Highland Portrait

by Shelagh Mercedes

  With the fluid grace of a dancer, waltzing to a steady heartbeat heavy with the heat of life, Robbie reached for Stella’s hand, holding it between his own, giving her hand the room and freedom to withdraw. But she did not. Stella looked into Robbie’s eyes and he saw there not passion and fire, but wonder and something else he could not define. Was it hope? Was it love? Was she coming to the call of his magic?

  “I want just one word that would reveal everything, leaving nothing hidden. If I could write that word then I would give t’ ye the only gift I rightly have t’ give ye, Stella. Myself.”

  Robbie swallowed hard hoping that what was happening to him was happening to her. He could feel the falling away of the wall between them revealing behind it the magic of warmth and luster and promise.

  “But I have no word, lass. Only a love that is, for now… wordless.” Robbie looked at her beautiful mouth and trembled as he looked at her full, pink lips, so soft, so hard to turn away from, as if her lips alone could satisfy him. Lips that had tempted him beyond reason from the moment he first beheld them.

  “But Stella, I will trade ye one word, for…one…kiss.” Robbie’s breathing halted, he was numb with fear that he had gone too far but the barely perceptible nod of her head sent rockets of desire through him and he gently leaned down to capture her sweet lips. Stella arched her body upwards, like a flower opening to the sun, the bud shooting from the safety of a woody stem. Her heart opened like a birdcage and allowed love and trust to fly out toward another human being and love and trust were exchanged and flew back to her.

  As Robbie drew near he tightened his grip on her trembling hand. He touched his lips to hers and his world suddenly became a sensory firecracker, blazing with the color, sound and smell of her, an eruption of the senses he had never known before. He felt as though some unseen hand had ripped away the last fragments of earth vision and allowed him a glimpse into a supernatural realm that was more real than anything he had experienced as an earthbound human. He stepped with thanksgiving and wonder into this new world of Stella.

  Stella dropped her pencil and with her unclaimed hand drew his head nearer, deepening the kiss to transmit to him all the wonder and awe she felt at his touch. Robbie pulled her tighter, taking control of her body, allowing the pulse beat of his heart to communicate to her all the longing and wonder he had felt since he first saw her. Was it only three days ago? It seemed as if they had been together for eternity. The thought of being separated from her was too much for him, he needed to be where she was, to always be close to her.

  Having forgotten to breathe, Stella gasped for breath, Robbie’s hold having given her little room for air. He immediately loosened his hold on her, but held her near, not daring to let her go, not now when her defenses had opened up and allowed him her lips.

  “Och, lass, I am sorry, I did not mean t’ squeeze ye.” Robbie gently tucked a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. He was trembling with want, she could feel it in his arms, quivering as they held her, she could feel it in herself, her core wet from her desire for this barbarian, this warrior, this madman. There was an odd look about him that she had not seen before. It was the look Dorothy had when she stepped out of her black and white house into a Technicolor Oz. He looked like a knight in a new land, confused but intent on finding hidden treasures.

  “Uh. No, Robbie, I’m fine. I just…” Stella didn’t know what she just. Her world was swirling out of control, she was losing her balance and she suddenly was once again awash in the feeling of love and tenderness that she had felt so briefly in the studio. Now it was real, not just fleeting, but real. She shook her head slowly, not understanding. She gently pulled away from Robbie and he reluctantly let her go, holding on loosely, but allowing her all the room she needed if she had to leave him completely. But she did not.

  Trying to find reason in her changing heart, but not clear on how to process the new emerging information, she searched for her pencil, keeping her hands and eyes busy on the ground.

  “My pencil, Robbie, where is my pencil,” she was breathing rapidly not really giving a damn about her pencil, but needing time to slow down her pulse. Robbie reached to the ground by her knees and picked up her pencil, handing it to her.

