The Highland Captive

by Johanna Maas

  He was astonished to see how she had reacted to the horse and how the mare had responded to her. He watched intently as his heart surely broke as Lizbeth stroked the animal's neck. As she turned her face slightly towards him, he noted the emotion plainly etched upon her face. Even with her eyes closed, he could see the sign of the tears and the slight trails of wetness as they descended downwards.

  He did have a slight understanding of her joy for the stables and the beasts within had always captured his heart, too. It is where he would choose to be if he were given the option. And he seemed to have a talent for understanding the lot. His father had recognized this in him, so at an early age it had become his sole responsibility to manage the stables and the horseflesh of the keep.

  Not wanting to break the tenderness of the moment but only wishing to bring her more happiness, he asked quietly.

  "Would you like to ride her?"

  Lizbeth was startled from her reflections and when she opened her eyes she found herself gazing into the bluest eyes she ever remembered seeing. The surprise was etched upon her face as she could not hide the pleading in her eyes. Gently she responded, "You would allow me to do this?"

  Blake found himself quite emotional at her reaction as his breath caught in his throat and found himself unable to speak. For what seemed like long moments, he gazed at her and could only shake his head at her heartfelt response. For something as simple as the promise of a ride upon a horse could bring such joy to her. As he stared at her vulnerable face, a smile touched her lips while making her more lovely than ever as her deep blue eyes took on yet a darker hue.

  "Are you able to ride alone?"

  She was speechless and realized he could have no idea of the depth of the happiness he had afforded her for this one consideration. Lizbeth found she could not find her voice and could only nod her head eagerly as she impatiently awaited her mount. Her heart began to race as she could only think of the pleasure this outing would bring.

  Lizbeth watched with an excitement and within minutes he had two horses saddled. The great gray one had been readied for her and his great black steed for himself. After they had walked their mounts outside of the stable, Blake dropped his lead and moved to her side as he grasped her around the waist and lifted her gently upon the mare's back. Immediately, she took the reins within her hands and leaned slightly over the beast's mane as she spoke lowly as she gently rubbed the horse's neck.

  Blake smiled at the true pleasure she was showing as he gained his horse in one swift movement. His own black steed was prancing at the notion of exercise. He held him steady for he did not wish to quicken their pace before he understood her skill at sitting a horse.

  Lizbeth had not felt so empowered as she had at that very moment and had not felt so in years. Delightful memories of her carefree days when she was but a child came flooding back and thought of her home and her brother Macay. She thought of the hours she spent within the saddle and smiled warmly as those happy thoughts filled her mind.

  Lizbeth sat regally upon her mount, feeling the power of the animal below her legs as snippets of her previous life continued to flash before her eyes. With a joyful heart, she eagerly followed the warrior as they leisurely walked down the path, over the drawbridge and out to the grassy field beyond the gates.

  When they reached the open area, Lizbeth watched as his stallion pranced eagerly. It was quite obvious Blake was reining him in. She knew then this must be the place they exercised the animals regularly, for it was apparent the great black wished to gain his lead. With a slight smile and a feeling of sure recklessness within her heart, she bent low over her mare's neck and squeezed tightly with her knees. With these actions, she silently gave her animal its full lead and caught Blake completely by surprise.

  The gray reared up slightly then bolted forward as she moved quickly over the tangled grass. Lizbeth smiled and felt a complete sense of excitement as the strong mare raced forward and the wind began to bite at her cheek. As she heard the pounding of the hooves echoing, her own body moved in sync with the beast below her. The laughter caught in her throat as she felt a sense of freedom like no other she had experienced as the wind blew harshly through her hair. Her heart beat wildly as she felt the strength consume her as she became one with the mare, the power of her beast pushing her on as the tears of happiness ran freely down her face.

  She heard the thundering of hooves nearing her and felt an arm wrap tightly about her waist as she was decisively pulled from her steed. She quickly wiped away the dampness as they trailed down her cheeks as a fear began to build within her. As she was set firmly upon Blake's lap, she noticed immediately the angry look within his eyes.

  "What were you doing? You could have easily fallen and been injured or even killed!"

  Lizbeth immediately felt contrite and her smile disappeared as a certain dread continued to consume her. It was not a fear for herself but a fear of his anger, for she had never witnessed it. She immediately cowered slightly away from him as the brutality of all she had known over these last seven years welled up within her. She reacted without conscious thought and as if he were going to strike her as she sat trembling upon his lap.

  When he saw how she had reacted to his outburst he immediately regretted his harsh words. He was shocked and angered at himself for he had obviously frightened her. Blake understood it was his own alarm for her safety making him do so, but now realized he had panicked when the mare bolted and his concern for her safety had obviously blinded him to her skill. He looked down dejectedly as she now sat cowering away from him and looking fearful upon his lap, when not moments ago her reactions were quite different.

  "Please, my lady, I do not wish to harm you. I would never harm you. I was afraid for you, truly I was."

