Fianna Leighton - Tales of Clan Mackay

by Return to the Highlands

“Go on and drink,” Mary said, shaking out the blanket, shuddering at the dust flying off from it. “I’m doing what I am, ye’ll not say nay.” She sent him a glare when he rose to do just that and he sat back down meekly.

  “If ye insist,” Wesley said.

  “I do.”

  “I told you she would not have it otherwise,” she heard Nicholas say.

  “Damn women,” Wesley complained, but the tone of his voice had changed into amusement.

  Mary washed the dishes and put them on the shelf over the fireplace. She swept out the ashes and carried them outside, wiping her cheek. Nicholas motioned and she felt her cheek again and noticed the soot on her fingers. She sniffed and went back inside.

  The clothes, what few he had of those, looked alarmingly in disrepair. Mary decided she’d send one of the girls back to him to take care of that.

  Wesley had little food. Opening a cupboard, she screamed when two mice stared up at her, nibbling on what had been a loaf of bread.

  Nicholas stormed through the door and then stopped to find her with the poker from the fireplace. He caught it before she could demolish the cupboard.

  “They’ll not hurt you , lass.”

  “They are disgusting. Eating his bread!”

  Nicholas peered at the loaf. “I’d say they can have it. It’s quite moldy.”

  Mary had to agree. “He needs food.”

  “Aye, perhaps.”

  Mary stalked outside. Nicholas followed curiously.

  “Ye need food,” Mary declared to Wesley.

  He sighed. “I’m fine, my lady.”

  “Ye are not. I will be sending a girl here to take care of yer clothes and she will bring ye enough until ye are on yer feet.”

  Nicholas folded his arms over his chest, fingers pressed against his lips.

  “Lady, I cannot pay for that,” Wesley muttered.

  “I do not expect ye to pay,” Mary declared.

  Wesley’s head came up, chin high as he scowled. “I ain’t takin’ no charity.”

  “Bloody stubborn Highlander,” Mary hissed. She looked at the cottage and then the hills. A single cow grazed a fair distance away, a white dot against the green. “The cows breed in the late summer sometimes don’t they?”

  Wesley rubbed his chin. “Aye, sometimes.”

  She looked at Nicholas. “I’ll take the calf when she is born.”

  Nicholas nodded faintly.

  Wesley shook his head. “Ain’t no certainty in that, my lady. Tis rare enough. Besides…”

  Mary interrupted, rudely. “There will be one. And when it’s born bring it to me.”

  “One calf ain’t hardly enough, besides, it’d be yers already,” Wesley declared, nearly wringing his hands.

  She spied a mother cat, her teats hanging low as she stalked near the cottage. “I’ll take one of the kittens.”

  Nicholas chuckled quietly, amused. “Not enough,” he said in a low voice.

  Mary sighed dramatically as Wesley peered up at her, mouth open to argue as well.

  Nicholas dropped a hand to her shoulder and took over the conversation. “I’ll take that bench you promised me before I left, for Ann in her garden. Have it done by the harvest and we’ll come to get it.”

  Wesley closed his mouth and then nodded. “Aye, a fair deal then, lad.”

  Nicholas held out his hand and they shook on it. “A fair deal indeed.”

  The sound of horses brought them all around to find Donald arriving with another packhorse.

  Donald dismounted, tossing the deep blue plaid he wore over his shoulder. He pulled a bag from the back of his horse and tossed it at Nicholas. “Heading to the point?”

  Wesley grinned. Nicholas leaned against the side of the cottage. “I might.” He peered into the bag Donald had brought. “And what’s this?”

  “Ann sent it. She said if ye mean to keep the lass out after dark ye should have come prepared.”

  Mary eyed Nicholas curiously. “What is the point?” She glanced at the men around her and then frowned at Nicholas. “Or perhaps where,” she amended.

  “Tis a bit of a ride up near the heights of Ben Loyal, love,” Nicholas explained. “I thought you would like to see it.”

  Mary knew there was more to it, but accepted his explanation, for now. “I see,” she said. She looked at Donald as he unloaded things from the packhorse. “What are you here for?”

