by Fiona Faris
“I didn’t know if you would truly get my letters. My travels were fine, it was nice to see more of our world, but nothing is better than being here with you now and seeing you so well.” The relief she’d felt knowing Ella was safe, and the man their father sold her to was dead had made her sloppy in her correspondence. Yet, she wasn’t ready to confess she had been in Scotland the whole time. Instead, she used descriptions of far-away places she had found in a book to create a ruse that she had been traveling before finally coming to see Ella for herself. She had hoped to have proof, definitive proof, but her time in Scotland so far had come to nothing. She only had one lead left, and she needed an introduction from her sister’s husband, Lucas MacGille, Laird of Cadney, to achieve it. She wasn’t ready yet to ask, and she did miss Ella so very much. For now, she would simply bide her time and enjoy her sister’s company. Mayhap after the babe was born and Ella was healed, they could speak of what Amelia knew.
“Well, I am so happy to have you here, as well. And just wait until tonight’s feast. Lucas’ brother, Gavin, sister Milly and her husband, Nathan, laird of our neighboring clan Mackenzie, will be here as well to meet you and celebrate. It will be the most wonderful time. I know you will adore Milly as I do.”
“I look forward to it. Meanwhile, you should rest, Ella. You look tired.” Amelia couldn’t help but see the dark circles around her sister’s eyes.
“It’s the babe, I know she will be here soon. I can feel it in my bones.”
“She?”
“Aye, this one will be a girl. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel it. She is carrying different, and I have been sicker with her than with the boys.”
Amelia smiled. “Then, all the more reason for you to rest. I will leave you and walk along the bailey. The men are practicing, and I do so enjoy watching the highlanders maneuver.” She gave her sister a sly wink.
“Maybe, little sister, it is time for you to think about settling down and getting with a bairn or two of your own.” Amelia couldn’t help but smile at her proper English sister’s easy adoption of certain Scottish words, like bairn. But she would not be swayed. When she thought of her future, she always saw the face of one man. A foolish notion and no matter how hard she tried to forget her mind would not allow her to banish his image. A prisoner from long ago who had risked everything to save her life. It had happened so fast, and he was beaten for it. She never knew his name, and he was most likely dead now, left to rot at the end of a hangman’s noose. Just the same, his emerald green eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life.
“I’m not sure I have the temperament or the mind to be such a good mother or wife. For now, I will leave that duty up to you, sister.”
“Aye, for now then. But you’ll see, Amy, one day, when you least expect it, the man of your dreams will come, and you too will be swept away.”
Amelia smiled. If only, she thought. If only.
Chapter Two
Nothing put Gavin in a better mood than coming over the rise of boulders that separated MacKenzie land from MacGille land. The shimmering blue of Loch Cadney played off the waning autumn light. He was home. When Milly told him there was to be a feast to honor Ella’s newly come sister, he had jumped at the chance to head home. For the last year, he had been traveling abroad, chasing a bounty for the magistrate in Edinburgh, and he was ready for a spell of relaxation.
The only reason he’d stopped at MacKenzie Keep first was to see his sister’s new bairn. He loved being an uncle and spoiling his nephews, and now niece was the best part of his travels. Of course, this new babe was only a year old, but she was still able to be spoiled. He had a special toy fish made in Ullapool the last he was there. It rattled and made noise that the young lass seemed to adore.
Coming up on the MacGille Keep, Gavin was filled with lightness. He knew he would have to leave again soon, but he relished his time home.
“What dae ye ken of this sister of our Ella’s?” Milly asked as they came over the last hilly rise.
“Nothin’ more than ye, I suppose. After th’ father died, Ella said she went traveling, France mayhap? But do we MacGilles need a reason for a clan feast?” He pinched his sister’s full cheek much like he had in their youth. Not only was Milly his twin, but she’d also been the only one who had trusted that Gavin had survived the battle of Dunkeld some four years back, and she’d never stopped looking for him. He loved her fiercely and owed her his life.
“Aye, ’tis all I ken as well, but if she be anything like Ella, we will love her just the same, I suppose.” Gavin smiled at his sister’s kind heart. He never wanted the war and pain he had suffered to touch her. He knew she’d moved heaven and earth to save him, and he would repay her by never allowing her to see the demons that still haunted his every waking moment.
“I suppose then, Milly, ye are right.” He kicked his horse’s flanks to gain speed, the last meadow before the gates to the castle was his favorite ride. The wind always seemed at his back and the air crisp.
“Gavin, wait…” he heard Milly on the wind, but he knew she wouldn’t follow him. She hadn’t told anyone yet, but she was again with child. A twin knows these things about his sister, and she wouldn’t risk the health of the babe or her husband, Nathan’s worry over a frivolous horse ride.
* * *
The festive mood of the keep was contagious. Gavin looked around the great hall. Tapestries woven in the greens, blues, reds, and golds of his family’s plaid hung above the great hearths on either side of the hall. The candles had all been lit, giving off a bright, warm light that illuminated the faces of his friends and loved ones.
