Captivating the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

  “No, you cannot do that!” she exclaimed. The prosperity between the clans would not be jeopardized because of her. No, that was not an option. This was wrong.

  Fionnghall stopped kissing her reluctantly. He put his hands on Marion shoulders, preventing her from moving. His face was close to Marion’s and his presence still overwhelming her and suppressing her ability to think clearly.

  “Marion, I am the Laird, aren’t I? I cannot marry Lady Beitris when me heart is someone else’s,” he said and kissed Marion’s lips.

  “But what about the prosperity and peace between the clans?” Marion said and looked into his eyes, hoping to see a glimmer of hope and a reasonable resolution in them. She couldn’t find what she was looking for.

  “Marion, everythin’ will be all right,” he said with a surprisingly calm and reassuring voice. “Dae ye nae trust me?”

  He kissed her again on her lips, not giving her a chance to even think about and answer his question. She trusted him, but not herself.

  For now, it was enough for her and she wasn’t trying to fight against him anymore. For a moment, her heart filled with happiness and it spread all over her body.. She could feel the heat in her toes and fingertips as her heart raced faster and faster.

  Marion returned to her bedroom through the quiet castle, shaking and trembling. She felt that familiar weight of guilt on her chest again, but this time it wasn’t because of her parents. This time, it was because Fionnghall was ready to put his people’s well-being at risk. A promise between parents about marriage was unbreakable and Marion didn’t even know what would happen if he went back on his word.

  He had said he would break his engagement with Lady Beitris. Marion didn’t know if he actually meant it, or if it was something he said in the moment. Regardless of the reason, it was not right and Marion could not allow him to do it.

  Oh, I am so, so selfish!

  She hurried through the upstairs corridor.

  She opened her bedroom door quietly and pressed it shut behind herself quietly and let out a relieved exhale.

  “Marion! What happened?” she suddenly heard Deirdre’s voice from the corner of her room. It made her jump and gasp audibly.

  “Deirdre! What are you doing here?” Marion said, squinting her eyes and trying to see Deirdre’s dark silhouette in the dark. “You almost scared me to death,” she continued.

  Deirdre stepped closer from the dark and lit a lonely candle that was standing on the shelf above the fireplace.

  “Well…” she said, looking a bit guilty. “Please, daenae be mad. I may have overheard me brother talkin’ to ye when ye were playin’,” she said. “And, of course, I wanted to ask ye what happened and what ye talked about!”

  “How is that possible? You were standing far away from us,” Marion said, trying to calm her racing heart.

  She sat on her bed and grabbed a brush. Deirdre took it from her hands and started brushing down Marion’s long hair. It was in knots and tangles after Fionnghall’s hands had been all over it. Marion hoped her expression wouldn’t give away too much.

  “Nae far enough!” Deirdre said slyly.

  They both fell silent for a while. Deirdre into an impatient, expectant silence. Marion into a thoughtful, contemplating silence. Deirdre’s brushing motions were getting faster and Marion could tell she was dying to hear everything. But Marion wasn’t quite sure about how much she should reveal. If anything at all.

  “Well?” Deirdre finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Deirdre, you have to promise to not breathe a word about this to anyone,” Marion finally pleaded, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to shake Deirdre until she had given her some kind of seeds of information.

  “I promise, I promise!” she said enthusiastically and dropped the brush, sitting herself next to Marion on the edge of the bed.

  “We… I… He kissed me,” Marion stuttered, feeling herself blush. Suddenly she was grateful that the room was dim and Deirdre couldn’t see the redness of her cheeks.

  Deirdre let out a squeak that was so loud Marion was afraid it woke up the entire castle. She caught herself and covered her mouth.

  “I am so happy fer ye!” she finally whispered and her smile was truly genuine and excited. “We are goin’ to be sisters!”

  Marion shook her head slowly.

  “Does nobody remember Lady Beitris? Your brother must marry her, and this must never happen again,” Marion whispered.

  “Hush!” Deirdre commanded, taking Marion’s hand. “Me brother will figure out the details,” she said, almost convincingly.

  This promise, nor Fionnghall’s, eased Marion’s guilt one inch. No matter how much she wanted to believe them to be true, she could not be the reason for Fionnghall to break his promise to the Brun family.

  “No, Deirdre, don’t you see? I want it to be true as much as you do, but a promise between families cannot be broken. Not even by the Laird,” Marion said. “This can never happen again.”

  Deirdre’s smile slowly melted away and she looked thoughtful for a moment.

  “Does he love ye?” she finally asked, her enthusiasm diluted.

  Marion nodded. “He says he does.”

  “And dae ye love him?” she persisted.

  Marion felt herself blushing again and she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before nodding.

  “Ah, I would make a more perfect matchmaker than Cupid himself,” Deirdre said excitedly. “I knew ye were perfect fer each other the second I saw ye,” she said and picked up the brush again and started brushing Marion’s long hair.