  “I’ve come to do some work for Wesley,” Donald replied. He handed a bag to Mary. “If ye’d take that inside, lass?”

  Dismissed, Mary lifted a brow but nodded, going inside the cottage with the bag. Once inside she shut the door but then turned to listen, her ear pressed against the door.

  Donald’s voice was almost too low to hear but she did understand the warning. “Ye will be careful, lad.”

  She could hear Nicholas tying the package Ann had sent to his horse. “I will.”

  Mary heard Donald sit down beside Wesley on the bench, the wood groaning at the weight. His voice made her flinch, being so close. She held her breath, just behind him at the door.

  “’Tis a dangerous place, the point. Macleod lands are not far, a good two or three days ride.” Donald declared quietly. “He knows ye are home.”

  “Aye,” she heard Nicholas reply. “I am sure he does. But I will still be on Mackay land.”

  Donald grunted sourly. “Word has spread, Nicky. There are some who might come looking for ye.”

  “I’m not concerned, Da.”

  “Well ye should be, damn you. Ye are vulnerable now, don’t ye understand?”

  Mary breathed shallowly and then stepped back to bang a few things around, then hurried back to the door, her back to the wall.

  “…take her if they can,” Wesley was saying.

  “Ye know what can happen then, boy,” Donald growled. “No better than what Ann went through. Have ye thought of that?”

  “I can protect her. No one knows we will be there,” Nicholas insisted.

  “No, but knowing ye have a lass, it’s a place many would assume ye’d take her.”

  Mary frowned. What kind of place was this?

  She tossed a shoe across the room, then the other to make noise.

  “…taken precautions,” Nicholas said in a low voice she had to strain to hear.

  “A dirk, man, is not enough,” Wesley complained.

  She heard Nicholas growl and then the sound of something striking the side of the cottage. The men seemed to use physical measures as much as verbal ones, much as her brothers did. Men, Mary thought with a roll of her eyes.

  She heard footsteps and scrambled across the room, picking up the bag. Donald opened the door and looked inside. She knew by his gaze he was aware she’d been listening. He stepped inside and closed the door.

  “Ye heard?”

  “Aye.”

  “He means to go, whether or not we wish it. ‘Tis why I am here, Mary.” Donald looked about, wrinkling his nose. “Ach, didn’t think he’d let it go this bad. Well, time to do some good. I suppose I will be repairing a few things now that I am here.”

  “Wesley agrees?”

  Donald smiled arrogantly. “He won’t argue with me. Ye’ve already done wonders, shame on me for not checking him sooner. I will send a woman down to do some more cleaning.”

  Mary crossed the room to kiss Donald’s cheek. “That is very kind of ye.”

  “Aye, but don’t let it get round, hear. They’ll think me soft,” Donald complained. “Have a care on the mountain, lass. Any trouble, ye hightail it back here to us.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “I hope not, but word has come the Macleod knows of Nicholas. And the Earl has been most disagreeable of late.”

  Mary sighed. “I trust Nicholas to know what he’s doing. I am sure we’ll be fine.”

  She reached for the door, but Donald caught her arm. “Yer shoes, lass.”

  She looked do
wn at her feet and then, blushing, hurried to pick up her shoes.

  Donald chuckled as she shut the door.

  ***

  Nicholas held out his hand when Mary hurried from the cottage, her shoes in hand. He took them from her and tucked them into the bag under his leg, and then reached down to pull her firmly across his lap. Arms around her waist, he nodded farewell to his father and then smiled at Wesley. “The bench mind you , and whatever else Da orders. You can offer me a drink when I come to pick things up.”

  Wesley patted his chest, eyes twinkling. “I’ll be frugal, my lord, and be quick about the furniture. The lass might be needing some more if things go right for ye.” He winked at Mary.

  Mary snorted softly, her fingers gripping Nicholas’s arm as they ambled off down the path. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”

  “Mmm,” Nicholas answered, his lips against her hair.

  “So this place, this point, it sounds like a popular spot.”

  “Aye, ‘tis.”

