Highlander's Stolen Wife: A Medieval Scottish Historical Romance Book

by Alisa Adams

  "Fine figure of a man," she remarked casually, making Shona jump.

  "If you say so, Ma," Shona replied airily, resuming what she was doing.

  Thankfully, Lachlan moved away after that, but all morning thoughts of his lean muscled body came back to taunt her. She supposed this was what it was like to grow up, but why hadn't she felt it for the MacPhail sons, big, handsome and strong? Or big Murdo Robertson with his fiery red hair? He had a substantial house, acres of land and a herd of fine dairy cows, and he had asked to wed her more than once. He would be a fine catch for any maid, but she found his coarseness and foul manners repulsive. And he never washed! Rumor had it he was also cruel to his workers, so how much more would he be to his wife?

  “Pearls before swine,” Catriona had said. To think of her girl going to a brute like that was something she would not tolerate.

  But Lachlan? As far as Shona knew he had nothing. Nothing didn't worry her too much – she had very little herself, but she was surrounded by love. She didn't think that what she felt for him was love. It was something much more basic, much more earthy and real. You could sing songs about love, but not about this!

  Troubles

  Lachlan was just as troubled, not just about Shona, but about the dreams and visions that were so tantalizingly close to telling him where he had come from. The night after he had taken the ox out to plow, he was standing on the slope beside the cottage. In his mind's eye, he was a boy again, only seven years old, walking through the castle with Ishbel. It was very quiet, and everyone was walking with their heads bowed.

  "What's happened, Nanny Ishbel?" he asked innocently. “Why does everyone look so sad?"

  Ishbel looked down at him and squeezed his hand. Her eyes were full of tears, which ran down her cheeks as she looked at him. He felt afraid suddenly, especially since they were going into Father's bedchamber, where he was never usually allowed to go.

  His father was sitting in a chair by the window, and he held out his arms for Lachlan to walk into. For Lachlan, this was very strange. He could only remember a handful of times in his life when his father had embraced him. His mother, after the death of his infant brother, James, had been even more distant, only seeing him on Sundays and church holidays. Ishbel had been his love, warmth, and comfort, yet here was his father reaching out and gathering Lachlan into his arms. It was strange being held by his father. He felt hard where Ishbel was soft, and his beard scratched Lachlan's smooth boyish face. Isabel's cheeks were as smooth as the fine silk his mother wore sometimes.

  "I have to tell you something," he said quietly, his blue-gray eyes looking into Lachlan's. "This morning, your poor mother died in her sleep. She had been ill for some time, as you know, and this morning, God decided that she should not suffer anymore. She died peacefully, and He has taken her to heaven where she will live with Him forever in perfect happiness. Do you understand?"

  Lachlan nodded. He had hardly known his mother and was not quite sure what to do or say next. He looked at his father and waited for instructions, but none were forthcoming.

  "Can I go and play with the dogs now, Father?" His question was sincere and innocent, but it took his father aback. Perhaps he had never understood what a distant relationship there was between Lachlan and his mother. He sat stock-still in astonishment for a moment then his face clouded over. He was just about to lash out with a stinging reprimand, when Ishbel, seeing what was going to happen, said quickly:

  "M'lord, he doesna' understaun' yet." She shook her head. "Gie me a while to explain it. He's only a wee lad."

  The laird sat back in his chair and nodded, then he made a little 'shoo' gesture. He watched them go, then put his face in his hands.

  Lachlan remembered that day as being a very happy one. Ishbel took him down to the kitchens, and they ate honey cakes while she told him one of the many fanciful tales she had made up for him over the years about the monster in the loch. Lachlan had asked her many times if she believed the story and she always looked shocked and told him that she did.

  "Have you ever seen her?" he asked, laughing because he knew the answer already.

  "I have seen her many times, Master Lachlan," she said knowingly, "and once she smiled at me with her great teeth showing. ‘Twas a fearsome sight, I can tell you!"

  Lachlan laughed, as he always did. Ishbel was funny, and that was why he loved her – well, one of the reasons.

