The Highlander's Bride

by Amanda Forester

  “So close,” said Colette as one led to the slaughter.

  Gavin looked like he wanted to hurt something—or maybe he looked like he was being hurt. It was hard to tell. One thing was clear—these two needed someone to help them.

  “The baby is fatigued by this journey,” said Pippa, though the baby was cooing happily and chewing on her own fist. “I wonder if we may stop here for the night.” It was a preposterous notion, since it was only midafternoon and they had no more than an hour to travel before they would reach their destination.

  “I would not wish to distress the baby,” said Colette, quickly clinging to any excuse to stop.

  “I agree. It would be good to stop here for the night.” Gavin’s color began to return. He led them back down the rise and into the forest, out of sight of the castle. He found a flat space a bit off the road and began to make camp. A tent or two were among the remaining items of her dowry, along with the basic necessities to make camp.

  Pippa watched as Sir Gavin constructed a tent for Colette. She soon recognized he intended the tent for Colette, the baby, and herself, which of course would never do.

  “I was thinking, my lady,” Pippa said to Colette. “The baby, she seems a bit fussy. I fear she may keep you up at night. Mayhap we should put up another tent, and I will stay there with the babe while you get some sleep.”

  Colette regarded Pippa carefully, and Pippa did her best to appear innocent, even though the baby was now sleeping like an angel.

  “Pippa, you know it would not be appropriate for me to stay in the tent by myself.”

  “True, I had forgot. I know, why do you not ask Sir Gavin to spend the night at the entrance of your tent? Then you will be safe, for none shall reach you if Sir Gavin is your protector.” Pippa glanced away, unable to look at Lady Colette and keep a straight face.

  Lady Colette was silent for a moment, and though her face revealed nothing, Pippa knew she was thinking hard. “Yes, let us do as you suggest.”

  Pippa nodded with a grin. They were being delightfully easy to manage. Maybe another night together would clarify everything they needed to know. At the very least, Pippa had given them the opportunity to spend one last night together. It was the least she could do to repay Lady Colette for the kindness she had shown her.

  Lady Colette reached out and touched Pippa’s hand in an unusual gesture. “Thank you, Pippa.” Her eyes were deep with understanding.

  “Forgive me for saying, but why must you go on at all? Why not stay with Sir Gavin?” Pippa had pressed too far; she knew by the sudden cloud that came over Colette’s eyes.

  “I must go on, you know that. Even if my duty is not clear to you, it is to me.” Colette held herself rigid and tall.

  “I know. You’ve told me before. But you love him and he loves you. You would be a fool to throw it away. And I know, it’s an impertinence, but it’s the truth and I don’t mind saying it.”

  Instead of chastising her, Colette stared at her with large green eyes. “Sir Gavin in love?”

  “With you.” Pippa was emphatic. “I confess I know little of it, but I have never seen a man look at anyone the way Sir Gavin looks at you. I never knew a man like Sir Gavin could exist. I thought they were all worse than devils. If I met someone like Sir Gavin, I would never let him go!”

  Pippa turned to stomp off, remembered herself, and turned back to curtsy and then spun to continue her retreat. Lady Colette did not know what a rare gift she had been given. Pippa had a low opinion of men to begin with, but Gavin was a different sort of man than she had ever met. He took care of Lady Colette. He held the baby. He even emptied a chamber pot half-full of vomit without a word of complaint. No, this Sir Gavin was an entirely different breed of man. If all Highlanders were like that, she could only hope to find one herself.

  * * *

  Colette pondered Pippa’s words. Did Gavin love her? No! Yes? Did it matter? She did not know her own mind anymore. She knew her maid was giving them the flimsiest of excuses to spend one more night together, but she was weak and clung to the offered reprieve.

  Colette retired early to her bed, with Gavin remaining on guard outside her tent. Thick clouds rolled in, obscuring all light from moon and stars. Colette lay awake, knowing that Gavin would come to her. She waited for the soft rustle of the tent flap, her body alive with anticipation.

