by Annis, Dawn
“My leavin’ was an elaborate ruse ye ken,” he cried in a rush.
Startled, Fiona’s head came up, and she stared at her son.
“I had thought to come back, but I shouted so verra many hurtful, terrible words to Da. I dinna leave the isle for a goodly amount o’ time. I pondered about sneakin’ home to talk with ye, for ye to tell me what to do. I wasna sure. Mayhap ye were upset with me as well. I dinna see how Da could forgive me, so I stayed awa’. If only he were here to advise me. His counsel . . . Ye tried to tell me, but I couldna hear.”
Tears filled Fiona’s eyes. “He is here, Callum. Ye ken what to do. Make it right.”
Lettie stepped into the hall. “Callum, forgive me. I eavesdropped on yer conversation.” She lowered her head, blushing.
“Nay, dinna concern yerself. If ye have a thought, share it.”
Lettie joined Callum and her mother. She sat next to Callum and placed her hand on his thigh.
“I dinna want ye to go awa’ agin. I want ye to be happy. I want Thea to be happy. I have had a thought on it.” Lettie scooted forward in her chair. “I take it ye canna list all o’ the lasses ye have . . .” Lettie stuttered.
“Aye, I am no proud o’ it, but aye.”
“Well, can ye write on a parchment somethin’ resemblin’ ‘to all the lasses I have hurt’ or ‘to all the lasses I have loved and those who have loved me’? Though none so outrageous as Lady Monforte’s letters. The point is to atone.”
“Ye canna believe Thea will forgive.”
“’Tis romantic,” his mother pondered.
Callum regarded each. He loved them, and amazement filled his heart they were so willing to help him win the woman he loved. He was a fortunate man.
“Aye, ’tis a grand idea.”
“There is more,” Lettie continued.
Callum raised a brow.
“Ye can write it down, whatever we decide, and read it to her.”
Callum stared a Lettie. He speculated on its success. It might work. He had a few ideas of his own he wouldn’t share with his sister just yet. He had some hurdles to jump to bring his plan together.
~ ~ ~
Thea did not want to talk about Callum. She wanted to escape the pain swelling in her chest. She sat in the quiet hall, her head down, hands in her lap, hoping it would all go away. Timothy hunkered beside her, his arm around her.
“What ye about, lass?”
Thea shook her head and remained silent.
Michael entered the hall, walked over and took a seat at the table.
“Lass, ye havena told us yer hurt. Ye must,” Timothy pleaded.
Without a sound, Thea stared at the top of the table. She ran her finger against the worn surface.
“I will no put up with this, Thea. Ye dinna have to go through yer grief alone. Speak,” Michael commanded.
“I love him. He asked for my hand, and I told him I will no marry him. All I care for is him, but I hurt so badly. I couldna stand the idea he had been with other women, and there she sat right in front o’ me. I couldna pretend any longer,” Thea blurted.
“’Tis fine and good, Thea, but where does that leave ye when he has no thought for yer feelin’s?”
Timothy put his hand up, stalling Michael’s surprising tirade. “’Tis no helpin’, Michael.”
“Aye, I ken it.” He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and bent on one knee. He wiped the tears from Thea’s face and gave the cloth to her.
Michael’s voice softened. “I have always told ye I wanted ye to marry for love. If Callum is the man ye want to marry, then I will no stop ye either with my words or actions. Ye love him, but I dinna want to see ye hurt. Here we sit, and ye are hurt. I havena the heart for it, lass.”
“He will no ask agin,” Thea mumbled.
“I can make sure he dinna,” Timothy asserted.
Thea raised her head and grasped his arm. “Nay, I want him and only him.”
“Regardless?” Michael demanded.
“Regardless. I love him.”
“I will fetch him.” Timothy stood.
“Nay, I am embarrassed. I wasna kind to him. He dinna want to see me. I have lost.”
“Do we trust the son o’ bitch with her?” Michael spat.
“The lass says she wants him.”
“Can she ken what she wants, or is she taken in by a libertine?”
Timothy stared at his brother. “’Tis a bit harsh. I dinna think he is such. We ken her. We trust her. He is our laird. Mayhap we need to trust him.”
“I am sittin’ at the same table as ye both. I am no blind or deaf.” Thea scowled at each brother in turn.
Lettie walked into the hall, surprising Michael and Timothy. She knelt beside Thea, took the handkerchief from her hand, dabbed her face, and told her to blow her nose. Shooing Thea’s brothers from the hall, she sat beside Thea and put her arm around her.
“Ye heart sore?”
“Aye.”
“Maw tossed the haughty bitch.”
“I ken. I talked to Lady Monforte on the docks. She told me terrible tales about Callum.”
“I can imagine.” Lettie glanced around the hall. The evening meal would begin soon.
“Come, sup with Maw and me at Dunvegan tonight. Callum will no be there. I believe ye could use a shoulder such as only Maw can give ye.”
“Ye tellin’ me true?”
“Aye, he has clan business at the MacCrimmons’.”