  She looked at the great warrior through her lowered lashes, unsure of his reactions and scared for her fate. Lizbeth did not wish to anger him further and was unsure of what his rage would bring. So she said quietly, her voice hitching slightly, "I am s...sorry."

  She lowered her head further, her chin now lying very near her chest as the pain and misery racked her body. Her tears were more than just threatening for they were clearly running down her face. The moments of joy she had just felt and her assured elation were truly forgotten.

  Blake sighed heavily as he placed his finger below her chin and raised her face to his. With his thumb he attempted to brush away her tears as he silently scolded himself for his outburst. She looked so frightened and he felt wounded for the last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him. He pursed his lips and looked away from her, clenching his jaw to hold back his own anger he directed solely at himself.

  Lizbeth watched the flurry of emotions as they lit his face, seeing the fury cross over his brow. She knew in that moment it was she and her recklessness that had caused it. She now understood it was her foolishness that had made him react this way, for she had truly angered him.

  "Please allow me move from your horse, I can walk back to the keep. Truly, that is my wish."

  Lizbeth sat stoically before him as she gazed towards the distant horizon. She could not look upon him as within his arms she pressed her back straight and tall. As the air was stilled all around them she sat as such, not backing down from her request.

  With a sadness for what he had done and wishing he would not harm her further, Blake complied. He gently took her by the waist and set her upon the ground next to his horse. He could only stare as she immediately moved away from him and walked towards the great mare that was quietly grazing nearby.

  With an apprehensive heart, Lizbeth walked away from her warrior and slowly back to the stables collecting the great gray along the way.

  .

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lizbeth stood at the window of her room gazing out over what she now knew to be the Campbell lands as the sun shone brightly in the mid-afternoon. She pursed her lips as the fear pulled at her heart for her mistakes and her foolishness of that day. The warrior had been by
her side continually as she walked the mare back to her stall, but no further words had been exchanged between the two. Just the thought of his anger and how it had consumed him made her quite afraid and unwilling to want to stay by his side. As he began to remove the saddle from the beast's back, she simply fled and returned to the keep and up to her rooms. As Lizbeth moved quickly down the darkened hallway, there was a fear that settled within her breast and she had to concede his anger was only directed at her.

  Lizbeth realized only too late the excitement she had felt for being upon the gray mare had made her act recklessly. She now would most likely never be allowed to return to the stables ever again and that saddened her so. In her childhood, the stables were the one place that had brought her a sense of contentedness and of peace.

  Lizbeth felt quite alone and awkward for her place was still quite puzzling within this household. What would they do with her and what was expected of her? While Cait had said she was their guest, she knew she could not reside here forever. At some point she must attempt a journey home. But until that time she realized they may not want her when they understood from where she had come and what her life had been truly like these last seven years.

  Lizbeth reflected back on Cait's words as she said, "clans are important, clans are everything". Lizbeth understood with those clans came certain duties and strong alliances. With a fear upon her heart, she realized one day when it was revealed to whom she truly belonged, she was assured it would change everything.

  Cait had been in the great hall when Lizbeth had returned suddenly and watched as she quickly moved across the chamber and up the stairs. She knew immediately something was terribly wrong. She was about to follow when Blake entered the great chamber to only stand awkwardly upon the landing.

  As Cait moved near her brother she asked, "What has happened?"

  Blake looked rather guilty as he explained what had transpired out upon the field as he took responsibility for his harsh words.

  With a sure sadness upon her face, Cait exclaimed, "Oh, that poor child!"

  Blake looked at Cait with incredulity. Child? Was she truly a child? He was beginning to understand the feelings Lizbeth invoked in him when she was near and those feelings were reserved only for a woman and not a mere child. He wished for nothing more than to take her within his arms, hold her tightly to his chest and feel her warmth beneath him. He realized with a full force he wanted her and in the fullest sense as a man would want a woman.

  He closed his eyes as his heart raced, knowing his mind should not be moving in this direction. If his father had any idea as to where his thoughts were wandering, he would be angry and would most likely wish to send her away. Blake knew being the son of a chieftain and the eldest son of a chieftain, his life was not his own. His existence would never be his for he was committed to no one other than to the clan itself. Any union to be sanctioned would be done so for pure strategy and for the sake of the Campbell clan. Much as his dear Cait's life was decidedly not her own either.

  Blake looked over at Cait with a sure sadness upon his heart for the situation she found herself in. Just a few short months previously, Cait had been pledged by their father to be wed to a clansman to their south where a good alliance was to be made. Her intended was the eldest son of a true warrior and a respected Highlander. It was deemed by their father to be a noble marriage and they would be traveling very soon to their keep so Cait could be wed. But Cait had no say. She was never consulted, nor was her opinion asked. But that was the way of it and their father's way, forever abiding by the Scottish Highlander traditions.

  Neither of these two families had ever met but it was the means in the Highlands to make such arrangements. Communications were made by way of secret missives, pledging lives together for the sake of their peoples. These marriages uniting clans could be difficult for those involved but it was how they survived and kept their people strong, banding together against the other large and more powerful clans.