  She slid her fingers to his chest. Nicholas grunted as she slid them lower. “What are you doing, Mary?”

  “Being wicked, lad.”

  He was hard enough already with her sitting on his lap. He thought briefly at shifting her into a more appeasing position but thought better of it; the terrain was already difficult to maneuver on horseback. He sighed and captured her fingers. “Perhaps later, the ride is not easy, Mary.”

  She looked disappointed but then smiled. “So why are they so concerned?”

  “Eavesdropping, aye?”

  “Wisely, perhaps,” she agreed.

  Nicholas shifted her so she straddled the horse in front of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and then kissed her neck. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Ye are pretty sure of that,” Mary whispered.

  “Aye, I am. ‘Tis a fine view there, but also well defensible. Trust me.”

  “So no one will see us,” she replied, turning to look at him.

  Nicholas grinned. “Nay, it will be dark soon after we get there.”

  “So ye planned this all along?”

  “I thought you would like to get away.”

  Mary sighed. He kissed her shoulder, imagining just what he planned to do when she spoke up again.

  “So, Nicholas, can it be done on horseback then?”

  Laughing, he nearly fell off the horse. “Mary, lass, what will I do with you ?”

  Mary sighed, but he caught the smile she sent back at him. “If I have to tell ye, then it’s a sorry man I’ve married.”

  ***

  Mary grew silent as the ride progressed higher into the mountains. They left what little trail there was to arrive at a small outcrop of stone. Nicholas dismounted and then lifted Mary down gently. “The horse can go no further,” he said as he removed the halter from its neck. “He’ll stay here. We will have to continue on foot.”

  Mary nodded, noting that the event must happen quite often for the horse to remain nearby. She followed Nicholas up the hill, hitching her skirts up to her knees to see where she went. Rocks stuck out at all angles, which meant leaping over them, or skirting around them. Nicholas tended to leap, his long legs clearing small gaps with ease, while Mary found it more difficult, her stays too tight to breathe enough air, and fearing she’d twist an ankle as well.

  After one inglorious effort in which Nicholas happened to pause to watch, Mary sat down to catch her breath. “Fine and well ye may be, Highlander, but I am not used to such things.” She inhaled sharply and then looked at him. “Ye are not breathing so hard anymore. How do you feel?”

  He crouched down behind her, kissing her ear. “Better, I can almost breathe normally now. Let me loosen your ties.”

  She exhaled a relieved sigh when the laces loosened. “Thank you , I did not expect to be climbing mountains.”

  “You do not need such things, lass.”

  “Perhaps not in yer mind,” Mary argued brightly, standing up to face him. “But modesty suggests strongly that I wear them.”

  He pulled her against his chest, fingers lifting her chin. “We are not in Drymen, nor at court, nor anywhere near where such modesty is required, Mary. You can wear anything you wish.”

  “Or nothing at all if ye’d have your way,” Mary surmised.

  Nicholas chuckled. “If I could, aye.” He kissed her, his lips hungry, hands shifting to hold her hips against him.

  Mary pushed him away. “If ye start that here, we won’t go any further.”

  He grinned and then lifted her off the rock to the ground. “Aye, well enough. Follow me, but be careful. Tell me if you need help.”

  They climbed for a long while, until the sun began to sink toward the horizon. The hills below were swatches of green and gold, a small hamlet sat a distance away, the smoke from chimneys a grey smear in the sky. Behind the village, the kyle sparkled in the sun, much bigger and wider than she expected. “What is that?” she asked, pointing at the water.

  “It is called a kyle,” Nicholas explained. “An inlet of the sea actually, if you look close you can see the tide is out.”

  She could see wide areas of exposed beach along the shore.

  “The hamlet is called Tongue, from an old Viking word that means village.”

  She laughed. “It is an odd name.”

  “If you spoke Norse it would not be,” Nicholas said, smiling. “Varrich in scot is Casteal Bhairrach.

  “But e speak English more often,” she noted.

  “Aye, because of the English, but we also speak the Gaelic.”