Lettie pulled on Thea’s arm. “Come with me, lass. We are goin’ to see Maw. She will give ye what ye need.”
The women headed toward the stable. Thea stopped by the water pump and wetted the ill-used handkerchief. She wiped her face while Lettie saddled Destiny.
When they arrived, Fiona gathered Thea in her arms and brushed her hair away from her face.
“Sweet lass.” Fiona held her at arm’s length. “Are ye hungry?”
Thea shook her head.
“Tea, then. Mayhap somethin’ a bit stronger.”
“Aye, Maw, the tilt o’ the bottle wouldna hurt,” Lettie agreed.
Fiona walked toward the kitchen.
“Thea, a bit o’ fresh air from the tower would do ye good.”
She looked askance at her friend. “We rode from Scorrybreac to here. I dinna desire fresh air.”
Lettie stood and ventured closer to the entrance.
“Lettie, we canna go up there,” Thea objected as she hurried next to Lettie. She glanced over her shoulder.
Lettie shrugged. “Why no? We snuck up when we were young.”
“Aye. And received a reddened arse each for our trouble.” Thea crossed her arms and thrust out her chin.
“We are grown now and can climb to the Faerie Tower as we please. Quit yer arguin’ and follow me,” Lettie ordered.
Thea began climbing the stone stairway, following Lettie.
“Why d’ye want to get atop the tower?”
“Och, I dinna ken. ’Tis time.”
Thea frowned at her friend’s odd answer. Lettie wasn’t making any sense. Thea scanned the darkness ahead. The wall was rough against her hand. Hesitant, she lifted herself onto the next tread and stepped down again. A slight chill lifted the hair on the back of her neck.
“I am goin’ down. We shouldna be here. ’Tis no a game.”
This was the Laird of MacLeod’s tower. All the clan’s men and women believed it to be sacred. The Faerie Flag was waved here in times of trouble. It wasn’t a place to be on a lark.
“Please dinna go.” Callum’s voice reached her from above.
Thea stared at Lettie.
She bussed her cheek and whispered, “Dinna doubt him.”
Lettie descended t
he stairway, leaving Thea with two options. Down and never knowing or up and facing her future.
Callum appeared from the edge of the stair with his hand reaching for her.
“I am verra happy to see ye.”
Thea allowed him to help her up the final stair. She turned slowly, looking at her surroundings. The night sky, filled with stars, took her breath away. A slight breeze rustled her skirts and played with her hair. She shivered. Candles lined the battlements, bringing light to the Faerie Tower. Thoughts ran through her head like the fluff on a dandelion, blowing every which way with no specific direction. She stood, facing away from Callum.
He gazed at her tenderly. “Thea,” he began. “I have made mistakes in my life. One o’ the mightiest was leavin’ my home, my clan, my family. I regret the failure more than ye will ever ken. I came home. I dinna care to and waited before I decided. I regret I dinna arrive in time to speak with my da.”
Grief caught in Callum’s voice. She wanted to go to him but stayed.
“I am happy here. ’Tis my home. I will no leave.” Callum took in a deep breath. “I love ye, Thea MacNichol.”
She heard a rustling of paper. Curiosity made her turn.
In his hand he held a parchment. Callum cleared his throat and read the written words aloud, “For every dalliance I have thrown awa’. For all the lassies I have lost. For all the lassies I have hurt. For all the lassies I never forgave. For all the lassies who have never forgiven me. I hope God hears my sorrow.”
Callum folded the page into triangles. He met Thea’s eyes. “I canna take back what has already occurred, but I will no let it define me. No longer will I be a prisoner o’ my own life. I love ye. If ye canna forgive me, then I will live with my heart broken.”
Callum raised a candle and lit the corner of the parchment. He held it in his hand while Thea watched it burn. She thought of those unnamed women. Women who deserved better, but she also heard Callum’s pain. She trusted in his loss. He had been hurt, too.
Thea saw the paper in his fingertips, his fingers red with the heat. She stepped over to him and put a hand on his arm.
“Let it go,” she said quietly in his ear. “Let it go.”
He dropped the fragments. The wind grabbed the last burning embers and carried them away until they turned to ash.
She stepped into his arms, and warmth flowed through her. She cradled his head against hers and said, “’Tis a braw thing ye have done, my love.”
Callum raised his head, and his mouth curved with tenderness. He ran a finger down her jaw and lowered his mouth to her lips. All his anguish, joy, and passion pulsed through her. She loved him. All they had been through erased the past.
~ ~ ~
Callum held Thea’s hand to his heart and took the risk of his life. “Thea, will ye marry me?”
Thea touched his cheek gently. “Aye.”
Callum grabbed her around the waist, lifting her high, thrilled by her laughter. He held her close to his body, slowly bringing her down once more. Kissing her, tasting the sweetness on her lips, before setting her feet on the stones.
Callum explored her face with his fingers. He swept his hands down her shoulders and arms. He took a hold of her hands and laughed. “I dinna want this night to end.”
