Mesmerized by a Roguish Highlander: A Historical Scottish Romance Novel

by MacKenna, Maddie

  She prayed for forgiveness then held up two fingers. Pure pity shown in the woman’s eyes, “I’m so sorry, Miss. But we’ve seen a lot of injuries like yers with our soldiers, they forget for a while but little by little they remember. I hope ye’ll be the same.”

  With a dim expression, Mary pointed at her and Rinalda cocked her head to the side. “Me? Me parents died when I was two-and-twenty, but I was sent to the Balloch family at eighteen. I have three sisters, older triplets but they were all married off by the time I was ten. Me parents were getting old and knew they had nay way of providing for me so I had to make a choice, come here and live or stay with them and perish. The Laird, Young Lenichton’s faither, generously gave me parents help until the day they died.”

  Her tale was concise but Mary could feel that there were parts in it that Rinalda had left out. Reaching out, Mary laid her hand on Rinalda’s hand and gave her a sympathizing look. Rinalda patted the back of her hand. “I ken, I ken but it was a long time ago. If ye have no family, I’m sure Young Lenichton will find a place for ye here. Dinnea ye worry, yer safe here.”

  If this ruse works, I think I will.

  * * *

  Rarely did Leith use his father’s meeting room as all his life he held it as his father’s hallowed space. The wide room was sparsely furnished with a large wooden table that had serviced many past generations and a bookshelf.

  The fireplace was massive and hanging vertically on the wall was a sword. His father’s sword, hanging from hooks under the cross-guard, had a beautiful jeweled hilt and the blade glinted a sharp, smooth sliver. It had not been used in decades but it was regularly sharpened and put back.

  His mother sat in a chair and he took the other, while entering behind him was Nicolas Cooper, the right hand of his father, Aaron, for as many years as Aaron had been appointed. Having been at the forefront for so many years, he was Leith’s consultant and friend.

  Though the man was nearly three-score and five and had a full head of silver hair anyone would be foolish to discount the man as the stalwart he was. His sharp blue eyes were always watching, seeing, dissecting. He was not one to welcome change until it was absolutely needed. He was a traditionalist at the best and worst.

  Nicolas sat near his mother and pinned him with his gaze. Leith had never really found a way to be at ease when the man looked at him that way. “So, what’s this uproar I hear about a lass in the infirmary? Who is she?”

  “I cannae tell,” Leith lied, “I found her unconscious on the ledge and over the river and kent she was dead at first. I dinnae want to leave her there even if she was dead, so I went to take her body to the town only to feel that she was alive. I rushed her here because I kent she would recover here faster.”

  “And ye have nay ide where she came from?” Nicolas asked with lowered brows.

  Shaking his head, he emphasized. “Nay. When she came, Rinalda asked but she shook her head. She had an injury there. Ye’ve been a warrior for years, ye of all persons should ken how head injuries go hand-in-hand with forgetfulness.”

  Nicolas’ lips twisted then pressed flat. “There must be some way for us to ken where she came from.”

  Making sure to hold Nicolas’ eyes with a calm gaze, Leith nodded, “I agree but if we dinnae find anywhere she can go, she can have a place here.”

  “We’ll have to wait until she recovers then,” his mother Sarah said. “From what I saw she is a lassie who is hurting, inside and out. She was terrified of Rinalda, poor, gentle Rinalda. Her dress was ragged and she’s covered from head to toe with dirt. I ken she’s had a hard life.”

  “Is that so…” Nicolas drawled, “the men that carried her into the infirmary told me that there is not a speck of calluses on her hands. Her palms are softer than balls of cotton. What lass would have a hard life with no calluses, hm?”

  Forcing his eyes to not narrow, Leith leaned back in his seat and casually shrugged, “I cannea tell. Until we ken more about her, how about we give the lass some compassion instead of suspicion? I ken that’s how Faither would have dealt with the situation.”

  “It’s May now,” Nicolas said calmly, but a heaviness coated his words. “Did ye forget that it was only four months ago Cromwell’s man died here. He was responsible for the restoration of their bloody King Charles the Second. Ye dinnea ken someone is seeking revenge?”

  Now, Leith was getting irritated, “The man’s body swelled from the inside and his guts burst. He was nay assassinated. Naythig enough to worth revenge.”

  “Even so, the English will use any means they can to undermine us,” Nicolas said, “Sending a lass as spy isnae beneath them.”

  “And why would she end up in the Highlands instead of the capital?” Leith asked logically. His head canted to the side and his left brow ticked up a notch. Nicolas’ argument was weak and they both knew it. The man just had to find something to put his distrust for the English forward. Thank God, he had made Mary go mute. “Isnae that where spies are sent, hm?”

  His argument was solid and even the seasoned soldier knew it. Nicolas’ eyes went frosty, but his tone was the same calm one, “It is, but we can never tell. It wouldnae do us well to drop our guard now.” He stood and tugged his jerkin. “If ye would excuse me, I have to go see the barracks. A set of soldiers have just come back from the Tremont’s. I need to get their report.”

  “Yer free to go,” Leith said, pretending to tell himself that the man needed his permission.