  “Aye, here ‘tis, lass.” She took it and tucked it into her sketchbook which she set at her side. She took a deep breath and calmly looked at Robbie. This man, who claimed to have no words, had woven a magical web of words and captured her heart. He loved her and in saying so it was now needful for her to examine her own heart to meet the emotional challenge at hand. She had no experience at feelings of this depth and felt herself adrift on a sea of indecision and want. She hated being out of control and vulnerable and yet at the same time the vulnerability opened a new world of delicious need. Could she reach across that sea of indecision and grasp, even if just for a moment, the promise that he offered?

  She abruptly pulled away from Robbie and stood up, brushed down the woolen skirt over her jeans, picking leaves from the dark blue folds, as self conscious as a young girl on her first date.

  Robbie was immediately on his feet, standing next to her, his hand on her arm, keeping her close.

  “Stella?” if he had erred he would make it good, but he felt to the very core of himself that he had not erred, that she was just unsure of what was happening to her. She was still battling her resistance to him and he was determined to see it crumble. He knew he had the power to transform her, even as she had transformed him, as she had pierced his heart. She had come upon him through divine appointment and had scorned him, but he knew that soon she would seek him out, she would choose him.

  “Robbie, I need to think for a moment. Do you remember asking me how I knew you?”

  Robbie cocked his head to the side and he was on alert.

  “Aye, Lass, I remember. Will ye be telling me now?”

  “No, I can’t, not now, but I can tell you this. I have felt this…feeling before and it was from you. Before. Not here, but before.”

  Robbie’s look was puzzled. “I nay ken yer meaning, lass. A’fore when, exactly?”

  Stella shook her head to clear her thoughts. She looked at Robbie and he was lost in her eyes. “Robbie, how did that kiss make you feel?” she quizzed, her eyes soft as a does, earnest in their questioning.

  Robbie was still breathless from their kiss. He gently traced the side of her face, running his finger down her soft skin to her lips. “Lass, it was like none other. Did ye not feel it, too, Stella?”

  Suddenly she leaned toward him half smiling with that round eyed expression of surprise and mischief he was so familiar with, but now seemed so oddly new to him.

  “Let me demonstrate exactly how it made me feel.” Stella looked around her to see how the trees were laid out. The ground seemed reasonably level so raising her hands above her head, she ran just a few short steps and propelled herself into revolving cartwheels, moving through the trees effortlessly, stopping after four, Ferghus barking and jumping at her in excitement to see such a thing. When she halted she was far enough away from Robbie to feel safe from his magical touch.

  “Do you understand Robbie? Do you understand how I feel?” she shouted at him, but she was smiling and laughing and she turned and ran from him laughing and praying that he would chase her through the woods.

  Robbie, once again, struck with incredulity at the phenomenon of this woman whooped with laughter and gave chase. Now he was in familiar territory, now he felt his strength for Robbie loved nothing more than a hunt, a pursuit. It filled all his masculine urges to run down a quarry, to conqueror, to catch. He wanted her to know his passion, his strength, his commitment and he would not let her escape no matter how fast she ran. His heart and lungs expanded and he felt starlight pumping through his veins. His stealth and speed were a blur as he jumped over logs, dodging trees, and ran chasing the wood nymph’s laughter, the laughter of faeries and elves running through the tightly spaced trees. Ferghus took up the chase, too, barking and d
elighting in this great game. Robbie was now in his element, because he never failed to catch what he hunted.

  Abruptly Robbie came to a halt and listened. The laughter had stopped. He could not hear her running through the woods. As elfin as she was she had made a lot of noise crashing through the trees like a wounded deer and should be easy to catch. But Stella would have tricks about her, faerie magic to throw him off. Even Ferghus was silent. He stood still willing his eyes and ears, so practiced and wary, to catch even the slightest movement hear the smallest sound. She would not get away from him. He smiled as he heard a soft rustling in the brush behind him. She had circled around and was now running back to where they began giggling like a young girl.

  Robbie, his body a finely tuned machine, leapt in the direction of her laughter, closing in to finish the chase, to capture the quarry.

