Highland Vow

by Hannah Howell

  “I thought that was what she would do,” Maldie said, the satisfaction clear to hear in her sultry voice as she hooked her arm through Balfour’s. “Shall we go?”

  “I suppose it is for the best that it was stopped,” agreed Balfour as he began to escort her to the front gates at a leisurely pace.

  “It was. I dinnae think she e’er truly meant for him to do it anyway.”

  “Probably not. Why do ye think she was hesitant to go to him?”

  “Fear, my love. He hurt her verra deeply. What woman wishes to chance such pain again? Aye, he wooed her, but I think, for all his pretty words and fine tokens, he ne’er said what she needed to hear to soothe her fear.”

  “So matters are not yet settled completely.”

  “Nay, but they will be soon.”

  “Are ye certain?”

  “Balfour, the mon was on his hands and knees before his kinsmen, our kinsmen, our men-at-arms, and anyone else close enough to see our gates. What do ye think?” She smiled when he laughed and kissed her cheek.

  “I think ye will be verra busy for the next few days planning a wedding.”

  “Is that your Elspeth?”

  At Dougal’s question, Cormac rose, sitting back on his heels and looking toward the gates. He caught his breath when he saw Elspeth. Her thick hair was loose, swirling around her like an angry storm cloud, and her skirts were hitched up to her knees as she ran toward him. She made him ache.

  “Aye, ’tis my Elspeth.”

  “Keep crawling,” Dougal said, roughly pushing him back down.

  Cormac was just sitting back up to succinctly tell Dougal what he thought of him when Elspeth reached him. He barely kept himself from falling backward when she bumped into him as she stumbled to a halt. Then, as she grabbed his arm, he saw that she was weeping and felt his heart clench with fear. Tears were not the sign he had been looking for.

  Elspeth yanked on Cormac’s arm, trying to pull him to his feet. “Dinnae do this,” she said, her voice soft and hoarse with tears. “Please dinnae to this. I am sorry. I was just so verra angry.”

  Realizing that she wept for him, he tugged her down until she knelt on the ground in front of him. He smiled faintly as, still weeping, she almost frantically brushed the dirt from his hands. When she started to do the same to his hose, he quickly took her hand in his. He was so starved for her that the slightest brush of her hand on his leg was almost enough to break his control. A soft grunt escaped him when she flung herself against his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. Elspeth obviously did not recognize the danger she was in, and for once, she was too upset to sense the desire rapidly flooding his body.

  “I am sorry,” she mumbled into his doublet, still crying softly. “I ne’er meant for ye to actually do it. I swear I didnae.”

  He put his hands on her damp cheeks, pulled her face back until he could look her full in the eyes, and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Ye shouldnae be apologizing to me, angel. A wee bit of groveling willnae kill me, although I am glad ye didnae make me go too far. These rocks are verra hard on a mon’s knees.” He had to kiss her again when she smiled. “To see ye smile again, I would be tempted to crawl through fire.”

  She reached out one trembling hand to stroke his cheek. “Isabel?” she asked even though just saying the woman’s name threatened to choke her.

  “They sent her and her lover to the gallows. And if ye are searching my eyes for her ghost, ye willnae find it. I swear to ye, I kenned my mistake ere the door finished closing behind you. It but took this poor fool a wee bit of time to clear his muddled brain of ten years’ worth of lies. What I learned of her but confirmed and clarified what I felt.”

  A curse escaped him as a strong hand abruptly grasped him tightly by an arm and yanked him to his feet. Cormac got one brief glimpse of Elspeth tumbling back to sprawl in the dirt before he was crushed against a broad chest. The hold and the slap on the back were both far too painful to be completely friendly. When he was released and saw that the man still gripping him by the arm was Elspeth’s father, he understood.

  “Good to see ye, lad,” Balfour said. “Glad to see that ye brought some of your kinsmen to attend your wedding.”

  “Fither,” Elspeth protested as a young man who hastily introduced himself as Cormac’s brother Dougal helped her to her feet. “Cormac hasnae asked me to marry him.”