  As he left, Sarah reached over and tapped his arm. “Dinnae mind him, he’s set in his ways. He cannea give some leniency when trust it just nae in him.”

  Tearing his eyes from the doorway, Leith gave his mother a smile, “I willnae let it bother me too much. How…how is Faither? I never even minded to look in on him when I came because I was so taken up with the injured lass? Was he cruel to ye again since I was gone?”

  His mother pressed a hand to her veiled head and the lines in her face deepened with heavy grief, “I have nay been inside from the day ye left to find help. I still make his food but I dinnae take it to him. It's Dugald or Finlay who goes in. It pains me heart, son, to ken that we have to keep him locked away behind doors and guards but until help comes, it will have to be that way.”

  Reaching over, Leith enveloped his thin mother in his arms. “One day he will be as right back to the man ye kent, mother, and ye ken that I dinnae make empty promises.”

  “I do,” she sighed and extracted herself from him. “I’m going to lie down, Leith. If ye need me, I’ll be in me chambers.”

  He stood as she left then after rubbing his eyes went over to the sword on the wall. In the pommel, there was a gaping hole that many dismissed at sight but Leith knew that the hole used to have a jewel inside it. A multifaceted sapphire stone that after the last war his father had fought in, had come up lost. The empty space was mirrored in Leith’s soul; the space his father should have in his life was empty.

  Turning away, he was able to smile though. Mary was doing well and as long as she continued this way, all would be well.

  * * *

  “Dratted boy needs to heed to me warning,” Nicolas huffed under his breath as he approached the low-roofed barracks. “Nae everything is a bed of roses like he kens it is. Danger lurks at every turn. The sooner he understands this, the better he will be.”

  A dozen men were there sitting on stools as they didn’t dare sit on their perfectly made cots until it was time to retire. The men were dead tired, they had to be after five full days of tracking almost invisible traces of thieves and making sure the Tremont’s cattle were unharmed in the fight.

  On the tables were cups of drink and trenchers of nourishing lamb stew that they were in the middle of eating. The wooden floor was spotless and so were the walls. Nicolas knew how hard it was for a troop of men to live under one roof and not have the place look like a pig’s sty as two decades-and-half ago, he had been one of them.

  Though he was not the captain nor the commander, he had w
orked like a slave to get these men past their reckless stages into men of valor and the principles that came with being so.

  “Men!” he called up and they scrambled to their feet. “Report, how did the campaign with the Tremont’s end?”

  “The reivers were caught, Sir,” a man said. “Samuel stayed behind with the other men to make sure they retrieved all that they could and deliver justice to the thieves.”

  “And who was harmed?” Nicolas asked.

  A look passed between some of the men but the first shook his head. “Nay one was wounded grievously, Sir. Aye, we suffered a few bumps and bruises and other wounds but nay one is that wounded.”

  Looking over the men, all clad in the clan’s colors of dark green and deep purple, he nodded, “All right, I’ll let ye go back to yer meals and have an easy day tomorrow.”

  With a final nod, he turned but almost mowed down a page boy who jumped out of his way. “Boy?” he glowered. “What are ye doing here?”

  The poor youth was trembling in his shoes but he held out a note to him. “I was told to give ye this, Me Lord.”

  With knitted brow, he took the note and waved the boy away. He unfolded it to read. This woman in the castle might be a danger to us, see what ye can find to remove her.

  Clenching the unsigned note in his fist, he huffed, “At least someone has sense.”

  13

  Hushed whispers woke her but Mary pretended to not hear them, nor did she react.

  “…where do ye ken she came from?”

  “I cannae guess but she looks too fair to be one of ours…unless she’s royalty,” another said.

  “Royalty in a tattered dress and a threadbare cloak, I hardly ken so,” a third snorted.

  “How would ye—”

  “Dinnae ye three have more duties to attend to more than gossiping over the poor lass?” Rinalda’s firm tone cut in. “As I remember, ye should be wiping the windows and replacing the rushes. Leave the lass alone.”

  Still, Mary did not move and secretly she began to wonder where this hidden talent had come from. Surely, she had not perfected it as a child. She felt the cot dip as someone sat on the edge, “It’s clear, lass, ye can open yer eyes.”

  Or, perhaps her pretending was not as perfect as she had believed. She opened her eyes to see Rinalda looking down at her with amused compassion. “Ye dinnea have to hide from them. They’re more curious than anything else. How are ye feeling? Any pain?”

  Mary shook her head and sat up while rubbing lingering sleep from her eyes. Her hand went through her hair, feeling the thickness and the grime that coated almost every strand. Grimacing she rubbed her face too and gave Rinalda a pleading look. She did not know how to sign and ask for a bath.

  She began to run her hands over her arms and Rinalda asked, “Are ye cold? I can close the window if—”

  Mary shook her head and began a movement of washing her face with her hands. A light went off in the woman’s eyes. “Ye want a bath?”

  Relieved, she nodded. Rinalda looked contemplative, “I’ll see what I can do but only if yer sure ye can handle a bath. No more fainting on me, y’hear? I need to get ye something to eat first.”