  “Colette?” Gavin whispered, barely audible over the wind that rustled the canvas of the tent.

  “I am here,” she whispered in return.

  In a moment, he bumped into her cot and sat beside her on her pallet. “Colette,” he said again, his voice a rasp.

  She sat up and reached for him, and suddenly she was in his arms and they were kissing their hellos and their good-byes. She could not keep the tears from running down her face. She did not want to marry another. She could not imagine leaving him.

  “Say the word,” whispered Gavin, “and I will take ye away from here. Somewhere ye’ll ne’er be found and we can be together forever.”

  Colette clung to him, much within her wanting to say yes. She wished to give up everything for the sake of this powerful love. But she could not. For love, true love, could not hurt those around it.

  “I wish to say yes,” said Colette, her heart breaking. “But you know it cannot be. I cannot leave my father, my people, unprotected.”

  “I’ll gather forces myself. I’m o’ Clan MacLaren, and my uncle the laird has once before fought for friends in France. I will gather warriors and take them myself to defend yer father and yer people.”

  Colette shook her head. She could never allow Gavin to return to the dangers in France. “To return to danger, I cannot ask you. You have already fought for us at great personal risk. I cannot have you risk yourself and your clan to save mine.”

  When Gavin opened his mouth to protest, she put a finger to his lips, silencing his objections. “Never could I live with myself if you returned to France and were hurt or killed. No, it cannot be. On this matter I am absolutely resolute.”

  “There must be a way,” whispered Gavin in the dark. “There must be a way for me to keep ye.”

  “There is no way.” The words were like gravel in her mouth. “Tomorrow I must go to my future husband. The past must be the past.”

  Gavin held her close as if he never meant to let her go. “Know this: ye are my wife. There will be no other wife for me but ye. In truth…” He paused and held her so close, she could feel his heart beating on her chest. “In truth, I love ye. I love ye wi’ my whole heart. And none o’ this will ever change my love for ye.” He sealed his proclamation with a kiss.

  She clung to him, not wanting to let him go. They reclined onto the pallet together, still in each other’s embrace, neither willing to let go. They kissed away everything but their love. This was their last night together. This was their last chance.

  Finally, she broke the kiss to speak the words she needed to say. “Gavin, I need you to know.” She swallowed hard. “I have never said this to anyone, but you I do love.”

  Gavin pulled her even tighter, which suited her well because Colette wanted to be as close to him as she could. Her husband, her lover, the man to whom she’d given her heart, was hers now but only for a few hours more.

  She reached for her chemise and flung it off over her head without a thought, needing her whole body to feel him. He must have agreed with the sentiment for he too threw aside his clothes, covering them both with his thick plaid. They lay together in each other’s embrace, not moving, not speaking, not wanting the moment to end.

  Gavin kissed her on the cheek, then trailed kisses to her lips and down to the hollow of her neck. He continued his sensuous path until his face was buried in her bosom. She pulled him even closer as he demanded more of her. Heat radiated from her core, tingling up her spine, to her fingers and toes. Tension was building within her. She needed him
, wanted him, and held on to him with arms and legs.

  He once more caressed her lips with his even as he claimed her for his own. She opened herself to him, needing to be united to him. She closed her eyes as the tension built. The ground moved beneath her and he above her, spinning, rocking, until she cried out as pleasure ripped through her.

  They laid together, holding on to each other even as ripples of pleasure continued to course through them. “I love you.” It was the only thing she could say.

  “I love ye too.”

  She fought sleep, not wanting to waste a moment with him. Holding him close but knowing he was already lost to her was a pleasure fractured with the deepest pain—but one that she would not deny herself. This was life. This was true. She had loved, and she had lost.

  So be it.

