Highlander's Forbidden Soulmate

by Lydia Kendall

  “And d’ye remember where tha man was found?” Hector replied, his mind spinning with many theories and conclusions.

  “Right there.” Hagar pointed to a thicket of rushes not even a stone’s throw from Ivana’s house. It was criminally easy to hear a crying baby from that short distance, take him, and hide him. If what Hagar had said about Ivana was true - and Hector had no doubt it was - this woman had made off with his brother. The odds of finding Andrew alive surged substantially, but how was he going to find him?

  Luckily, the towns between Cladich and Clan MacTavish were only three, and if the woman had a bairn to care for there was no way she would stay in the woods where there were little resources. And besides, she was old. She wouldn’t travel long. That meant he had a good chance of finding a record of this Ivana and, hopefully, his brother.

  Something bothered him though. Why hadn’t he heard this from Fionnlagh? “Did ye tell yer cousin, Fionnlagh this?”

  “I tried, but he dinnae believe me,” Hagar replied. “They all thought she had just left - she had nae family ties tae hold her here.”

  Looking at the darkening sky, Hector knew he should get back to Victoria and Donald who were probably worrying. “Thank ye, Hagar. Ye’ve given me more than I ever thought I’d get. I cannae thank ye enough. Let’s get back tae tha town.”

  The trip up the slope was harder than going down as Hagar’s knees didn’t bend much to climb. Hector offered to carry her, but she refused. Taking their time, they eventually got to the tavern where Hector ordered a meal for her and gave her a coin.

  Rejoining a worried Victoria and a similarly anxious Donald, Hector kissed her forehead and then told them what he had found out. Victoria’s eyes seemed permanently wide while Hector told them that the woman who had been staring at her had a strong suspicion who had taken baby Andrew, and how it was just too coincidental for him to disappear with that woman so near.

  “So, we need tae find any records o' Ivana or Ivy as she used fer her name, from here tae Kilmartin, aye?” Donald replied.

  “Aye,” Hector replied, as he looked at his companion. Days on the road had grown Donald’s beard out, and though a bit unkempt, Donald was as calm as ever.

  “An’ we start in tha mornin', aye?” Donald concluded, to see Hector’s nod. “All right then, let’s go engage a room, then I’ll get tha horses some hay an’ water.”

  Paying the bill, Hector led Victoria out into the dusk and down the lane to another inn that had more comforts than Fionnlagh’s. Settling in, Hector absentmindedly took off his shirt, unintentionally showing Victoria the roadmap of the scars on his body, before he bent to tug his boots off.

  “What happened to your side?” Victoria asked from her bed. “It looks like you were…burnt?”

  Hector looked up from his feet and laughed softly, “Me first real hunt, a boar nearly gored me, but tha men I was wi’ killed it an’ seared tha wound shut. It hurt like tha fires o' hell, but I lived. Me Da told me it was tha mark o’ a hunter, tha' a man couldnae be called one if a wild beast hasnae hurt him.”

  “That’s…unthinkable,” Victoria replied while moving off the bed. Now before him, she traced the dark puckered line on his skin. “And what about this one, on your chest?”

  “Sword fight,” Hector murmured. “Tha’ one nicked me too close.”

  “And this one?” Victoria asked running her fingertips over his arm, “What happened here?”

  “Fell on broken glass,” Hector’s voice had gone deep and husky as Victoria traced the silver scar. Her touch was affecting him, twisting his gut into knots and sending fire through his veins.

  He was tempted - so strongly tempted - to lock the door and take her, but he refrained. Again, his mind told him Victoria needed comfort, a good bed, and hours of romance to leave her shivering with want before he took her.

  There wasn’t much he could do but kiss her, and he did, taking his time to cup her face, hold her hip, and breathe on her slightly trembling lips before kissing her fully. The taste of her mouth was something Hector wished never to forget. Her lips were soft, so tender that Hector felt an encompassing need to feel them on his body. Delving deeper into the kiss, Hector was pleased when Victoria didn’t play pliant, and kissed him back ardently.