  Amused, Mary nodded while Rinalda walked off. The bed was flush on a wall and she pressed her back on the wall. It was cold but it did not matter to her. The nearby window did not give her a vista but rather a row of buildings and the wide, square tall, dark mass of a keep.

  A pennant was flying from a pole with deep blue and grey colors. A gold eagle with a blazing blue eye was stitched in the middle and words, written in Latin, were stitched under it. The pennant was flitting in the wind, but she eventually got to read: virtutem et fortitudinem

  Valor and strength…

  “Lass,” Rinalda’s voice drew her attention back from the flag. “Here, this is tea, bread and butter, a fig tart and some fruit. I ken these would be much easy on yer stomach.”

  Smiling in thankfulness, Mary took the tray and sipped the tea first. She then ate the sweet fig tart and was buttering her bread when Rinalda asked. “Have ye ever learned to sign?”

  Sign? As in to communicate with other people? That must be it. Mary shook her head.

  “There a few deaf children here in the clan, mostly servant children and they were taught the home signs. If ye want I can teach ye a few,” Rinalda offered.

  Nodding, Mary set the last part of her meal away and looked expectantly at Rinalda who shook her head. “Finish yer meal first.”

  She ate quickly and brushed her hands off. Rinalda then smiled and held up her hands. Her left palm was turned flat and the index of her right hand was pointing to it. “This means I want food. Try it.”

  Following her, Mary committed the sign to memory and then learned the rest for need help and thank you. She learned how to ask for directions to the great hall, keep and servants’ quarters. She was shown how to tell people how she was, happy, tired, sad and feeling well. She was perfecting how to ask for medicine when Leith came in…but from behind her.

  She nearly yelped when his hand rested on her shoulder but did skitter away with fright painted on her face. Leith’s hands were up in regret, “Sorry, I apologize.”

  “Sir!” Rinalda scolded. “For shame! I kent ye were going to talk to her but nae touch her!”

  Mary was pressing her hand to her heaving breast, trying to calm her racing heart. Leith drew up a seat near her and sat. He was dressed in breeches, boots and thin vest that showed his muscled arms. His grey eyes were soft and penitent, “I’m sorry lass. I swear I willnae do it again. Do ye accept me apology?”

  Looking at Rinalda who was actually glaring at the man, Mary bit back her laugh and then nodded to Leith. He asked, “How are ye feeling?”

  She signed feeling well to him and his brows darted up. “Feeling well, eh. That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. Do ye have a name lass? Do ye remembered it?”

  Scrunching her eyes tight as one who was laboring to remember something, Mary nodded slowly—hesitantly—as if she was not sure. She made the sign of a cross over her breast, then made the sign of rocking a baby. It took Leith a while to understand then grinned. “The Christ…rocking, Mary? As in the mother of Jesus, that Mary? That’s yer name?”

  She nodded with a brilliant smile.

  “I cannea ken of a better name for ye,” Leith said, “Lass, Rinalda told me that ye dinnae remember much about anything. If ye have naywhere to go, I’m happy to give ye a station here if ye want. We always need people in the kitchen, and ye can stay in the servant’s quarters. Is that what ye’d like?”

  Again, Mary looked to Rinalda who gave her an assuring look, “I’ll help ye for the next few days until ye get a hold of it.”

  Mary looked around then back to him, nodded and signed thank you. He stood and faced Rinalda, “Take her to the servants’ quarters, find her a bed and get her used to the quarters. She starts tomorrow, nae a moment earlier, ye understand?”

  “Aye,” Rinalda said.

  “I’ll see ye in the morning then,” Leith said standing.

  As he left, Mary trailed her eyes after him. She wished he could look at her with the same fire his orbs had held when he’d kissed her, but she understood that he could not, not yet. They had to stay as strangers for a while until all was clear, but even then, she didn’t know if they could reconnect the way they had all through the journey here.

  The hairs on the back of her head rose and she turned to see Rinalda staring at her with an inquisitive look. Suddenly, Mary was afraid. Had she seen something she wasn’t supposed to? Had she given herself away? She braced herself to answer questions but Rinalda’s soon cleared and she stood and brushed her dress off. “Are ye ready?”

  Standing up too, Mary took her empty tray and followed Rinalda down a hall and through a wide front room to another part of the infirmary. This room was smaller but had three wooden tubs—one of them filled with steaming water—and tiny windows up above.

  “We use this room to giv
e healing soaks to our injured soldiers but ye can bathe here. The water is filled with the essence of rosemary and valerian root. It will ease yer tense muscles.”

  Slowly, she handed the sack over to Rinalda then looked over her shoulder to the door but it was closed. She disrobed and went to the warm tub. A moan of pure pleasure slipped from Mary’s lips as she lowered herself into the warm water.

  It was only when she sank in, she felt her body crying out in agony even as the fragrant hot water felt like ecstasy. She had not realized the grueling trip had left her exhausted, and she was now acutely aware of muscles she never knew existed.

  “I’ll leave you to bathe,” Rinalda giggled while handing her a rag and a sliver of soap. “Here are a towel and a dress. It’s an old one of mine. I’ll be outside.”