  Thirty-three

  Gavin left the tent when the sun was beginning to rise. They had slept little that night, but Colette had finally succumbed to fatigue, and he would not wake her for anything. He walked across the road and climbed the small rise, gazing out toward their final destination. The castle of the Mackenzies was lit with an orange glow as the rays of the rising sun touched the ethereal wisps of mist. Somewhere behind the secure stone walls, the Baron of Kintail smugly awaited the arrival of his bride.

  In a moment of cowardice, Gavin considered stealing away and letting Colette travel the final distance herself, so he would not have to face the final farewell. How could he willingly hand over his wife to become another man’s bride? No, it was impossible.

  Gavin swallowed down gall and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to inspire some grand thought, some rationale that would allow him to keep Colette for himself that would not hurt her kin. He took a deep breath of the damp, cool morning air. He knew what needed to happen. There was nothing to be done but the inevitable. She must become the wife of the Baron of Kintail, and he must let her go.

  As Gavin watched the castle, he became curiously aware that no banner had been raised to greet the morn. Were the Mackenzies not in residence? Even more odd, there were no farmers or tradesmen beginning their day or coming down the road toward the castle. He had picked a spot off the road so as not to be disturbed, but no one had passed them at all. In truth, all looked abandoned.

  He strained to see past the fog. Was that a breach in one of the walls? A cold chill that had nothing to do with the damp morning air crept up his spine. Gavin did not know what had happened to the castle or even if anything was wrong, but he wanted to be the one to find out, not Colette.

  He walked back to their campsite, surveying it with fresh eyes. They were well off the road, but the tops of the tents were visible. He needed to get them down, which meant waking Colette. He walked into the canvas tent and was stopped in his tracks. Colette lay sleeping on the pallet, her beautiful, deep auburn hair splayed about her, a small, secret smile playing on her lips. She was a beautiful creature.

  Once again he fought the impulse to take her away and keep her for himself. Instead, he sat on the edge of the pallet and gently shook her shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she gave him a wide, sleepy grin. It was all he could do not to crawl under the blankets and join her one last time.

  “Forgive me, but I must wake ye now.”

  “Is something the matter?” Colette sat up, her hair falling about her in a seductive manner.

  Gavin forgot what he wanted to say. All he could consider was how her hair covered her breasts, but if she tilted just a bit to the left…

  “Gavin?” she repeated, looking quizzically at him. “What is wrong?”

  The only thing wrong was that he could not join her once more. Gavin cleared his throat, trying to remember what had brought him into the tent. “The castle is quiet this morning. I will scout ahead, but I wish to take down the tents before I go.”

  Colette’s eyebrows fell as she considered his words. He had tried to convey nothing to worry her, but she was too clever to be easily fooled. “What do you think has happened to the castle?” she asked.

  “I dinna ken, but I’ll find out. Mayhap ’tis naught, but I’ve learned to be cautious.”

  “I will go with you,” began Colette.

  “Nay! Ye need to stay safe.” His voice was loud with the intensity of this sentiment. He paused and spoke it in a softer tone. “Yer safety is one thing I can protect. It is the one service I can still give ye. Let me do this.”

  She nodded slowly, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “Call in Pippa and I shall dress quickly.”

  * * *

  Marie Colette stood by the side of the road and watched Gavin ride away until he turned back and motioned for her to conceal herself in the brush. It was probably unnecessary at this point, since none had traveled the path since they had arrived. Yet Colette backed off the road to please him.

  With a sigh, she walked back to where the tents had been, now packed neatly into the wagon. Soon she would meet her new husband. Her eye caught the simple band of gold around her finger. Her heart sinking, she realized she would need to take off her ring and return it to Gavin. She pulled at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

  An unpleasant noise interrupted her focus. Pippa was holding a fussy Marie Frances, trying to soothe her baby whimpers.

  “What is wrong with Frances?” asked Colette, twisting the ring painfully on her finger.

  “Hungry, I warrant. She’s not eaten since last night.”

  “Then by all means, let us feed her. By the saints, I cannot get this off.” Colette gave one more yank on the ring, but it was well and stuck on her finger.