Plates filled with a wide assortment of meats, pies, and puddings graced every hand he saw. The great hall at Cadney was different from other clan meeting halls of the great Highland families. There was no elevated table where the laird and family sat, looking down upon their people as if royalty. Instead, Lucas, as laird, their father, and their father’s father before him had chosen to eat level with and among the rest of the clan.
Gavin’s head started to spin. He welcomed the laughing and general cheer of his clan, but as a man who spent most of his time alone, it was also a touch overwhelming. He moved along the perimeter of the wall, keeping his hand on the firm, cool stone. He knew that in a few moments, the spinning would cease, and he would back to himself. He just needed to remember to keep his breathing even.
Movement in a darkened corner caught his eye — a flash of golden hair, the gentle glide of a blue skirt quickly rounding a corner. Gavin had dreamed about hair that precise shade of sun-kissed for four long years. He knew what he saw couldn’t be real, yet he was still drawn to follow, quickly leaving the great hall in pursuit of the apparition, for that was the only explanation.
“It cannae be,” he whispered to himself as the ghost paused in front of a portrait of him and his brother as youths. She looked up, and Gavin caught her in delicate profile. It indeed was she — the woman from Perth. The woman who he’d risked everything to save, and who had tried to save him in return. The spinning returned as Gavin quickly approached the woman. Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he yanked her against him. She let out a quick breath and looked up at him with the same ice blue stare that he saw whenever he needed to ground himself. She had been his angel, his solace, and he hadn’t known her name, or that she ever existed in the first place. Many nights in that damn prison he had convinced himself he’d dreamed her up to stay sane. A sheen of sweat beaded against his brow. His heart raced. She was here, alive, in the flesh, in his home.
“Amelia…” her name left his lips in a rush of hot air. “How th’ devil is it possible?”
“It’s you,” she whispered.
“’ Tis I, an’ ’tis also ye, but how? I didnae think ye were real?” She reached up and touched his face, running her finger along the scar that started above his left eye and traveled down his cheek. The scar from an Englishman’s boot on the day he’d last seen her. He closed his eyes and leaned into he
r touch. She was the calm against the storm that raged inside him.
“You’re alive, and here of all places.” It seemed neither of them could speak in full sentences. It was as if all time stopped. Gavin took a lock of her hair in his hand and twirled it, threading it through each finger, lifting it and watching in awe as the soft tendrils fell to her bare, pale shoulders.
“For nigh on four years, I dreamed of ye, lass. Of yer hair, yer eyes, of what I would say tae ye if I ever lucked intae seeing ye again. Now yer in front of me, an’ I’m at a loss, except tae say it’s ye.”
“I thought for sure the guards would’ve killed you.” She tried to look away, but Gavin placed his free hand on her chin, forcing her to look at him. He saw the pain in her eyes.
“They tried, lass, but it seems I’m a hard bastard tae kill.” He smiled, lowering his voice.
“I tried to find you, but they wouldn’t allow me to follow, and I didn’t know your name.”
“Aye, my name…” he began when they both turned to see Ella rushing toward them.
“Amy, there you are,” she said breathlessly. Gavin quickly moved back a step and let go of Amelia’s wrist; the moment between them broken with the intrusion of his sister-in-law. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She glanced at Gavin and cocked an eyebrow.
Amy, he thought. He had heard that name before. Milly had told him the name of Ella’s sister. That meant Amelia — his Amelia, was — shite. He looked back and forth between the two women. The resemblance was there, he saw it clearly now.
“Actually, Gavin, I’ve been looking for you as well. I wanted to introduce you to my sister, Amelia Pearson, but affectionately known to family and me as Amy.”
Sister? It would’ve only taken the weight of a feather to knock Gavin on his arse.
Chapter Three
“Gavin MacGille, at yer service, lass.” He gave her a courtly bow, his green eyes glinting in the candlelight.
Amelia’s brave Highlander was actually in front of her, in the flesh! Before her sister appeared, she was almost certain he was going to kiss her, and she surprised herself at how desperate she was to feel his lips on her own.
He was here, in Cadney, his home, speaking and bowing as if this was an everyday, formal introduction that was commonplace. He seemed to recover quickly from the shock of seeing her and learning she was Ella’s sister, but she was not as lucky. She was reeling, he was a MacGille, as in her sister’s husband’s brother? It was impossible.
Ella looked at Amelia with a curious gaze. Even though they had been apart for so long, her sister could still easily recognize when something was amiss with Amelia. And staring at the man who had haunted her dreams since that fateful day in Perth was definitely amiss. She fought against the wave of nausea that overcame her.
“It’s a pleasure, sir.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she worked to regain herself. She was transfixed by his emerald eyes; they were the deep green of a grassy meadow after a fresh rain, yet still held warning in their heat filled gaze.
