“Aye, they tell the stories far more eloquently than I ever could. Such things are old wife’s tales, of course, and the Protestants have seen to it that such idle talk of our past has nay place in polite circles. But the old stories will always exist—it would be a shame if they are forgotten,” Feargan said.
“Well, I shall certainly not forget that tale. I won’t be able to look out of the castle window without seeing the goddess striding along the glen and stumbling,” Catherine said, seemingly captivated by Feargan’s words.
“And we ourselves should head back if we are nae to stumble in the darkness of the forest. We have been out for most of the day already,” Feargan said, standing up and stretching. “At least now the food is inside us, rather than a burden upon our backs. We’ll take a drink and then begin our walk.”
The three drank from the loch and then made their way back into the trees, leaving the legend of the goddess behind them. Feargan’s words had fascinated Amelia and she resolved to go straight to the castle library just as soon as she was able in order to read more about the mysterious legends which surrounded Loch Beira and the Galbreth Clan. The history of this place was so much more interesting than her own. Her father’s title was the gift to his ancestors from some far back king after some far back battle. It had no air of mystery or intrigue attached to it.
Her home at Workington Hall was equally as uninteresting, nothing like the spectacular castle which appeared now as a far-off vision along the loch shore. She had led a sheltered life and despite her father’s involvement with the Jacobite cause, it had contained little of any excitement. How she longed for the adventures which Feargan spoke of. As they walked back through the woods, she allowed herself to picture this place, this beautiful place, as hers—mistress of all she surveyed, at Feargan’s side forever.
* * *
The three enjoyed a simple supper that evening, joined by Alexander Galbreth to whom Catherine recounted their excursion in detail. The elderly man reminded Feargan that he had missed out the detail of the goddesses’ husband she was racing home to. Such was her haste that she fell.
“He must have been an excellent husband,” Catherine observed, as she cleared her plate and yawned.
“Has the fresh air tired you out today, dear?” Amelia said, patting her sister’s hand.
“Usually I am not tired by such a walk, but perhaps the air here is different,” Catherine said. “Would you excuse me? I shall take to my bed, I think.”
The men both rose as Catherine bid them a good night and departed.
“Yer sister is quite a wee character, is she nae?” Alexander said, smiling at Amelia, who nodded her head.
“She is certainly that, and headstrong too,” Amelia replied.
“A credit to her upbringing, and to yer father and mother,” Alexander replied.
“Dear Mother, Catherine hardly knew her, of course. She was a dear thing, and the good Lord only knows what she would have made of all this,” Amelia replied, feeling tired herself.
“I am sure she would have been very proud of ye,” Alexander said. “Of both of ye, I ken Feargan’s dear mother would have been,” and he looked at Feargan who smiled and nodded his head.
“A toast,” he said, raising his glass, “to those we love but have lost,” and together they made the toast.
The three sat for a short while longer, the atmosphere between Feargan and Amelia now quite different. It was not long, though, before Amelia excused herself as well. She was tired but she also wished to read a little about the goddess she had heard of that afternoon. Taking up a candle she followed the corridors of the castle to the library, which was housed in the east wing, at the opposite end to her bedroom.
The corridors were dark and she picked her way along carefully. The candle expelled the darkness before her, with an occasional shaft of moonlight breaking through a window to guide her steps. She had only been into the library once and that was during the daytime, but tonight she had an insatiable curiosity to learn more about the tales she had heard from Feargan and Alexander.
The door to the library creaked on its rusty hinges but inside she found several candles which she lit from her own, illuminating the room with a flickering light. The walls were lined with shelves and a large table in the center contained various open manuscripts. She knew that Alexander Galbreth often spent time in study there and she held her candle over an open volume of Latin text, the words alien and unknown.
Amelia had received the schooling expected of any respectable young lady. Her French was good, and she could paint and draw. She knew a little history, and had good knowledge of the faith, instructed by religious sisters in Paris. But the limitations of her sex had ensured that her education went little further.
Now she held the candle aloft, running her eyes along the shelves for any books which might be of interest. There were volumes of law, geography and history, next to those of religion and politics. It took some time to find what she wanted but upon a far shelf she found it, Myths and Legends of Glen Beira,’ was the title and she eagerly pulled it out, taking it to the table and setting her candle down as she began to read.
The story of the goddess was there, alongside many others. She was fascinated by what she read, as the landscape and peoples of that beautiful place seemed to come alive. There was the legend of the encounter which a Galbreth had had with the devil upon the far shore of the loch and of the singing maidens who were meant to call out from the islands that they had seen that afternoon. She read of noble men and great warriors, mythical beasts, and battles of old. She was so absorbed that at first, she did not hear the door opening, until the squeaking of the rusty hinges startled her.
“I am sorry, I daenae realize ye were here,” Feargan said, standing in the doorway with a candle raised above his head.
