”

  Before a fit of coughing stopped him, MacThomaidh frowned and asked, “When?”