Once Forbidden

by TERRI BRISBIN

  "Then I am no daughter of yours," she yelled back, surprising even herself at the power of the words. Robert had taught her about that power and the courage to call on it.

  Her father looked aghast at her and then turned to her mother, who stood smiling next to him. "'Tis frightening to hear yer own words come back to haunt ye as my faither said they would, is it no', husband?"

  She waited no longer to see what he would do, for she needed to get to Robert and beg him to forgive her for her lack of faith in him. With Craig on her hip, she walked quickly through the gate and out into the village. Following one of the side trails, she soon stood before the well-worn path leading to Robena's cottage. Once she caught her breath, she called out his name as loudly as she could, scaring Craig to tears and startling some of the children playing nearby.

  She heard some scurrying inside the cottage and then the door opened. Robert stood there looking at her. She pushed open the gate and walked towards him.

  "Please take me with you to Dunbarton... Take us," she said, looking down at Craig.

  "Anice, yer father said..."

  "I have no father. Will that matter to you? I know it does to most men. If I come to you without dowry or name, will you have me?"

  "Ye ken I did no' offer for ye to gain those things, Anice. I'm afraid I canna offer ye the protection of marriage, lass. Not now that ye ken the truth about me."

  "Did Father Cleirach know the truth when he heard our vows?"

  Robert nodded his answer. So Robert had not deceived the priest.

  "Then if my father goes through with the annulment, we will ask him to hear our vows again. Or I will live with you and bear your children without the bond of marriage, Robert." She stepped closer and knelt in the dirt at his feet. "If you will have me, Robert. Please?"

  He grabbed her and dragged her to her feet. "Anice, as much as I want ye, as much as I love ye, I canna let ye throw away all that should be yers. And, yer faither will no' stand for this. He seeks a suitable marriage for his daughter."

  "I cannot marry someone else, Robert, for I gave you my heart when we took our vows." Tears filled her eyes and she cried out to him once more. "For, annulment or not, we are already married in our hearts."

  He recognized his own words and took her, took them, in his embrace. "Will ye regret this later? Will ye wish for the title ye give up now in order to do this?"

  "My only regret would be in letting you leave here without me."

  He drew her near and touched his lips to hers. Just when she would have opened to him, the crowd that had gathered around them parted and her parents, Struan, Father MacIntyre, and some of the clan elders came through.

  "What is this talk of leaving, Robert? Ye canna leave," one of the elders called out to him.

  Father MacIntyre approached, carrying several parchments.

  "'Twould seem that Struan haes discovered a problem with the original betrothal and the old laird's will. Both refer to Struan's eldest son and heir. When this wording is used, rather than referring to the male issue of a legitimate marriage, all sons were considered, not just legitimate ones. If Struan kenned of the existence of another, older son when he contracted with the MacNab, then he entered into this agreement fraudulently. Since Robert was older than Alesander, he and not Alesander should have married the MacNab heiress. And been named tanist as is the custom here."

  Anice looked in confusion at Robert, not quite understanding what had just been established. Her father interrupted.

  "So ye are saying that if Struan kenned of Robert then Anice's marriage to Sandy was invalid?" Her father snorted and huffed, not used to having anyone interfere with his plans.

  "Aye. And Struan haes already signed a statement attesting to that prior knowledge. Although it will take some time to file the papers with the courts and with the church, it appears that Anice's first marriage was invalid. That is, of course, if Struan acknowledges Robert as his heir before the clan."

  Anice did not dare to hope that everything could be settled this easily. If Struan was going to call him son, why wait until now? Why not do it earlier? How could Struan punish Robert with exile and then wait through all of this?

  "No, Struan," Robert said, surprising her with his vehemence. He shook his finger at Struan, who looked very tired. "'Tis too late to hear the words from ye."

  "Come, Robert, let us speak in private. Please hear me out before ye decide." Struan's voice was roughened with emotions.

  "Anice, come with me? For this is about ye and yer son as well."

  Robert held out his hand to her and she followed him and Struan into Robena's cottage. When she shifted the babe to a more comfortable spot on her hip, Robert lifted him from her and placed him on his shoulder. She looked at Struan, but not before catching sight of Robert rubbing Craig's head and placing a tender kiss on the babe's forehead. What a fool she had been to ever doubt him.

  She caught his gaze and he smiled at her, embarrassed a bit by being seen in that tender moment. Then Struan cleared his throat.

  "When yer maither came and told me she was carrying ye, Robert, she made me swear never to openly acknowledge ye as mine. In spite of the love we shared, she did not want Dougal hurt by our affair. I did no' see her again as her lover and we did no' speak again until the night she bore ye and died. She begged me once again to keep yer parentage a secret to protect Dougal and I held to our bargain.” Struan paused and took a deep breath.

  "I was faithful in my heart to Edana for our whole marriage except that brief time with Glynnis. When Edana discovered the truth, as women always seem to, it destroyed her. The only thing that would begin to heal the rift between us was my promise to never let ye inherit over her son. Alesander had been born a few months after yer birth and the fact that Glynnis had given me a son first ate at Edana. Through the years, I watched ye grow into a man and kenned that others saw the resemblance. Somehow, Edana found out and confronted me that night over nine years ago. Once Dougal found out, he treated ye differently. I could no' openly accept ye, so I arranged with Duncan to foster ye there."