  Ferghus started barking again and running through the brush making enough racket even a blind man could follow. Stella was laughing and shouting at the silly dog to shut up. Her dress, a hindrance to running, was tucked up under her arm and her legs were pumping as she ran splashing across the small brook, moving quickly through the trees. Her heart was pounding not just from the physical exertion of keeping ahead of him, but from the realization that she wanted to be caught…but not yet. Keeping just out of Robbie’s reach was empowering her and protecting her from her draining resistance. Hearing Robbie close behind her she looked quickly around to find a place to hide. Spotting a tree that had some potential she bolted for it, grabbing the lowest hanging limb and swung her legs up to propel herself onto the branch but was caught mid-swing.

  She screamed with laughter as Robbie slammed into her grabbing her around her waist and fell with her, to the soft moss covered ground, twisting quickly to cushion her fall with his broad back. He held her tightly as she laughed, his body heated, his quarry caught, his appetite for her overwhelming. Swiftly he maneuvered her beneath him, splaying his length on top of her, his hips meeting hers. He grabbed her thigh with his hand and pulled it out from beneath him so he lay directly between her legs, the evidence of his passion pressed against her.

  “Ye cannot run from me, lass, I will always catch ye!” laughed Robbie. He looked into her golden eyes and was lost. “My god, Stella, I want ye.” His voice was smoky, sobering, filled with the excitement of a quarry caught and her laughter stopped. She grabbed his face with her palms and held onto him pulling him closer, losing herself to the passion that had run with them through the woods. Looking into his eyes she gave herself to this moment, this man. She arched up to him, in that age old feminine gesture of capitulation and invitation.

  As their lips met, he could feel his heart pounding and racing like a hammer, beating rhythmically against an anvil and he willed it to be calm, he would not spoil this with frenzy.... but it would not listen. Through the softness of her dress he could feel her same response and he closed his eyes even tighter and let the sensation pour over him like molten metal poured from a furnace crucible. He pressed closer and the kiss was complete...deep ... and all at once hard and tender... and warm... and urgent, sending sparks of emotion and turmoil and explosive sensation through his body. He felt her lips part ever so slightly...and he parted his and the tips of their tongues met...and then withdrew...and then met again, in a ritual of the passion they felt and desperately wanted to share. They were united, they were one if only for the moment. and the world stood still for them.

  Ferghus, unaware that the chase was now finished found them entwined on the woods floor and began barking and circling them, wanting the chase to continue for he had not yet tired of the game. Robbie lifted his head and took a swing at Ferghus, missing the hound who thought this was part of the game. The barking continued and Stella, shaken from her passion induced state, opened her eyes to their surroundings and started to laugh again.

  “Leave us, dog!” Robbie roared, looking around for a stick to throw at the dog but Stella interrupted his search.

  “Robbie! Don’t hit Ferghus,” she said laughing breathlessly. “He’s right, we need to get up and move on. We can’t do this out here. His barking could draw a crowd.”

  Robbie lifted himself up and rested his weight on his elbows, cradling Stella, pressing his hips into hers, wanting so desperately to finish this, but knowing that it was not where he wanted to take this woman. He wanted her in a marriage bed. Ferghus continued to pounce on him, barking and tugging at his trews. Robbie closed his eyes and thought about the Pythagorean Theorem, but could not recall it. The numbers, which were like breathing for him, were gone. He wasn’t even sure if he could remember what they looked like. He looked into Stella’s golden eyes and laughed.

  “Stella, ye dinna know what it is ye do t’ me.” Robbie dipped his face to hers, his forehead touching hers, but did not kiss her, afraid if he did he would not stop and he did not want to make love to her with a barking dog bouncing on and off his back. Robbie reached around to swing at the dog, missing again, “Ferghus, I’ll tie yer tail in a wee knot, dog!”

  Stella giggled and pressed her hips into his hardness.

  “Och, Stella, dinna do that, please, lass, ye and the dog will make a madman o’ me.”

  Suddenly, propelled by the need to keep and protect Stella, and the certainty that this woman was his future, Robbie got up and pulled her to her feet. Grabbing her hand he pulled her with him toward the horses. The feelings that she had summoned churned inside him and ran rampant through his mind. He had always considered himself more than adequate to the task of bedding with vigor and energy, but in those few brief moments she had reduced him to clay, sapping almost every ounce of stamina he had. Still, as they hurried along, the well began to fill again and he knew they weren't finished. Not yet.