  Those members of the chieftain's house, any chieftain's house, could never expect their lives to be their own for they owed it to their laird and to their clans. It was their solemn duty. They all knew it and they were all expected to understand it and abide by those very laws which had protected their people for generations. And undoubtedly would keep their clans strong for generations to come.

  *****

  The evening meal was soon to be upon them and Cait realized Lizbeth had still not come down from her room. The door was partially opened as Cait stood in the hallway peering inside at the woman within. Lizbeth was standing motionless and in front of the window with her head slightly bowed. Cait opened the door further and moved over the threshold as her heart broke for the misery that was clearly displayed upon her slight face.

  When Lizbeth heard Cait approaching, she averted her eyes and dropped her chin for the shame she held in her heart. She quite understood that her foolishness of her actions earlier in the day was surely now known by all.

  It was Cait who spoke softly, "The evening meal is upon us, will you not come down and join my family?"

  Lizbeth felt the tenderness of her words and it pulled upon something buried deep within, for images of her dear mother now consumed her once again. Her memories evoked a sure sadness at her terrible loss, as the tears instantly pricked at her eyes once again. She felt the sadness not only for the death of her mother but for the uncertainties of her life. As she mourned her misery, she felt the strong arms of Cait circle her as she held her once again. Even with very few words spoken, this woman was forever understanding her grief, a thankfulness consuming her for this one small allotment.

  Lizbeth sighed heavily and breathed deeply in an attempt to control her emotions. She spoke softly, "I am very sorry, my lady. I do not wish for you to see me in such a continual state of sorrow."

  Cait's heart broke for her sadness and drew her in one last time for a quick and silent hug. Together they then moved over to the basin of water so that Lizbeth could refresh herself and wash away her despondency, the coolness brining only a slight relief to the pain residing upon her heart.

  *****

  The next morning after Cait and Lizbeth broke their fast together alone in the great hall, the two women ventured out of doors in search of berries. Cait had insisted upon this plan for the day was bright and sunny and the temperature warm as a slight breeze was in the air. Each armed with their own baskets, they gaily moved along to the back wall of the keep where the prickly bushes had grown. Lizbeth was determined to lighten her heart for it was a new day. And she had much to be thankful for.

  As they picked the ripe fruit, Cait relayed stories of her childhood and of the trials she had as an awkward youth. She spoke of how her brothers would tease her unmercifully and forever play tricks upon her. She even told of the evening when her younger brother Lucas had laid a toad within the covers of her bed…

  Lizbeth's mirth spilled over at the sure wretchedness of his prank. She visualized within her mind as the poor unsuspecting Cait threw back the covers and hurriedly crawled into bed as she felt the movement of the pitiful toad down by her feet. How her screams must have panicked the castle.

  Lizbeth stood up, straightening her back as she smiled in the bright sunshine as a new found lightness touched upon her heart. She watched as the gentle Cait continued to speak warmly of her family. It was obvious they were a close one, a loving bunch and so reminiscent of the Stewart. While the stories she told were not of her own, they reminded her much of her life so many years ago and before her tragedy struck.

  When the berries were picked and each of their baskets more than half full, they began their leisurely stroll back to the keep through the maze of small buildings. As they proceeded, Lizbeth spied a toad on the road ahead jumping freely about. With a giggle, she pointed at the leaping creature thinking only of the shameful prank those many years ago and said, "Quick, shall we grab it for some assured retribution?"

  Lizbeth felt a warmth in her heart for this wom
an beside her as a slight giggle escaped her. When she gazed at Cait and her amusement was returned, her own mirth overflowed and a full laugh was upon both of them for the remembrance of childish plan. They continued to walk together as she rounded the edge of the building, not watching to where she was walking as the joy consumed her. In that instant she collided heavily with a large body, her laughter immediately halting and now caught within her throat.

  Quite startled, she looked up into the eyes of her intimidating warrior, Blake. She had crashed solidly into his hardened bronzed chest and nearly upset her and the basket of berries she held. She gasped as she startled, her hand flying to her lips as the memories of his previous anger surfaced. A fear immediately consumed her while panic captured her heart as the laughter died in her throat.

  Lizbeth stepped slightly back a small pace and turned to Cait, all signs of happiness removed from her face as an alarm began to grow heavily within her breast. She placed her own basket within Cait's hands as she stepped back slowly. She looked at her with a pained expression and quickly muttered, "If you will excuse me…"

  Without looking back, Lizbeth turned abruptly and lifted her skirts slightly as she fled to the keep and the comfort of her rooms.

  Blake could only stare in sadness as he watched her reaction to him. His heart felt as if it were crushed within his chest for the fear was clearly written upon her face. And the accusing and harsh glare he saw within Cait's eyes merely pained him all the more.

  With resignation and before his sister could speak, he raised his hands before himself in surrender. With his silent actions, he stopped any words that would come from her. Blake turned abruptly, a sadness now consuming him as a misery descended upon his heart.