  "So you kept the promises made to everyone else and abandoned your own flesh and blood?" Anice asked. Robert looked at her in surprise.

  "'Twould seem so," Struan answered in a strangled voice.

  "Robert, you do not need him. Duncan will make us welcome there." She was furious upon learning the truth. How Robert had grown into such a loving and wonderful man, under circumstances like these, she could not imagine. Then she realized that Duncan and Margaret were the answer to that.

  "Anice, ye have the most to gain or lose by his words. If he acknowledges me and yer marriage to Sandy is invalidated, I gain title and position, but yer son loses it. If we refuse his words, ye will lose title and position and must be contented to live outside the bonds of marriage, but yer son will inherit."

  Before answering, she looked to Struan.

  "But what of your promises and pledges to Glynnis and Edana and Dougal? Can ye simply forswear them? Yer word will no' be accepted again by allies or enemies," Anice asked, reminding Struan of the other complications that would come from this.

  "I have lived my life in service to this clan. Every decision I have made haes been made with that in mind. If setting things to right is best for the clan, then I will do it and let those promises rest with those who died."

  She looked at Robert and saw that he was torn between wanting his father to say the words and leaving it all behind. When he looked at her, she smiled and let him know that she would be by his side no matter what course life took. He took her hand in his and kissed it.

  "Do not let your pride get in the way now, Rob. Take what he offers if that is what you wish."

  "And Craig's place?"

  "Craig will lead the clan if it is his destiny to do so."

  "Then, Struan, I will accept yer acknowledgment."

  Struan grunted and turned to leave. The gesture was so much like Robert she wanted to laugh out loud at it. He led her o
utside, where an even bigger crowd had now gathered to hear Struan's declaration that would begin a process to right the wrongs done so many years ago to him.

  He walked out before her, carrying her son, whose life he had saved, in his arms. Her heart felt so full of love she knew that the life before them would be filled with happiness.

  As Struan made his announcement, Robert leaned close to her ear and whispered to her. "Have my children, did ye say?"

  She felt the heat of a blush enter her cheeks at his words. "Aye, I think I did say something like that."

  "Can I make ye my prisoner like yer faither did to yer maither?"

  "Only if I can make you mine."

  She looked at him and saw the promise of passion and pleasure and love in his eyes.

  "I am yours, my lady Anice."

  "Nay. Say it the way you usually say it. When you thought I did not notice."

  "My... Anice." He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close.

  "Aye, my... Robert."

  Epilogue

  Ten years later

  Robert leaned down and picked up a handful of dirt. Holding it out, he tossed it on the coffin and then supported Anice as she did the same. In her eighth month, she was ungainly on her feet and the slope made her steps even more precarious. Robert nodded and the boys followed their example. Craig led his six-year-old brother to the end of the grave so that the dirt would land where it should.

  Struan MacKendimen, earl of Dunnedin, was laid to rest on a clear and sunny August morn after a short illness. His grave was dug next to his wife and his other son within the family plot on the hillside near the castle.

  After a few others had tossed dirt in, the workers took shovels to finish the burial. Although Anice looked tired, she stayed by Robert's side until it was done. Then, with his arm to help her, she walked down the hill with him and back towards the keep. The boys ran ahead of them, already planning their next activity for the day, as children did.

  "I am just glad that you made your peace with him, Robert. I am certain it made his passing easier."

  "I did it for ye, wife."

  "Nay, Robert. You did it because you are a good man."

  "A good man, ye say?"

  "Aye. Of course, that's what Robena called you all those years ago."

  "What else did she say about me?" he asked, already knowing the answer. His friend had become his wife's friend as well and he knew what Robena had told his wife those many years before.

  "A good man, but more than a bit daft."

  He laughed with her and then scooped her into his arms rather than letting her walk all the way back to the keep in her condition. As he carried his wife, the new countess of Dunnedin, into her home to prepare for the coming of their child, he reflected on how his life had been changed so much for the better by a love that had been once forbidden between them.

  The End

  Meet Terri Brisbin ~

  Terri Brisbin has been writing romance fiction since 1995 and has sold more than 1.5 million copies of her historical and paranormal romance novels, novellas and short stories in more than 20 countries around the world. When not living the glamorous life of a romance author in the southern NJ suburbs (or pining over Gerard Butler), Terri spends her time being a wife to one, mom to three as well as a dental hygienist to hundreds.

  A National Readers’ Choice Award finalist, three-time RWA RITA® finalist, and winner of the NJRW Golden Leaf and Desert Rose Golden Quill, Terri is now working on more romance novels and novellas for release through 2013 from Harlequin Historical. You can visit her website for more info about the author and her work or to contact her: www.terribrisbin.com

  Available now from Terri Brisbin:

  Kidnapping the Laird - A Historical Short Story

  A Love Through Time – Book 1 of the MacKendimen Trilogy

  Once Forbidden – Book 2 of the MacKendimen Trilogy

  Coming Soon ~

  A Matter of Time – Book 3 of the MacKendimen Trilogy

  The Queen’s Man – A Time Travel romance

  Here’s an excerpt of the next MacKendimen story:

  A Matter of Time. . . .