  “Nay?” Balfour looked at Cormac. “Interrupted ye a moment too soon, did I?”

  The voice was calm, almost friendly. The smile was an easy one, amiable and welcoming. In the eyes, however, was hard command. Balfour Murray may have been understanding enough not to hunt him down, but now that he was here, he would be held until he married Elspeth. Since that was exactly what Cormac wished to do, he just smiled and nodded.

  “Angel, will ye wed with me?” he asked, biting back a grin as she angrily pushed her tousled hair out of her face and glared at her widely grinning father.

  “Fither, I willnae allow ye to force him,” Elspeth said, although she did think that Cormac looked a little too happy for a man who was being forced to do something he did not wish to do.

  “I am nay forcing the lad,” Balfour said, “and who is the laird here, eh?” He looked at Cormac. “The lass says aye. Introduce me to your kin then.”

  “Fither!” When her mother stepped up beside her and calmly brushed off her skirts as she lowered them, Elspeth said, “Can ye nay stop him?”

  “Any other father would have either killed the lad or dragged him before a priest two months ago,” Maldie said as she nodded a greeting to each new Armstrong she was introduced to. “A handsome lot, these Armstrongs.”

  “I dinnae want him forced to marry me,” Elspeth muttered, hoping that, despite her distraction, she would be able to recall the names of all the handsome young men who stepped forward to kiss her hand.

  “Lass, do ye think the mon was crawling to our gates just to tell ye that it was nice to see ye again?”

  Before she could respond to that sarcasm, Cormac brought a young boy and a plump older woman to stand before her. Shock pushed aside every thought and concern from her mind. One look was all that was needed to know that this was Cormac’s son. Cormac had told her that there were no ghosts, that Isabel was gone, but he had lied. Her ghost rested there in the perfect features of the son she had given Cormac.

  “This is my son, Christopher, and his nurse, Agnes,” Cormac said, not surprised to hear Sir Balfour softly curse, although hearing Lady Maldie do the same did startle him a little.

  It was not easy but, refusing to make the innocent boy pay in even the smallest way for the sins of his parents, Elspeth greeted him and then Agnes with all the charm and courtesy she could drag out of herself. Agnes gave her an approving smile, but her gray eyes were sharp as they studied her face and those of her family. Christopher was sweet, obviously shy, and well mannered, making it easy for Elspeth to keep control of her emotions. She straightened up and looked at Cormac, pleased to see that he had the good sense to be uneasy.

  “Christopher and I are still coming to ken each other,” Cormac said, holding Elspeth’s gaze with his own.

  “Aye,” said Christopher. “Papa met me but two months ago. I lived with Nurse Agnes till then.”

  God bless you, Christopher, Cormac thought as he watched some of the anger leave Elspeth and her family, their scowls and tense stances easing a little. A small frown touched the full mouth he ached to kiss. As long as the child was near, however, he could not give Elspeth the fuller explanation needed to soothe away those very unkind thoughts she was so clearly having about him. A moment later, he decided, yet again, that Nurse Agnes was a very wise woman.

  “Come, lad. We shall go to the keep.” Agnes looked at Maldie, bobbed a curtsy, and said, “If that is acceptable, m’lady.”

  “Of course,” replied Maldie. “Go right along, all of you. Ye will be shown where to freshen yourselves, where ye can sleep, and anything else ye may wish. We will be along in
a minute.”

  The moment Agnes, Christopher, and the others with Cormac walked away, Elspeth demanded, “Isabel?”

  “Aye. She kept him hidden from me for all of his seven years. If ye can recall, we once puzzled o’er her apparent barrenness. Weel, she wasnae barren. From what she said, Christopher is here simply because she couldnae rid her body of him as she had the others.” He nodded when both Elspeth and her mother gasped in horror. “I ne’er had the heart to ask if any of those others were mine, too.”

  “So when she kenned she was going to die, she finally told ye about the child?” Elspeth asked.