  The next day, Father took him to the church on his horse and carriage. Another carriage contained a big wooden box. They said a lot of prayers in low voices and lowered the box into a great square hole in the ground. Lachlan was bored. He didn't know quite what all this was about, and all he wanted was to go and play with his dogs or fly his kite. He knew that as soon as it was all over, he would go down and run on the shingle by the water's edge with the wind in his hair and the waves lapping at his toes.

  Gradually he came back to the present, his eyes refocusing on the gray landscape before him. Gray loch, gray sky, gray mountains. He was a man now, and he knew there was no monster, but in his childhood – another memory – Ishbel's tales had been the stuff of great amusement and fantasy. And sometimes they scared him so much he couldn't sleep, but in a perverse way, that too had been fun. Now he could remember great chunks of his past but not where he came from. He sighed. Mayhap it would always be like this.

  The rain had begun to fall, and he turned to go back into the cottage, wondering how much more time he would have imposed on these generous people. They must be tired of him by now. He must be a married man, and he wondered if he had children. Every man wanted sons to carry on his name, and he was no exception, but if he ever had a child with Shona—he stopped the thought as it began because that way lay madness.

  The next day, the famous Murdo made an unannounced and unwelcome visit. Catriona looked out of the window at dusk to see a flame-haired figure riding out of the gloaming on a huge gray stallion, about which most of the countryside had already heard but never seen. It had almost passed into legend, and here it was in the flesh. It was his pride and joy, his status symbol and the most precious of all his possessions. So few people owned a horse – even a pony – that it made him someone to be looked up to – a big fearsome figure in the community. That horse said: 'Look at me because I am important!'

  Neither Shona nor Catriona was impressed. Her brothers too found Murdo beyond loathsome but for some reason, the more she spurned him, the more he pursued her. She was like the deer he couldn't catch, and the more it ran away, the more he wanted its venison for his stew pot. Unfortunately, only Catriona and Shona were at home, and neither relished the coming encounter.

  The Puzzle Solved

  Catriona tried to hold Shona back, but she strode out determinedly to meet the man whose attentions had now come to the point of harassment.

  "Well met, lass!" Murdo boomed. He had a deep bass voice that always sounded as if it were coming from the bottom of a cave.

  "Did I not tell ye the last time ye called that ye were unwelcome here?" Shona said patiently.

  Murdo made a courteous bow of his head – or it would have seemed so from anyone but him. His eyes seemed merry, but Shona knew that there was malice behind his snakelike smile. His vassals, three of them, always had to run behind him and were still several hundred yards behind. He dismounted from the big horse and walked up to her. She was so small that he could have done anything he liked to her and she would have been utterly incapable of resisting.

  "Lass," he said, laughing heartily, "when a woman says 'naw' she always means 'aye'. Everybody knows that."

  But Shona, though inwardly terrified, had no intention of showing him her fear.

  "And ye would knaw this – how?" she asked defiantly, lifting her chin.

  By this time, the minions were almost upon them. Shona was glad he had not brought his brothers today.

  Catriona came out of the house, and the two small women stood to face the big man. Murdo had an overwhelming advantage, and he knew i
t. This little minx had teased him long enough – he had endured it with patience, but he was a man, and a man's will prevailed over a woman's. That was the way God had ordained it, and that was how it was going to be because he was not going to be humiliated any longer. She would submit to him or suffer the consequences, and he had a feeling that he was going to enjoy making her submit.

  He walked up to Shona, and was about to reach out for her, when Campbell's voice stopped him. Murdo smiled because the odds were still overwhelmingly in his favor.

  "Mr. Donaldson!" He smiled expansively, opening his arms. "How are ye? Sadly, my brothers couldna' be here to greet you – they have urgent business in Inverness."

  Campbell said nothing, but looked over the big man's shoulder to where Cameron, Brody, and Angus were standing, each with a stout wooden spade in his hands. Then, last of all, another man came around the corner of the house. At that, Murdo's three servants quietly slunk away, unwilling to defend someone they despised anyway.