  “Come w’ me, lass. We have something t’ take care of.”

  He walked quickly back to where they began, tramping through the water and back to the banks where the horses were tied. Arwen was resting her head on Grey’s withers, nibbling at his mane.

  Letting go of her hand he reached inside his saddle pack searching until he found a length of woolen string. It was tightly spun, making a yarn with strength to it. He took the yarn and wrapped it several times around Stella’s wrist. She looked at it with a small bit of alarm, wondering if this was some kind of kinky Highland sex game. She didn’t like kinky and her eyes became large with concern.

  “What are you doing, Robbie?” He didn’t answer but finished wrapping her wrist and using the rest of the length of cord he wrapped his own. He held up his hand, her hand bound to his and looked her in her eyes.

  “Stella, my love, hand fast w’ me. Say it, Stella, say aye t’ this hand fasting.” The laughter and passion was gone, leaving in its wake the sobering coolness of this summer glade, and the heated intent of Robbie’s fierce desire to tie her to him forever.

  “Robbie, I don’t know…what does this mean, I can’t…”

  “Say yes, Stella. That is the word, the one word that will bind our hearts. I say it t’ ye and in the saying I pledge myself t’ ye for all eternity. Yes, Stella. Ye are mine and I will ne’er leave ye, but shall search the world ov’r fer ye should we be parted. Say it, lass, say yes to this hand fasting.”

  Stella looked at their hands bound together with yarn. She looked at his large hand easily twice or thrice the size of her own and thought to say no, but was immediately swept with a feeling of abandonment that was piercing in its pain. She could not lose this man.

  “Hand fasting?” she looked at him wondering where this was going to take them. She could not envision a future with him, or without him. Would he follow her back to Texas. Could he? He found her in Texas, surely he could return!

  “Say yes, Stella. I need that word. That one word that will make ye mine. Please, my heart, say yes.”

  She looked at Robbie and acknowledged that he had drawn her reluctantly but hypnotically into the circle of his passion. Without asking permission he had implied intimacy as though it were a g
ift and not a privilege and it was now her task to decide whether she would allow him to continue to breach walls.

  Stella closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stepped off the precipice, spread her wings and flew. She opened her eyes and looked at Robbie.

  “Yes,” she tried to smile, but couldn’t so overcome was she with what she had said, what she had done, what she had agreed to. All of this was impossible, but she wanted it to happen and if it didn’t happen then she would make what short time she had left the most memorable of her life. She would live with the knowledge that she had loved greater, deeper and with more passion than 99% of the world.

  Robbie pulled her head to his and kissed her reverently, pressing their bound hands between them, sealing their commitment. She was now his and he thanked the gods that were in heaven that in three days his life had changed from the grey of morning mist to a brilliant burst of crimson sunrise. Robbie felt a joy within himself that he had gained the prize of her lips. Her kisses were his now, freely given.

  He was loath to pull away but the coming night held treasures yet to be uncovered and he was anxious to be at Dunollie and the marriage bed. He swiftly unwrapped his wrist from hers and using his dagger, cut a piece of the yarn, tying it around her wrist, a bracelet symbolic of the word she had given. He then unwrapped her hand fasted yarn and cut himself an identical bracelet, having her tie the yarn on his wrist.

  “We are hand fasted, now Stella. We are one.” He pulled her close, his hands sliding easily beneath her buttocks, cupping their firmness and held her tight, and kissed her again.

  Having a notion of what just happened Stella was at a loss for words over Robbie’s command and presence. He had performed this ceremony like he did everything else - with purpose, intensity and strength. That's what she loved about him...his fierceness. Everything he did reflected the earnestness of his character. There was little guile in him, which was frightening because guile disguised and softened a multitude of character flaws. There were always shadows and surprises with guile, but she knew that Robbie shot from the hip and that he had neither the time, nor the inclination to waste words and actions. What he did, he did from his heart and this action was unconfused with his intellect.