  She did as well, Scot, English and even Hungarian. All because of traditions passed down through the family. She wondered if Nicholas knew much of his Pictish heritage. She didn’t have time to ask as he pulled her further up the hill until finally they reached a wide stone ledge that seemed to drop off the end of the world. She stood nervously near the hillside while Nicholas went to stand in the wind with his toes on the very edge of the cliff.

  “It is beautiful, Mary,” he said, turning to hold out a hand. “Come, it’s safe enough. You won’t fall.”

  Mary did, clutching at his hand for balance until she was beside him and wrapped in his embrace. The world seemed to lay below them, the kyle, and beyond it, the distant sea. The mountain peaks were gilded gold by the sun setting behind them, the green grass brilliantly emerald, the sky deep blue. She could understand why he wanted her to come.

  Nicholas drew back from the edge. “Sit, we’ll see what Ann has sent and have a bite to eat.”

  He pulled out a soft plaid that he handed to Mary. She wrapped the cloth around her, glad to have it against the chill breeze. A bottle of ale came next, and a goblet to share, as well as some oat cakes wrapped in cloth, goat cheese and a loaf of bread.”

  “She did well,” Nicholas said, offering Mary the ale.

  “So she knew where ye were going?”

  “Aye.”

  “So why make Donald bring it to ye?” Mary asked confused.

  “She didn’t want us to go alone,” Nicholas admitted. “It was a bit of manipulation, on her end.”

  “She told Donald where ye were going and that was that.”

  Nicholas handed her a piece of cheese. “She told me that if I meant to go, she’d be sending Donald after me. In order for him not to interrupt a perhaps, delicate situation, I told her to have him meet us at Wesley’s cottage. Donald had already declared his intent to go there anyways.”

  Mary nibbled on the cheese and studied Nicholas. His cheeks had grown ruddy from the wind, his eyes bright against the glare. “Ye belong here, Nicholas.”

  He sighed, staring out over the hills. “Aye, I do.”

  “Did ye miss it?”

  He settled on the rock with his head on her lap. “I did, although I did not want to admit it for a long time.”

  “Rory knew,” Mary said.

  “He did,” Nicholas agreed. “I swear he can read my min
d some days.”

  She laughed at the thought. “Aye, he reads you. I am surprised he didn’t follow ye today.”

  Nicholas closed his eyes. “I made him promise not to.”

  Mary slid her fingers into his hair, admiring the silky lengths. “Yer hair is like a woman’s Nicholas, it’s soft as silk.”

  He smiled, eyes still closed. “Hmm, but you knew that already.”

  “And how is that?”

  “You washed it after you brought me home, and shaved me; I wonder what else.”

  She nearly blushed at the memory. “I did what needed to be done, Highlander. Ye were very sick, dirty and needed care.”

  “I don’t think I have ever thanked you, Mary.”

  She leaned over to press a kiss to his brow. “Ye are welcome, Nicholas.”

  They sat until the stars began to twinkle overhead, with Mary curled beneath the shawl and encased in Nicholas’s arms. She shivered in the chill.

  “Nicholas?”

  “Hmm, aye?”

  “I have something to ask, but I fear it may upset ye.”

  “You can ask me anything, Mary.”

  “Branwen, why do ye dislike her?”

  “Do we have to discuss her?”

  “No, but I would know why.”

  “She’s not who she pretends to be,” Nicholas explained. “From the first day I met her I felt uneasy. We do not get along, and she is partly why I left.”

  “Does Hugh know?”

  “No, and you will never tell him so.”

  She shivered at the command. “I won’t. But ye said to take care. She would not hurt anyone, would she?”

  Nicholas kissed her. “I wish not to speak of her anymore. You and I have other things to do.”

  She dropped the shawl to untie the rest of her stays. “Aye, tis dark now, Nicholas. What would ye like to do?”

  He pushed her back against the shawl to lean over her. “This,” he said and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss held promise, his arms as they came around her held her tight, yet another promise to hold her dear. Mary sighed as he continued his way lower, anticipation made her tremble.

  His kisses sparked fires wherever they pressed, her body craved his touch as she arched against him. The feel of him made her moan, his fingers found their way to her thighs, hitching up the fabric of her dress.