  “Yes, indeed. Though I would dare say that Cupid would make sure that the other party isn’t engaged before making the match,” Marion responded somewhat sarcastically.

  “Details,” she said cheerfully.

  Marion wanted to change the subject. Talking about the situation that only kept leading her to the same dead end, made her frustrated.

  “How is your love-life? Has the Cupid of Gille Chriost managed to find a beau of her own?” Marion asked.

  Deirdre let out a little laugh.

  “As a matter of fact, aye,” she said.

  “Hopefully someone who is not engaged,” Marion said with a sarcastic edge. Deirdre pulled her hair gently, letting her know that the joke was well-received.

  “Remember me dance partner after the wedding? He is a very suitable gentleman, indeed. He wrote to me already, a few days later. But he is goin’ to travel to Ireland fer a month or two and we will nae meet until after his return,” Deirdre said all this with slightly disappointed voice.

  “But you will surely meet after he has returned and you can get better acquainted,” Marion responded encouragingly.

  “Aye. If he doesnae find a nice Irish lass before then,” she said and sighed.

  “There is no way he would find anyone better than you. That is simply impossible. And if he backs out, it is only his loss,” Marion said and smiled at Deirdre, whose face lit up a little bit.

  “Why does love have to be so complicated?” she asked. Marion did not know how to respond.

  She drew her arms around Marion and hugged her tightly. Neither of them said a word for a long time.

  After Marion left, Fionnghall stayed in the library. He looked at the books that had fallen onto the floor after their passionate moment. He picked them up absentmindedly, erasing the evidence so no one would have a reason to ask any questions. The servants were surprisingly perceptive.

  He never thought he would feel about anyone like he felt about Marion. He loved her good and gentle heart more than anyone. He had never wanted to marry Lady Beitris anyway, and now this promise his parents had made was weighing him down.

  Getting out of this promise would be difficult and falling back on his word wouldn’t be viewed well on Laird Brun’s part. But how was he supposed to marry Lady Beitris when he loved someone else? Wasn’t a deception as such worse than backing out on a promise made by someone else a long time ago?

>   He slid the last book back into the bookshelf. It was starting to get late and he should have headed back into his chambers, but he couldn’t make his feet move.

  Facing Laird Brun the next day wouldn’t be a pleasant encounter. He had to consider the well-being and prosperity of his people, which is why he had gone along with the marriage arrangement for so long. But he had never seen someone like Marion stepping into the picture, scrambling his life into a mess.

  Sending Marion away would not be an option. Not anymore. He had gotten to know her and had fallen in love with her. There was no way he would be able to keep living his life without her in it. It would be like living someone else’s life, with his mind always with Marion.

  That couldn’t be right for his people, either. Backing out on his word would be well worth it, if it meant that he could be true to himself and to Marion. The people would understand. It wasn’t like Marion wouldn’t make a good Lady of the castle. The people of Gille Chriost had already met Marion many times when she was out asking about her parents. They loved her. Everyone did.

  Most of all, Deirdre loved Marion like her own sister. They had become very close and it hadn’t been left unnoticed by anyone, not the people or Fionnghall himself. Lady Beitris looked like a barn mouse next to Marion.

  He sighed deeply and left the library. Maybe tomorrow things would seem better. They usually did in the mornings.

  16

  Broken

  Fionnghall sat at the breakfast table with Deirdre and the Brun family. Marion hadn’t come in together with Deirdre like they normally did. Instead, Deirdre had walked in alone, slowly and abnormally quiet. She had greeted Fionnghall and the Bruns, but not said much after that.

  “Where is Lady Marion this mornin’?” he asked Deirdre so quietly that the Brun’s, who were deep into their own conversation, couldn’t hear.

  “She wasnae hungry,” Deirdre replied shortly, not looking up from her plate.

  “Is she all right? Should we send some food up fer her?” he pressured.

  “She’s fine, I will take some food fer her meself after breakfast,” Deirdre responded, shooting a barely noticeable glance at Lady Beitris.

  “So, Laird Gille Chriost, tell me,” Laird Brun said, interrupting the conversation. “Where is Lady Marion today? Is she nae joinin’ us? She is still in Gille Chriost, I presume?”

  Fionnghall had a hard time replying politely. Deirdre’s look had told a bunch without words. Clearly, Marion felt uncomfortable coming downstairs to dine with the Brun family. And she was the one who should be the least embarrassed or uncomfortable.

  “She prefers to eat in her chambers this mornin’” he said shortly.

  “She is well, I hope?” asked Lady Brun. Fionnghall had always liked Lady Brun better than the Laird, who often came off too pushy for Fionnghall’s liking. Lady Brun was a small woman with kind eyes. She had an elegance and softness in her that her daughter clearly had not inherited.

  Fionnghall nodded. “Thank ye fer askin’, she is well.”

  “Has she made any progress in findin’ her parents?” Lady Beitris asked.