  Lachlan and Murdo stood glaring at each other for a moment, and suddenly the last few pieces of the jigsaw fell into place in Lachlan's mind. He looked at the horse, and his eyes widened in astonishment. Then he did the last thing anyone expected.

  Putting two fingers in his mouth, he let out a piercing whistle. The gray horse pricked his ears up, and whinnied, tossed his head, and trotted over to Lachlan, then ruffled his hair with his chin, whickering affectionately. Lachlan laughed, kissed the horse's nose and scratched his head between his ears. He held up a finger then moved it in a circle. The big horse trotted around in a circle then when Lachlan held his hand up he stopped dead. Murdo shouted and ran over to the horse, but Lachlan was already holding its bridle.

  "Whit are ye playin' at?" Murdo protested, but he was completely ignored.

  Lachlan clapped his hands; the horse reared up on his hind legs. Murdo ran backward in startled fear, then tripped and fell on his backside.

  Lachlan then gave a different whistle, and the stallion lashed out with his back legs. He pointed to the ground, and Jamie knelt down on his knees. He pointed upward again, and the horse got to his feet, then stood still as Lachlan hugged his neck.

  "Hello, Jamie," he said quietly, smiling.

  Jamie nodded a few times and then stood, still and quiet, while Lachlan looked over at Murdo, his eyes black with fury. Murdo was trying to struggle to his feet, but Lachlan went over and shoved a booted foot onto his chest, pushing him down again.

  "Finished with my horse now?" he asked, his voice dripping sarcasm.

  "That's not your horse," Murdo said angrily. "I bought him fair and square."

  "Aye?" Lachlan raised his eyebrows. "From whom, may I ask?"

  Murdo had the grace to look awkward. "Nane of your business." His voice was surly, and his eyes would not meet Lachlan's.

  "Oh, I think it is very much my business," Lachlan said frostily. "I brought this horse up from the day he was born. We grew up together. I trained him to ride into battle, and I taught him party tricks, so I know that this is my horse. He recognizes me and answers to his name, and if you try riding him away now that I am here, he willna' let you. You know why? Because you may be big and strong, but this horse is much stronger than you are, and his love for me is stronger still. And you bought this horse knowingly from someone who stole it from me – maybe even stole it under your orders?" He paused, looking down at the big man contemptuously.

  "I didna' know it was your horse!" Murdo said, his voice rising in fear. "I just bought him from a man called Duggie, and that's all I knaw."

  "I don't believe you. A horse of this quality stands out, does he not? Does he look like a pony? Or a horse who pulls plows?" Lachlan went on mercilessly. "I don't believe this 'Duggie' exists. I believe Jamie was stolen right out of my stables. I know how much this horse is worth, and I did not expect anyone to be stupid enough to ride him around here – unless…" He continued on as though the thought had just occurred to him. "… you thought the owner was dead. You may even have helped to plot his murder."

  "Naw!" There was real panic in Murdo's eyes now. He struggled to his feet and stood, looking with naked fear into Lachlan's eyes. "I knaw naethin' of that, I swear!"

  Lachlan's lip curled in contempt. "And why should I take the word of a worm like you?" he said scathingly. "You know nothing of the truth! I am the Laird of Ness," he went on grimly. "I hear that you have been pursuing the maid Shona, that she has refused you, and you have not taken 'no' for an answer!" He paused, breathing heavily. "That will stop. And if I find that you have harmed one hair of this family's heads, if I find one sheep missing from their flock, I will make you wish you had never been born. You are fortunate to be a freeholder, or it would give me great pleasure to strip you of your land rights!"

  He whistled, and Jamie came trotting over to him, then Lachlan vaulted into the saddle. He took Jamie round Murdo in ever-decreasing circles till they were almost touching him, then Lachlan leaned down from the saddle and shouted in Murdo's ear:

  "You are a thief, and you shall stand trial!"

  Murdo jumped and held his hand to his ear, then he began to tremble. The penalty for horse theft was dire.