  “’Tis a sign,” said Pippa with wide eyes.

  Was it? Colette wished she could believe it were true. Frances, however, was less than impressed and increased her cries.

  “I believe Frances would like some milk,” said Colette, changing the subject.

  “Which means I need to milk the goat,” said Pippa.

  Colette nodded in agreement and took a whimpering baby, so Pippa could attend to her work. She walked with the baby, she bounced the baby, she tried to reason with the baby, attempted to give her a biscuit to eat, but the baby would have none of it. Marie Frances wanted her milk and nothing else would do.

  The baby’s whimpers increased until her cries could not be silenced, and the tot began to wail. “Pippa?” called Colette. “How much longer will it take to milk the goat?”

  “Milking the goat does not take too long,” called Pippa from somewhere in the thick brush. “Finding the goat is another matter.”

  “You lost the goat?”

  “I did not lose it. It wandered off!” defended Pippa.

  “Why did you not tie the goat last night?” Colette asked with an edge to her voice.

  “I did tie it, but it chomped right through the rope.”

  The baby’s screams were becoming more insistent. If they could not settle the infant, anyone within earshot would know they were there, whether or not they stayed out of sight.

  “I shall help you look,” said Colette. She began to march through the brush, looking for a white goat with black spots. Or was it a black goat with white spots?

  “Hush, Frances. Everyone in all the Highlands will hear you,” she reasoned, but the baby was determined to make her wishes known. Loudly. She walked through another thicket and came to an abrupt halt. She was back on the road. And she was not alone.

  Five men on horseback had stopped on the road, clearly drawn by the baby’s squalls. They were Highlanders, all wearing various forms of the great plaid. Several had overgrown, unkempt beards, and all looked grimy and rough. Far from the polished courtiers she was accustomed to, these were wild men who all looked as if they were kin to the massive rocks and crags of this untamed land.

  It was pointless to try to run now, and though she hardly liked the look of the men who stood before her, she did not know if they mea
nt her any harm. She told herself to calm her nerves and hold her head high, as if standing by the side of the road with a squalling infant was a completely normal event.

  “Who are ye, and what do ye have there?” one of the men asked gruffly, pulling on a long beard that appeared to hold the contents of several past meals.

  “The baby is hungry,” Colette said simply.

  “Then feed it,” said another man, as if the conclusion was obvious. Of course it was a natural response, but Colette felt it best not to get into the details of the missing goat.

  “I shall shortly, thank you, kind sir.”

  “Ye be French?” The bearded man narrowed his eyes at her, taking an unwelcome interest in her. To her dismay, some of the horsemen began to edge their way around her, forming a half circle.

  She did not doubt Gavin would be displeased with this turn of events. She glanced around, unsure of what to do. There was no escape, not holding a squalling infant, and even if she put Marie Frances down, she wasn’t about to outrun five men on horseback.

  In the bushes toward her left, something caught her eye. It was Pippa, peeking at her through a bush.

  “Ye’re going to need to come wi’ us,” said one of the Highlanders in a gruff voice. Two of them dismounted and approached her with dark looks.

  Her mind spun, trying to think of something to say to get her out of this predicament. “Come no farther!” she demanded. She held up the squalling infant. “For I hold a changeling.”

  The men stopped cold, their eyes growing wide.

  “I was here, alone, to find a flat stone to lay this changeling out with the hopes that the healthy baby that was stolen would be returned to her mother,” said Colette ominously. Everyone knew that fey creatures would exchange their own sickly brats for healthy human babies. The only way to get the babe back was to leave the sickly changeling out in the elements and hope that it would be exchanged once more.

  Colette backed away from the men, toward the bush where Pippa was hiding. She turned so that her back was to the man and caught a glimpse of one of Pippa’s eyes through the thick, leafy branches. “Take care of her,” she mouthed to Pippa, who gave her a small nod in understanding.