  Fionnghall shortly described her recent trip to Ridgemoore and noted that she was going to stay at Gille Chriost longer.

  “That is such a shame,” Lady Beitris responded, not sounding completely genuine. “I sure hope she will find them soon. I am certain she will want to return home to England as soon as possible,” she continued.

  Lady Beitris smiled at Fionnghall, and despite the lovely smile she had, to his pleasure, it did not waver his decision one bit. Lady Beitris might be beautiful, gorgeous like a painted picture, but her cold demeanor was repellant.

  “I am very excited about the wedding and lookin’ forward to completin’ the planning. In fact, I have already made some notes and me and me mother will be takin’ a tour of the castle later and writing up details. It will be the most beautiful and extravagant wedding this county has ever seen!” she said, changing the subject and her emerald green eyes glimmered in the morning light.

  It was hard to say what Lady Beitris was actually excited about. Was it the wedding or the title that followed? She had never once showed any signs of affection towards Fionnghall, so he was sure it wasn’t because of him.

  Fionnghall understood that for a young woman like Lady Beitris, getting married was one of the biggest milestones in her life. In fact, getting married was something that every woman was looking forward to. It was no wonder that she was excited about planning the wedding. If Fionnghall had cared about her at all, he would have been offended about the fact that she showed absolutely no interest in getting to know him.

  “Beitris, darlin’, slow down, will ye? This is Laird Gille Chriost’s castle, ye cannae make such decisions without askin’ him first,” Lady Brun said softly, touching her daughter’s hand calmingly.

  Lady Beitris twitched impatiently on her seat with a dissatisfied look on her face. Then she smiled her angelic smile at Fionnghall.

  “Laird Gille Chriost will nae mind, will ye? I am certain ye want our wedding to be luxurious as well,” she demanded more than asked.

  “Of course, Lady Beitris. I am sure ye will make great plans with Lady Brun,” he accompanied her, not giving in to his desire to say the complete opposite. After all, the wedding would never take place—not his and Lady Beitris’ wedding, anyway.

  This thought calmed him down and knowing he wouldn’t actually have to endure Lady Beitris as his wife made her suggestions bearable. He only needed to break the engagement and he would be free to do as he pleased. And best of all, he would get the unwanted family out of his hair.

  Deirdre looked at Fionnghall with a strange expression on her face, but didn’t say anything.

  “Laird Brun, I believe there are some things we should discuss. Will ye join me fer a game of cards tonight?” Fionnghall asked. He had made the decision, it was time to talk with the Laird about the arrangement.

  “Ah, I wish I had nae already committed meself elsewhere,” he exclaimed, forgetting the subject at hand. “How about we catch up tomorrow mornin’ and we go huntin’?”

  “That would be me pleasure,” Fionnghall said, hoping it didn’t sound too bitter.

  That would push out the chance for him to talk to Laird Brun. It wasn’t what he had hoped for. At least he would have another day to come up with a solution that would help them both part ways peacefully, keeping the prosperity and the peace between the clans.

  Fionnghall didn’t wish anything bad to follow the breaking of the marriage arrangement. Instead, he wanted to talk with Laird Brun who would hopefully understand his point of view and they could come to an agreement. Though the hope of that was slim, it was the only hope he had.

  Suddenly, Deirdre stood up and excused herself. She slipped through the back door of the dining room into the kitchen, Fionnghall guessed to get some food for Marion. Fionnghall decided he would go and look for Marion later and inform her about his final decision

  When Deirdre opened Marion’s door with a tray full of food, she was in the middle of putting more wood into the fireplace. Her stomach grumbled and despite her earlier notion that she wasn’t hungry, she was glad that Deirdre hadn’t listened to her.

  “I thought ye must be hungry. And judging from the sounds of yer stomach, I believe I was right,” she said victoriously.

  “Thank you,” Marion said and grabbed a piece of bread off the tray.

  Deirdre sat in a chair next to the fireplace and reached her hands out towards the fire. It was a bit chilly this morning.

  “Ye cannae hide in here forever,” she said quietly, looking at Marion with an expression that was both understanding and concerned.

  “I know. But for right now, I am afraid it is the best that I can do,” Marion replied. She hadn’t exactly thought about how to react to last night’s events and what to do or say to Fionnghall.

  Her only option was to leave. To leave Gille Chriost and to never come back.

  She
glanced at Deirdre who was still warming herself up by the fire. It would be hard to leave her. She had become her best friend. No one had ever stood by her the same way Deirdre had. Telling her goodbye would be impossible.

  As Marion scooped a spoonful of her porridge, she decided it was time for her to go. She would not stay at Gille Chriost and be the reason why Fionnghall would break their commitment.

  At least she would have a chance to go back home to England and make things right with her parents. Finding her real parents hadn’t brought any results, and for the first time, she wished she had listened to her father back in England. She wished she had never come here.