“Nor I.”
Holding hands, they descended the stairs with quiet steps and made their way through the hall. His mother sat, rocking in a chair before the fire. She turned and gave them a ghost of a smile, then lowered her eyes to her knitting. Callum was grateful she had not spoken, allowing them to go without interruption.
Thea held the lantern while Callum saddled his mount. He set the light down, they climbed aboard, and rode through the fields. The wind across his face brought the smells of grass and sweet heather. They came to a familiar copse of trees, droplets of dew falling as he guided the horse through the branches. They opened to Ship Rock.
The moon shone against the rocks like silver running through them. Callum held Thea to him as she gasped at the sight. She dropped from the horse with Callum following. This was their place.
Callum grabbed two soft woolen blankets from behind his saddle and laid them out on the grass. Thea turned and took his arm in hers. The anticipation was almost unbearable. His ancient instinct urged to conquer. He bent his head and kissed her lips, thrusting his tongue to find hers. Breaking the kiss, he caressed her face with the back of his fingers, lifting her chin. She closed her eyes. He watched Thea’s face. The moonlight turned her skin pale. Her dark lashes fanned her cheeks.
Callum lowered himself onto the blanket, tugging Thea to join him. Blood thrummed through his body as he covered them both with one of the blankets. With a gentle touch, he traced each line, each contour of her body. She opened her eyes, and the smile in their depths contained a sensual glow. She pulled Callum closer.
She kissed his lips, his face, and nibbled along his jaw.
The woman he loved was here, in his arms. His heart beat with the love he’d found. His feeling of emptiness gone, Callum marveled at the woman before him. She was smart, courageous, and caring. Callum inhaled a savoring breath.
Slow, with purpose, he eased her shirt over her head. He ran the tip of his tongue from her belly to her breast. He blew softly along the trail, drying the flesh with his breath, and her skin pimpled. A small smile graced her lips. Callum kneaded her breast until she moaned. He suckled her nipple as she arched her back, pleading for more.
With a slow, measured pace, Thea removed his clothing. Callum’s pulse raced when his heated skin touched hers. Kissing her yielding lips, he tasted her sweet desire.
She ran her hands through his hair, tenderly tugging. “My love.”
“Ye are my heart, Thea.”
Pushing the hair from her face, he caught one of the silky strands and rubbed it between his fingers. “Ye are lovely.”
“I thank ye, my laird.”
“Soon, ye will be my lady.”
“I will always be yers, Callum.”
Callum ran his hand down her firm thigh and caught her knee. He brought it to his side.
She hooked her leg around his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his ear and licked the lobe.
He closed his eyes. Thea kissed each lid. He opened them to find her lovely eyes watching him, the gleam of desire reflected there.
Callum’s warrior blood pulsed. His hand slid down her silken belly until he found her sweet, slick folds. Thea gasped. Dropping his head, he groaned.
“Please, Callum, now,” Thea begged as she pulled him atop her.
He entered her slowly, feeling her body quickening around him. With each thrust, her rhythmic contractions surrounded him. Together they found an elegant harmony rising to a mutual climax. He gloried in her cry of pleasure, finding his release coursing through his body.
Catching their breath, Callum and Thea lay still, arms folded around one another, gazing at the stars.
“Are ye happy?”
“Hmhmn.” She smiled.
Callum’s feelings threatened to overwhelm him. He had a lovely woman in his arms who had agreed to be his wife.
“I love ye, Callum.”
Brushing her hair from her face, Callum looked into her eyes. Cupping her head, he rubbed her cheek with his thumb. He feasted his eyes on his love, his salvation. He found his peace.
“Ye are my fire. I burn for ye, Thea. Only for ye.”
Author’s Note
The Faerie Flag is a part of the MacLeod Clan culture. It resides in Dunvegan castle today. When clansmen were sent to join the World War II troops, they wore the Faerie Flag insignia on the arm of their uniforms for good luck. The true history of where the flag came from is unknown, though many historians have speculated.
The faerie tale the old wom
an tells in Highlander’s Choice is nothing more than my imagination of the many renditions regarding the Faerie Flag legend.
Also from Soul Mate Publishing and Dawn Annis:
HIGHLANDER’S RANSOM
Shane MacGregor, newly named laird of Clan MacGregor, is determined to prove himself. He has inherited a clan on the brink of ruin. Shane wants to see justice done against the hated Colquhouns, the cause of the MacGregor’s dispute with the king.
Lady Colquhoun’s marital problems are unexpectedly solved with her husband’s death. Her years of humiliation and loneliness are behind her. Her hopes and plans for the future are quickly destroyed when her husband’s brother stakes his claim against her inheritance. Her troubles continue to mount when she is kidnapped for ransom and retribution by the MacGregor clan! A ransom she knows will never be paid.
Faced with poverty and ruin, Shane feels he must marry another to further his goals for a strong and lasting clan. But he can’t seem to halt his developing feelings toward this enigmatic beauty.
Available on Amazon: HIGHLANDER’S RANSOM