“Oh, yes, I… it’s silly, I… I just wanted to read a little more about what you told us today. I found this wonderful book of myths and legends. It is a truly remarkable place,” she said, turning the volume towards him, as he came to stand next to her.
“Aye, the place is teeming with myths. How true they are I daenae ken, but there is some imagination here and that is for sure,” he said.
“Thank you for taking us on such a lovely excursion today, Feargan. I know that Catherine had a wonderful day, as did I,” Amelia replied.
“I am pleased ye enjoyed it. I did too. I was just coming to see what my uncle has been reading. He thinks I should broaden my mind a little,” Feargan replied, laughing.
“It seems to be mainly Latin,” Amelia said, an awkward silence now descending upon them.
“I—” they both began, and laughed.
“I just wanted to say, well, that I am sorry for my behavior,” Amelia said. “I was confused as to what happened the other day and did not know how to respond.”
“And I am sorry, too. I was rude, but now…” he said, his words trailing off.
Cautiously he placed his hand onto hers, and she looked up at him and smiled.
“Ye are truly lovely, Amelia,” he said, and leaning down he kissed her lips, his hand taking hers, as she rose from the table and embraced him.
“And I can think of no man lovelier than you,” she replied, as he began to kiss her neck, their passions inflamed.
The candles were burning low in the library, casting their gentle light upon the scene, as Feargan and Amelia held one another in each other’s arms. The tender delight they felt for one another now found its expression once again, as Feargan’s hands explored her body and she let out a sigh of satisfaction.
His lips pressed to her neck and down to her breasts. His hand slipped along the inside of her leg, causing her to shudder, as she felt his touch once more and remembered the way she had felt in the bothy on the moors. As her gown slipped to the floor, her skin tingling in the coolness of the air, she ran her hands over his chest and down his torso, his body tensing as she felt for him and pulled him close to her. As he held her and made lov
e to her, she felt a warmth and satisfaction such as she had never felt before. He was gentle, yet strong, and the way his body entwined with hers was as though each were made for that moment.
She ran her hands down his body, kissing every part of him, until she was kneeling upon the floor. She took his stiffened member in her mouth, she remembered the way it had felt in the bothy, how she had shuddered with orgasm as he had spilt his seed inside her. Gently, she ran her tongue around the end, causing him to let out a sigh. Her hands were upon the shaft and she took the whole length in her mouth, her eyes looking up at him as he smiled down at her in the candlelight.
She had never felt such a way before, her whole body delighting in him, now she slid her hands up his body, running them across his chest, kissing every part of his body, their passions becoming ever more inflamed, as though their bodies were made for one another. He too let out a deep affirmation, pulling her more closely to him, as together they expressed the feelings which both now knew they felt for the other.
He ran his tongue over her nipples, and his hand along her thigh, sliding his fingers inside her and causing her to wince, at the memory of his previous touch.. Gently, he turned her, his hands wrapped around her body, fondling her breasts, as he bent her over the table and slid his manhood inside her.
She shuddered, as he pushed himself inside her, his full length penetrating her and causing her to tingle all over. He had hold of her breasts now and was working his member in and out. She squirmed at his touch, and he paused for a moment, but she pushed herself back on him, causing him to exclaim with pleasure.
In the moment of climax, he pulled her ever closer to him and together they let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. She felt his seed spilling inside her and she let out a cry of delight, so intense was the feeling. He leant down and kissed her neck passionately, neither wishing this moment to end.
He did not pull out from her immediately. His member softening in her, as she tingled once more from the sensation of feeling him inside her, it had felt more intense than in the bothy, more intimate and sensual. He continued to kiss her, as she stood up, allowing him to slide gently from her and turning, she placed her hands around his neck.
How long they stayed their neither knew, but he had no desire to let go of her, nor she of him and as the night wore on, they made love again, there in the library. Surrounded by the wisdom of the past, yet looking only to the future and the happiness which could be theirs.
“Goodnight, Feargan,” she whispered, as later they prepared to leave the library, and she kissed him once again.
“Goodnight, Amelia, I …” he began, his words trailing off, and she looked at him, as he blushed, “I … well, ye have made me very happy by comin’ here and I have nae felt like this for another lass ever before. Ye are quite lovely and well, I ken how much I feel for ye, I … I love ye,” and he smiled at her.
She smiled at him, but made no reply, as she closed the door behind her. She hurried to her chambers, a deep feeling of happiness in her heart and as she made herself ready for bed that night. She no longer felt the worry of duty over heart. Instead, she knew where her happiness lay and that was in following her heart, with no consideration for the consequences.
21
The next morning Feargan rose early, the memory of his encounter with Amelia in the library still foremost in his mind. His uncle Alexander was already at breakfast and as Feargan entered the dining room he looked up and smiled.