  This lady wasn’t one to play coy, and he loved that. Women who played games irked him. To find a lady who was decisive and confident had always been a long desire of his. And with Victoria, Hector knew he had found it.

  Pulling back, he kissed her lips once more and murmured, “We better stop or Donald will come find us in a decidedly…indecent position.”

  When he expected her to turn away, Victoria softly said as she rested her hand on his warm chest, “I love you, Hector, and I’ve already decided to be yours.”

  Hector felt rooted to the square of floor where he stood, and was wordless before he rested his forehead on hers, “An’ here I kent I was goin' tae be alone, in me love fer ye.”

  “Why would you think that?” Victoria replied with a tilt to her head.

  Because yer a Moore lass an’ me family hae had more than enough trouble wi’ yer family. Because I want nothin’ more than tae make ye mine an’ I fear me family wouldnae take tae ye as me woman or even accept ye otherwise, Hector thought but didn’t say a word of his worries.

  “It isnae important,” Hector replied as he kissed her again, “Nae again.”

  I’ll make ye mine even if the world’s agin' it.

  Chapter 25

  The single stroke of good luck Hector had with the woman Hagar seemed like the only thing that was going his way as they hadn’t found a trace of the woman Ivy in any of the three towns between Cladich and Clan MacTavish.

  The first town of Dail Mhàilidh, the one that was the most sensible option for the old woman to go to, had no trace of her. Even the elders there who were noted to have long memories did not recall any old woman with a child, Ivana or Ivy, coming to their doorsteps seven-and-twenty years ago.

  Victoria had lent her voice, reasoning with Hector that possibly the woman had feared she would be found out in that town, as it was very close to the one where she had taken the babe.

  He had taken her word in stride as his spirit had alighted on the very same idea. But the second town, Àth na Crà, had no record of her, either. That night, hunkering down in the forest, had been a bad one. Even though Hector held her and Victoria slept soundly, Hector hadn’t slept a wink all through the night.

  Dark circles under his eyes, his tense disposition only got tenser with the passing hours. While being concerned about him, Victoria had her own fears. What were the chances of her being accepted into Clan MacTavish, a clan that had been ripped apart by her own blood? Would they take the time to listen to her, or dismiss her outright? Would they try to get revenge on her family by locking her up, to never see the light of day again or…or would they kill her?

  An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth…bloodshed for bloodshed, Victoria worried.

  With every step the horse took toward the next village, Cille Mhàrtainn, and eventually toward the Clan on the base of a hill, Victoria’s fear grew until she felt her breath quickening at random times.

  There was one time when she felt so sick that she had to grab Hector’s hand while her other covered her mouth, barring the bile from spewing out. Hector had moved her so fast off the horse that Victoria had no idea how quickly it had happened. That day she had lost her breakfast in the bushes.

  “Lass,” Hector had asked, his tone laced with worry, “D’ye need tae rest?”

  The urge to run away, far away from their destination overtook Victoria while heaving.

  What am I thinking? Victoria thought harshly to herself while she clutched weakly on Hector’s hands. I cannot run away, I cannot run at any time. I love Hector. How can I leave him? I’ve come so far and already made my decision to stay with him and ride through the storm that will come. I am not weak, I have never been a weakling, and I will never be so.
/>   “How long until we get to Clan MacTavish?” Victoria asked faintly, as her throat was still raw and stinging.

  “Two days an’ a half,” Hector replied, “If we ride a guid speed, as we still need tae check tha village o' Cille Mhàrtainn.”

  “I believe we can move on–” Her stomach roiled again, and she dry heaved, coughing air into the already soiled bush.

  “Nae,” Hector decided. “We’re nae goin' anywhere. Donald, get tha horses tae shade an’ we’ll rest fer a while.”