  "Ye canna' dae this!" he bellowed. "I am innocent!"

  "Then you willna' have anything to fear," Lachlan said grimly.

  It was with great satisfaction and a generous amount of unholy glee that Shona watched her brothers manhandle the burly man into the barn and tie him to the ring that was usually used to tether the ox.

  "And have a care you do not make too much noise," Lachlan warned with savage delight. "I have gelded many bulls and stallions in my time, and they are much bigger and stronger than you!"

  Murdo was dragged screaming to the ring on the wall, and his wrists were firmly tied to it behind his back. It was not gentle, but to Shona, it was the funniest thing she had seen for a long, long time.

  Making Plans

  For a moment, they all stood looking at Lachlan. He was stupefied, unable to take in the news that he had just received. It was huge, momentous, and his mind could not seem to contain it. For a moment, he thought that he must be imagining things, then he turned to the others, who were smiling and laughing. Everyone came forward to congratulate him, even Shona, who shook his hand and gave him a little curtsey. She looked up at him, and as he looked down, he realized suddenly that he couldn't live without her. If he were married he would somehow find a way out of it, and they would have children and he would be the best father he could be – not distant and authoritarian like his mother and father. He would fill his house with love and have his sons and daughters running about and playing with the animals, riding ponies and fishing in the loch. He shook his head, laughing. Catriona embraced him again, but Campbell was the first to be practical.

  "We'd better find a place for yon beast of yours." He nodded towards Jamie.

  "Whit a beauty," Cameron said enviously. He had always loved horses. "An' so friendly."

  "He is that." Lachlan smiled at the big horse, then kissed his forehead. He stood back to look at him. "Whatever else the man is, he is caring to his animals. This big fella looks in fine fettle, don't you, Jamie boy?"

  Jamie messed up Lachlan's hair with his chin, and he laughed, his whole face changing from its usual grim expression to one of pure happiness. It was like the sun coming out.

  "Let us have some ale," Catriona suggested, smiling, "my Laird."

  Lachlan caught her hand and raised it to his lips. "Do not call me that again," he said firmly but kindly. "I owe you my life, and for my part, I consider us friends – eternal friends."

  Catriona hugged him, thinking as she did so that this big solid man would have been a good husband to her daughter if he had not been married and rich.

  They settled down with their ale by the fire, but although the others were chattering and laughing, Lachlan was quiet.

  Campbell noticed it, and said anxiously, "What is it, lad? You look worried."

  Lachlan nodded
and took a sip of ale before he answered.

  "Two things concern me," he admitted, frowning. "He did not expect much resistance today, it’s clear, so the first thing is that despite my warning, I think that that thug's family might come back, and I am worried that he will make off with some of your livestock and do you harm. My other worry is for Shona. Murdo seeks her as a wife at the moment, but I suspect he may take her at any price, and in any way he chooses, and his family may take her hostage." He looked at her, frowning, and Shona felt an icy thrill of fear creep into her heart. "They are all birds of a feather, after all. Mayhap I should not have humiliated him as I did. His servants vanished quickly, and I did not see them go, but they will tell the Robertsons exactly what they want to hear – he has put the fear of God into them."

  He looked thoughtfully into the fire, and there was a silence as each member of the family sat working out his or her own plan for dealing with the situation.

  Shona watched Lachlan's face as the firelight danced on it, its strong high cheekbones, long straight nose and deep-set eyes with dark lowering brows. It was a strong but sensitive face, and she knew that inside him was an indomitable chieftain, a playful and considerate father, and a loving, devoted husband who could caress his wife into madness if he wished.

  "We must protect Shona," Angus said, "for I would die rather than see my sister dishonored!"

  The rest of the family joined in, and Lachlan smiled faintly. Something told him his family, real or imagined, was nothing like this.

  "First of all, we must hide the livestock," he said. His voice was firm and heavy. He was not Lachlan the castaway anymore, but Lachlan the Laird, who lived in a castle and had men at his command. "Do you have a place?"

  Campbell nodded solemnly. "Then the ladies," he ordered sternly.