Tanned skin elegantly covered flawlessly honed cheekbones — the only imperfection Gavin’s face held was the scar that marred his perfect face. His scar. Just moments ago, she had run her hand along its groove, feeling her way to redemption; not entirely believing he was real. But he was — the scar and the injury that caused it was entirely her fault.
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything. How happy I am that you two had chanced a meeting. What was it that you were discussing so intently away from the rest of us?” Ella’s pointed question managed to break the remainder of any spell between them.
“Not at all!”
“Nay.” They spoke at the same time, and Amelia thought a little too suddenly for Ella to believe them.
“The lass and I were discussing th’ history of Cadney, and how our ancestors had limited resources, an’ had tae bring the stone up with their bare hands.” Amelia looked at Gavin, and he gave her a sly wink. A flush of heat went through her.
“Ahh, yes,” Ella replied. “Cadney has a wonderful history. I didn’t realize you would be so interested in it, Amy?”
“Oh, Ella, it’s truly fascinating. My travels have given me a great appreciation for history in all its forms.”
“Well, almost four years around England and France will do that to a lady, I suppose. However, we should be getting back to the feast. Lucas will worry,” Ella said, patting her growing belly. Amelia gave Gavin a quick glance; she could see question and mirth fighting each other in his gaze. Of course, he knew nothing about her so he couldn’t possibly know she was lying, but he knew enough to know she was in Scotland four years ago, not traipsing through France. She prayed he would remain silent, at least until she could get him alone again to explain.
* * *
The feast was a glorious affair, and despite her misgivings, she couldn’t help but enjoy herself, all the while unable to stop herself from seeking out Gavin wherever he roamed through the great hall. She was interested in getting him alone, but he was constantly in the company of either his brother, Lucas, or his brother-in-law, Nathan MacKenzie, who Amelia learned had only married their sister, Milly, a little over a year ago, and was incredibly smitten with his wife.
The way he fawned over Milly sent a warm, electric feeling through Amelia, and she had to admit to herself she longed to be treated thus. In England, it would be almost inappropriate for a man of such high rank to be seen in public fondling and constantly touching his wife, yet Amelia was surprised to see these highland men seemed to care not for stodgy English traditions. They had no problem letting the world at large know they were attracted to their mates and would dote on them.
She wondered if Gavin had a woman. She couldn’t imagine he didn’t, and something told her should he wed he would show his wife the same deference and affection as the other men. Her cheeks reddened at the thought of it being her. Silly girl, she thought. She had no claim on the Highlander. Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t noticed the group had made its way across the hall toward her.
“I find ye much different than yer sister.” Amelia turned to see the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on, who happened to share the same green eyes she found so intoxicating in Gavin and long red hair, also much like his.
“You must be Milly,” she replied. “I’ve heard many good things about you.” She gave the woman a slight curtsy. She wasn’t sure of the proper greeting for a lady married to a laird, but a curtsy should suffice. She was shocked when the woman laughed and drew her into a tight embrace.
“Nay, dinnae bow tae th’ likes of me. We’re family. Yer quite bonny, Ella dinnae say her sister was as beautiful as she.”
Amelia blushed again. “Ella said I would like you, and she was right.” The women laughed.
“Dinnae mind my wife, she is overly friendly,” the woman’s tall, dark husband came over, wrapping his arms around Milly’s waist.
“I don’t mind in the least, my laird,” she replied, and it was true. She loved the exuberance of Ella’s new family. It warmed her heart. If only Amelia had brought with her good news for the completion of their own little family, imagine how much more joy the room would handle. Weariness came over her, and she felt a sudden need to leave the loud festivities.
“Please, pray excuse me. I seem to need a touch of fresh air.”
* * *
Gavin watched as Amelia made her excuses with Nathan and Milly and left the main hall, headed for outside. His eyes were drawn to Amelia the whole evening, unable to focus on anything else. What twisted fate would bring her here? Why did Ella think she had been in England and France when Gavin knew for certain she had been in Scotland? Why could he not keep his body from responding to the lass even from across the room?
“Brother, what has ye so distracted?” Lucas was always watching, much like Gavin.
“Nay, Lucas. ’Tis nothing.”
“Does this nothing, as ye say, happen have golden hair and call my wife sister?
” he nodded in the direction where Amelia had just been standing. Most of the time, Gavin appreciated his older brother’s keen eye, but in this instance, he wished the laird could keep his thoughts to himself.
Gavin moved to follow her out of the keep, barely hearing Lucas’ warning behind him. “She’s not a lass tae be trifled with, brother.”
He kept his distance. Lucas had no idea what the mere presence of the lass was doing to him. He wanted to trust her, she had been the anchor of his tortured mind for so long, but his years in battle and prison taught him to trust no one at first glance. His instincts are what kept him alive, and right now, his instincts were telling him to find out more.