  Victoria knew that Hector’s proclamation of ‘we’ wasn’t true. He and Donald did not need to rest, it was only her, her anxiety and her uneasiness. Under her eyelids, Victoria looked at Donald who had his distinctive calmness as he looked at her and Hector before alighting from his horse.

  “Aye,” Donald said, while grasping the reins of both horses and moving them off the road and into the thicket of trees beside them. With Hector’s arm wrapped around her waist, Victoria was walked toward a makeshift bed under a thick tree and laid down very carefully.

  Her eyes fluttered as she tried to swallow over her still-burning throat and winced.

  “Here, love,” Hector said, as he gently tilted Victoria’s head to meet the mouth of the water-skin. “Drink, slowly.”

  With a few sips, her throat was calmed, but her spirit wasn’t. She could never dare to admit what was worrying her as it felt as though she was admitting to a weakness, something she hated doing. Hector pulled the water-skin away.

  “Donald,” he called over, “Gie me tha' saddle bag,”

  Half insensate, Victoria only felt when the stuffed saddlebag was placed under her head, then felt Hector kiss her on her forehead. “Rest, m'eudail, we’re in nae rush.”

  Her fears, though strong, were covered by exhaustion of her mind that had spread to her body, and she sank into fitful sleep. In and out of sleep, there was no opportunity for her to dream but she did hear voices - Hector and Donald.

  “An’ yer sure she isnae with child?” Donald teased.

  “Nae,” Hector scowled, “I hae nae slept with her…yet. She’s still untouched. Perhaps it's somethin’ she ate?”

  “I dinnae ken it’s tha'.” Donald said quietly, “I ken she’s worried…aboot meetin’ yer Clan.”

  There was a small silence before Hector replied, “I was hopin’ she’d ne'er worry aboot it. I ken she believes tha' me people wouldnae accept her but I’ve been wracking me brain fer ways tae tell her we’re more forgivin’ than most.”

  “Will they?” Donald asked, “Will they, Hector? Her Grandsire killed yer faither’s love an’ he’s tha reason yer brother is missin’ fer over two decades. Yer Da spent half o’ his days searchin’ fer him an’ noo yer doin’ tha same thin.’ Will yer Maw so easily forgive tha child o' a man who caused her tae lose her husband day after day, an’ night after night tae a long-lost love an’ a child tha' was ne’er seen?”

  Hector was silent for a long while. “I love her, Donald. Aye, it does matter tae me how me family is goin' tae react but… I willnae let her go it alone, me frien’.”

  A soft solace was spread over Victoria’s soul, and with Hector’s words of assurance, she found it easier to sleep. When she did wake it was too late to take the road, and her anxiety still lingered as a heavy brick on her chest. After voiding her bladder, Victoria was pulled into Hector’ arms. Though feeling his comforting touch, the young lady was still not settled and dragged up the courage to speak.

  “I heard you,” Victoria said quietly, “when you and Donald were speaking…it’s true, I am terrified of meeting your family.”

  She was softly turned to sit on his lap sideways and her head pressed into Hector’s neck. “I am afraid they’ll see my grandfather, the hatred and scorn he had for your father, and shun me altogether.”

  Cupping the back of her head, Hector massaged the stressed tendons there and felt a little appeased when a soft moan came from Victoria’s mouth.

  “Love, aye, I agree, me people might be shocked, but…it’s no' in us tae hold onto a grudge fer so long. I’ll be mighty surprised if we do, but ne’er fear as I’ll be with ye all tha way - they’ll ne’er touch ye in me presence.”

  Worried blue eyes tilted to him, “But you won’t be there at every moment, Hector. You’re the Laird, officially or not, you will have duties to take care of and people to make sure are provided for. You cannot guard me at every moment.”

  She was right, and they both knew she was right, there was no way Hector could guard her all the time. Victoria knew that she had to fight her own battles eventually. Hector’s lips were pressed tightly at the unsavory realization.