  “Nay, I think she would have gone to her grave with her secret, but she thought she had finally found a use for the boy. She said she would give him to me if I helped her get free. She said that, if I didnae, I would ne’er see my son alive. God help me, I might have done it just to get the boy, e’en though I wondered if she was lying yet again.”

  Elspeth could tell by the look on his face that he was still very angry about that. “But ye didnae do it.”

  “Nay, I was saved from making that choice by the keen eyes and wits of Sir Ranald. He had been watching Isabel since the death of her third husband, and so he kenned about the child despite how rarely Isabel went to see her own son. The moment she was captured, I think he suspected how she would try to use the boy and brought him to me.” Although it was evident that Elspeth was no longer angry, he was not sure what she thought or felt and did not want to ask while her family stood there.

  “Come,” Maldie said as she slipped her arm through Cormac’s. “We will join the others now.”

  “Does Christopher ken the truth about Isabel?” Elspeth asked as she fell into step on the other side of Cormac, her hands clenched into tight fists at her side as she resisted the strong urge to touch him.

  “As much as a child that young can,” replied Cormac. “He called her Lady Isabel and actually seemed pleased that he could go with me and ne’er have to see her again. Both Agnes and I have told him that she is dead and why, although we ne’er told him exactly what crimes she had committed. He sometimes mentions her in his bedtime prayers, but otherwise, ne’er asks of her or speaks of her. To Christopher, Agnes is his mother, and Lady Isabel is the woman who made him verra unhappy during her rare visits.”

  “’Tis verra sad, but in this case that may be for the best,” said Maldie. “Be grateful that he was blessed with Agnes.”

  While her mother asked Cormac questions about Christopher, obviously trying to see if there were any wounds of the heart or spirit that might need tending, Elspeth tried to decide how she felt about it all. She felt no anger or dislike of the child, knew she would have no trouble loving him as all children deserved and needed to be loved. What she was not sure of was what Cormac felt about it all. Men often felt something for the mother of their child, and considering what Cormac had always felt for Isabel, such a bond should be even greater. Yet she sensed little more than disgust and anger in him whenever he mentioned Isabel. It was hard to believe he could have changed toward the woman so completely. Somehow she was going to have to get him to talk about it.

  There was no doubt in her mind that she would soon be married to Cormac. Her father wanted it and Cormac appeared to want it as well. Part of her was elated, yet another part was deeply afraid. She would be married to the father of her child, to the mate of her heart and soul, to the man who could make her burn with just a look. There would be no more lonely nights, no more aching for his touch or the sound of his voice. Her fear was bred of the fact that he had not openly chosen her over Isabel, that he had come to her only after Isabel was dead. Despite the gifts, the sweet words, and even his grand gesture in front of Donncoill’s gates, she did not know what was in his heart. It was just another thing they needed to talk about. Cormac might be telling the truth when he said there were no more ghosts inside of him, but Elspeth suddenly realized that she had a few.

  By the time the evening meal was done, Elspeth realized that she was not going to have a chance to talk to Cormac until after they were married. The wedding was to be held in three days and she suspected that Cormac was going to be heartily sick of her family’s company by then. Everyone was friendly and annoyingly cheerful, but she quickly saw how one or more of the men in her family constantly and closely shadowed Cormac. Someone also shadowed her at all times. The longest time she was able to stand alone with Cormac was barely long enough to ask him how he fared before Payton and her brother Connor arrived to lead him away. Elspeth cursed, leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, and glared at the crowded hall, most especially her family.

  “They willnae allow ye two within feet of each other until ye kneel afore that priest,” Cormac’s brother William said as he slouched against the wall on her right.

  “In three days ye will have him all to yourself,” said his brother Dougal as he slouched against the wall on her left. “’Tisnae so verra long.”

  “Mayhap I wish to speak privately with the mon my fither is dragging to the altar,” she said, her glare doing nothing to vanquish their identical looks of amusement.