  Prologue

  An rud a bhitheas an dan, bitheadh e do-sheachanta.

  One cannot bypass one's fate. 'Tis as 'twas meant to be.

  The heat! Dear God, the heat!

  He tried to move away but it surrounded him, entrapped him. He forced his eyes open and still his body would not obey his commands.

  Flames! Taller and wider than he. Waves of heat washed over him, stealing his breath, overpowering and terrorizing him. His mouth and throat were parched, but sweat gathered and ran down his face, his chest. He knew he couldn't survive much longer—he felt his strength draining away. He could fight no longer.

  Then she was there. Her presence called to him, urged him on in his struggle. He stared at her, amazed that someone could brave the fire's heat. In an instant, she stood before him—her head barely reached his chin. With her head bowed, he could not see her features, only the porcelain translucence of her skin and the flowing black hair.

  Look at me, he thought, unable to speak the words.

  Her head lifted, revealing to him long lashes matching the black strands of hair and a full, red mouth.

  Open your eyes, he pleaded soundlessly. Look at me.

  Her glowing green eyes startled him. She raised her hands and reached out to touch his face. Their gazes locked as he waited for her touch. A blessed coolness spread through him from her hands, through his head, chest, stomach, limbs. He saw the flames and knew their heat had not lessened. But he felt only her hands. He allowed her comfort to strengthen him, to remove his pain, to bring forgetfulness.

  Then the glow left her eyes and she stepped away. His stomach clenched in fear of the heat and the pain he faced without her intervention. He tried to reach for her but his body would still not respond. He saw regret in her eyes as she backed away and moved through the flames.

  She was gone.

  No! his mind screamed.

  Stay....

  Please . .. help me....

  * ~ * ~ *

  "Help me!"

  The loudness of his own cry woke him from the troubled sleep. Douglas lurched up in his bed, entangled in the damp sheets, covered in sweat. Panting, still in the clutches of the fear and pain of the dream, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and pushed the sheets down and off his legs.

  He balanced unevenly on those still-shaky legs, dragged his fingers through his sweaty hair and swallowed long and deep trying to clear his clogged throat. Then he made his way to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on a light. He knew from experience that the terror would pass quickly and he would be left with ...

  He would be left with a vision of a woman who either saved him or tempted him every night in his sleep. He'd never met her, didn't know her, other than in his dreams.

  But, his soul told him that she would alter his life when they met... and they would meet. In turning away from other women, real women in his life, he knew it was just a matter of time before he found the lady with green eyes.

  Just a matter of time...

  Chapter 1

  Dunnedin, Scotland

  In the near future

  "So, have ye come to seek out yer destiny?"

  Douglas MacKendimen turned around slowly at the familiar voice. Mairi, fortune-teller extraordinaire, stood before him awaiting his response.

  "No, Mairi, I know my destiny." Douglas laughed as the old woman's face tightened with stubbornness. They'd played this game before.

  "'Tis coming yer way soon, boy, and ye willna be able to stop it." Mairi wagged a bony finger close to his nose. She clutched her woolen shawl around her stooped body and whispered something he couldn't quite make out.

  "What did you say?" Douglas moved closer and bent down nearer to her. "I couldn't make out your last words."

  "I said that ye be as stubborn as yer father and mother. Ye tempt the Fates w
i' yer cockiness just as they did, so long ago."

  "Mairi, please don't start with those tales you told me as a child. They are just stories you made up to keep me interested in coming back here."

  Douglas stuck his hands into the pockets of his warm leather jacket. Whatever made him come out to the ruins in this weather, at this time of night? He hadn't even stopped at the manor house other than to drop off his bags. The pull was always at its strongest when he arrived. For reasons he'd never been able to discern or understand, his first stop on every trip back here to Dunnedin was this ancient stone arch. And, as always, Mairi knew he was here. His breath curled around him in the cool air.

  "Is that what ye believe? Only stories for restless bairns? Och, there will be a reckoning for ye, lad, and it comes to ye soon." Mairi paced now, in front of him, in front of the old stone arch.

  Doug ran his fingers through his overlong hair. This trip to Scotland for the family reunion had been a last-minute thing for him. He was tired, jet-lagged and exhausted from double shifts at the hospital... and from sleepless nights caused by the strength of the dreams. Maybe now that he was here he would get some rest.

  So, he thought as he readjusted the collar of his jacket, he really needed to sleep and not be standing here arguing with this distant relative... especially one who should be in her own warm cottage and not exposed to the harsh weather surrounding them.

  "Mairi," he started, placing his hands on her frail shoulders and drew her into an embrace. "I will visit you tomorrow and you can tell me those stories again ...when I'm awake enough to pay attention." Douglas stepped back and smiled. "Can I walk you back home?"