  “I’ll do all I can,” Hector added, “But if anyone, an’ I mean anyone, insults ye, degrades ye or e’en looks at ye sideways, in me absence, ye will tell me, agreed?”

  Smiling, Victoria nodded, but even being mollified, she still felt worried. “Let’s rest. I’m hoping we’ll get some information on Andrew tomorrow at Cille Mhàrtainn.”

  Settling down, Victoria pressed her cheek to Hector’s chest and counted his breaths until she fell asleep.

  Morning came, and after a breakfast of some sweet, succulent fruits and cool spring water, they left on the road toward Cille Mhàrtainn.

  The town was much bigger than the two ones before it, and it took a while to decide where to go and who to speak to. Eventually, Hector found a marketplace and went around the stalls slowly, speaking to the elderly men and women who were old enough to remember the woman named Ivy.

  Sitting under a tree at the far side of the market, and away from the thick mud kicked up by the horses’ hooves, Victoria tried to keep track of Hector’s figure as he meandered his way through the crowd.

  “I’m sorry,” Victoria said quietly to Donald who was standing guard. “I know you’d prefer to be with him instead of guarding me.”

  Donald’s eyes met hers, and he shook his head, “Nae, ye are tha reason we’re even here an’ doin’ this. If it wasnae fer ye, we’d hae no leg tae stand on.”

  She looked down at the hand that was laying on her skirt while a soft breeze fluttered the loose tendrils of her hair around her face. “Am I foolish, Donald, to expect Hector’s family to give asylum to the grandchild of the man that gave them the worst pain and agony of their lives?”

  Victoria didn’t look up, but she could feel Donald’s level blue eyes roving over her head. “I hae ne’er seen Hector all netted with a lassie as he is wi’ ye. Hector isnae a thoughtless man, lass, if he is assured his Clan will accept ye, ye must trust tha' he kens what he’s doing.”

  Donald’s last words were a bit comforting, but Victoria had focused on his first sentence, “And that only makes me more anxious - he’s in love with an outsider. What hope do I have of turning anyone’s favor to me when I have no clue of your ways?”

  Victoria knew she was bordering on being melodramatic, as she was rehashing the same issue that Hector had done his best to solve last night. But she couldn’t help it - she was still terrified.

  “Lass,” Donald said slowly. “Ye may no' ken it, but we Scotsmen aren’t strange tae lovin’ an Englishwoman. It’s been done afore, many a time an’ I can tell ye tha' all ye hae tae do is tae trust yer love fer him.”

  Victoria was about to answer when she spotted Hector coming toward them with an unfathomable look on his face. Standing to greet him, Victoria reached out. “How did it go?”

  “Fer tha most part, nae one remembers any Ivy,” Hector replied, “But there was one man, far up in years, tha' recalled her an’ tha babe. He told me tha' they lived on tha fringes, away from tha town but came into it when they needed supplies.”

  “That’s good then,” Victoria said cautiously, “Isn’t it?”

  “Depends on how ye look on it,” Hector replied while lacing his fingers in hers, “He said they lived here until tha boy was weaned an' was in tha third year, when they suddenly vanished. Nae one saw or heard o' them again.”

  Dejection filled V
ictoria’s chest, but her emotion didn’t even compass half of the glumness on Hector’s face. She knew that, just as she had been, Hector was putting all of his hopes on this town, to get a solid direction that he could work on to find them. Sadly, that hope had disappeared - like the two people they had been chasing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Victoria said remorsefully, “I had thought…we’d finally find him here.”

  Hector tugged her into him and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I ken, but this isnae yer fault. Perhaps I was tae jealous in chasin’ what I should hae realized was a hopeless endeavor.”

  The glumness in Hector’s voice was one Victoria had hoped never to hear and she felt pressed to comfort him. She placed a hand to his chest and looked him square in his dimmed green eyes. “Do you believe he’s still alive, even with all this delay?”