  “Now, lass,” said William, “does our brother look verra troubled by all of this? Why did ye think he came here?”

  “And just mayhap it isnae the why of his arrival that troubles me. Mayhap ’tis the when.”

  “The when?”

  “Aye, after Isabel is dead and gone.”

  “Ah,” William murmured as he watched her walk away. “So that is the way of it.”

  “Do ye think we should warn Cormac?” asked Dougal.

  “Warn our brother the idiot who let that bonny lass leave his bed? Our brother who, in three short days, will be curled up between the sheets with a lass who, in his own words, has a voice that could melt rock? Our brother who could revel in the love and passion of that wee lass with but the muttering of a few sweet words?” He looked at Dougal and cocked one brow.

  “Ye are right. The bastard is already too cursed lucky for words. Let him figure it out for himself.”

  Cormac watched Elspeth leave the great hall and sighed. Her father was obviously willing to forgive and forget. He should be grateful and he was. Her family was welcoming him with open arms, and considering all he had done, he knew he was very fortunate in that. In three days he would be married to Elspeth; he would be able to love her and hold her close throughout the night. He should be in the chapel on his knees thanking God for that. However, her family, smiling and friendly as they were, clearly meant to keep him and Elspeth completely separated for every hour of the day and night between now and the wedding. It was going to be a very long three days.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “And just where might ye be going, lass?”

  Elspeth squeaked in alarm and stumbled as her mother’s voice came sharply to her through the shadows. She struggled to think of something to allay the suspicion she could see on her mother’s face when she turned toward her. The way her mother stood in the doorway of her bedchamber—her arms crossed and one small, slippered foot tapping—made Elspeth feel like a small child caught out in some mischief again.

  “I was feeling a wee bit hungry,” Elspeth said.

  “Ah, I see,” her mother murmured. “It must be the excitement of your wedding on the morrow that has caused ye such a strange confusion.”

  “What confusion?”

  “The confusion that has ye tiptoeing in the wrong direction in the verra keep ye grew up in.” Maldie shook her head when her daughter blushed; then she grabbed Elspeth by the arm and tugged her into the room. “I have some food in here.”

  “I just wished to speak with him,” Elspeth muttered as her mother dragged her into a small room just off her bedchamber and pushed her into a seat before a small table. “Dinnae ye think he and I should talk a little ere we are set before a priest?” she asked, looking over the selection of bread, cheese, fruit, and tarts on the table and helping herself to an apple tart.

  “Do ye mean
to tell him about the child?” Maldie asked.

  Elspeth choked on her tart, but then winced as her mother slapped her on the back a little too sharply before handing her a soothing glass of wine. “How long have ye kenned the truth?” she finally rasped.

  Maldie shook her head again and sat down opposite Elspeth. “I guessed it shortly after ye came home. I kenned it for certain a few weeks later. Elspeth, my child, did ye really think I wouldnae see it?”

  “Nay,” she said, a little disgusted with herself. “In truth, I didnae think on it too often except to mark when my first menses didnae arrive when it should and then my second didnae, either. Then I would fret a while o’er how to tell ye and Fither and what would happen. Then there would be a few visions of Fither dragging a gaunt, still grieving Cormac from the shrine he had built to Isabel and forcing him to kneel with me afore a priest.” She was not surprised to hear her mother badly stifle a giggle, for it was a truly preposterous imagining. “Then I would be right back to trying verra hard not to think of the mon at all. And if I couldnae think of the mon, I couldnae let my thoughts dwell on the child I carried, either, could I?”

  “Of course not. Weel, were ye going to tell Cormac about the child?”

  “Nay, that wasnae my plan. I just wished to talk to him. We didnae get to say much ere he was surrounded by my kinsmen. Somehow I thought talking to him might ease some of my concerns. I dinnae feel all that sure that Isabel is truly gone from our lives.”

  “Because of the boy?”

  “A wee bit. If I can see his mother in him, surely Cormac can as weel. And I dinnae ken if I should worry on that or nay.”