“Ye seem in better humor, today, lad,” Alexander said, as Feargan hummed a tune to himself whilst ladling out a bowl of porridge.
Feargan smiled and nodded his head.
“Aye, well, things seem clearer now, Uncle. Clearer than they were before.”
“Ye have spoken to Amelia then? Ye are both happy?” Alexander replied.
“In a manner of speakin’ aye, we have put aside the difficulties of the past week, that much is certain,” Feargan said.
“I am glad of that, lad, glad indeed. Now ye must both decide how ye will be together for the future,” Alexander said, as the door to the dining room opened and Amelia entered, followed by Catherine, who was still full of yesterday’s excursion and talking rapidly.
“I should love to go there again, may I Amelia? Oh, do say that I can. I want to sit and look out over the loch and think about the goddess. Did you go to the library last night, as you said you would? I thought I heard your footfall in the corridor very late, perhaps you would show me the books you were reading,” Catherine said, as Amelia blushed.
“Slow down, Catherine. You have an astonishing capacity to talk at speed and whilst your speech is delightful your words are so garbled at times as to be almost lost,” Amelia said, nodding to Feargan and Alexander as she seated herself at the table.
“Do say I may walk to the islands again today, Amelia. Galbreth will not mind, will you?” Catherine said, turning to Feargan, who raised his hands.
“Daenae implore me, it is yer sister who must allow such things, though I think it would be a cruel thing if yer enthusiasm were so quashed,” Feargan said, winking at her as Amelia laughed.
“It seems I have no choice, but I think that as you travelled here alone from Cumberland, a simple excursion along the loch side will not be a danger to you. We saw no one yesterday and I doubt the woods are even inhabited, are they Feargan?” Amelia said, as Catherine clapped her hands together in delight.
“Nay one has lived in those woods for centuries. The peasants daenae go there, except for firewood as winter approaches. Catherine will be quite safe, unless she lets her mind be carried away by stories from Alexander here,” Feargan said, smiling.
“Daenae blame me if the lass has an active imagination,” Alexander replied.
Breakfast continued in this merry fashion, the moods of the past week now quite forgotten as Amelia and Feargan exchanged loving glances with one another. Each delighted in the tender memory of that which they had shared in the library last night and Feargan was eager to spend time alone with Amelia. Catherine’s desire for a further excursion along the loch gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.
“Perhaps I could show ye more of the books in the library today,” he said to Amelia, as breakfast was concluded and Catherine collected food for her walk.
“I should like that very much,” Amelia said, her hand brushing against Feargan’s as the two exchanged a loving glance.
“I am going now,” Catherine announced. “If I am late then do not worry, I shall be back before nightfall. I so want to swim out to the islands and the weather is so beautiful today, surely the water will be warm.”
“The water of that loch is like ice on even the warmest of days,” Feargan said, laughing at her enthusiasm. “But if ye dae swim out then bring back a pebble from the island. They say it is good luck to dae so.”
“I shall bring one for us each,” Catherine said, and she kissed her sister and effected a curtesy to Feargan before taking up her pack of food and running from the house.
“She is a funny thing and make nay mistake,” Feargan said, shaking his head.
“And I am so glad she is here with us, and that today she has chosen to go out,” Amelia replied, smiling and taking Feargan by the hand. “Now, won’t you show me a few more books in the library?”
* * *
Catherine was delighted to have been allowed to walk out on her own. Her father and sister could be far too over-protective of her and there were times when Catherine felt a prisoner in her own home. In Paris, and at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, she was always accompanied by her sister, or a chaperone, and in Cumberland, whilst there were few places to go, she was always asked where she was going and for how long.
Today, she felt quite free, and she hummed to herself as she made her way into the forest, singing snatches of a song from her childhood. It was one her dear mother used to sing and was about the only memory of her which Catherine possessed.
It was a bright sunny morning, much the same as the day b
efore, but without the company of the others she noticed things which yesterday had eluded her. Like the line of rocks which stretched out from the shore at one point—stepping-stones for a giant—or the patch of trees which opened to reveal a gushing waterfall high above.
The path wound its way along the loch side and along the way she picked wildflowers, making them into a garland which she hung around her neck. It was quite delightful, and Catherine felt freer than she had ever done. How wonderful it was to be here amidst such beauty and enjoy the silent contemplations of her heart.
Catherine knew little of the world at large. Her life had been spent between Paris and Cumberland, with little thought for the affairs which shaped the world. Her father had always discouraged either of his daughters from knowledge of the Jacobite cause or the politics therein. Such things were not the preserve of young ladies, or so he said. Thus, her life had been sheltered, protected, and cocooned. She had little knowledge of other people’s lives and had been ever so confused over the whole affair regarding Feargan and Philip.
Highlander's Hidden Destiny (Steamy Scottish Historical) Page 17