Captivating the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

  If Marion had stayed in England, she would have been happily married, not knowing any better. She never would have hurt her parents and she never would have put Fionnghall in the predicament he was in right now.

  Everything would be like it was supposed to be. Maybe upon her return, she would be able to wipe away the pain and the hurt and everything would only seem like a dream. A good, hopeful, passionate, and wonderful dream.

  She wasn’t sure if Deirdre would understand her choice and decision to leave. If anyone was a believer of true love, it was her.

  Deirdre’s loud scoff woke Marion up from her thoughts.

  “I have never much cared fer Lady Beitris,” she said. “She is beautiful, sure, but nothin’ compared to ye,” she continued and Marion could see a little twinkle returning in her eyes.

  “But have you ever gotten to know her? She might be a wonderful person under the cool exterior. Maybe, when she is Lady Gille Chriost, she will surprise you,” Marion tried to defend her. It was a weak attempt and her heart felt heavy as a rock as she said those words, knowing she would never stand with Fionnghall here at the castle.

  Deirdre rolled her eyes and scoffed again. “I only wish there was something he could do. Something that would make it all right to break the promise of marriage without breaking the alliance. So he could dae it and still keep Laird Brun happy,” she said, mumbling. Marion wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to Marion.

  Marion shook her head. She knew better. Things were no different in England.

  “He must marry the daughter of Laird Brun, that is the agreement. You have to think about the people of Gille Chriost. The love between us does not matter. It is selfish,” Marion reminded her.

  After a brief moment, Deirdre seemed to cheer up.

  “Well, we have two months to find a loophole. We will find a way fer yer two to be together. It must be so. Ye are made fer each other,” she said.

  As Marion looked at her best friend’s enthusiasm, she knew she was going to miss her every day. She was always there for her, no matter how miserable a situation might seem. Even throughout Marion’s search for her parents, Deirdre was there, working right next to her and never complaining.

  She came with her on a long journey to Ridgemoore twice, even though she didn’t have to. And it was because of her that she had been allowed to stay at Gille Chriost. Deirdre was the one who had gotten through to Fionnghall in the first place. Without her, Marion would have been thrown to wolves as soon as Fionnghall saw her.

  And she never would have gotten to know what it feels like to love someone so deeply and undeniably. Was it better to know the pure happiness of true love though she would never ever be able to have him? Or would it have been better to not know true love, so she would have been safe from all the pain leaving him behind caused?

  Soon Deirdre left Marion’s room to attend to her studies. Marion didn’t want to run into Fionnghall, so she decided to grab a map from the library and to read it outside in the garden, away from prying eyes. And in the library, there was a possibility she might run into Fionnghall. As the thought crossed her mind, she felt a tingly sensation run through her. The events from last night were still fresh on her mind.

  She quickly grabbed a piece of paper, a bottle of ink and a quill from the library as well. For this escape, she would be prepared. Marion was going to draw a map for herself so she could find her way back to England.

  As Marion made her way through the lively castle, she tried her best to memorize all the small details about Gille Chriost that she loved so much, so that she could look back on them when she was in England, surrounded by a whole different world again.

  She loved the way the castle sounded. The servants were chattering audibly, not tiptoeing around like they did back in England. They were happy people, clearly loved living in the castle, and their happiness radiated from them.

  She liked the way the food made the whole downstairs part of the castle smell. It always made her hungry and she enjoyed the food that was always fresh and prepared with a dash of love.

  The people of the castle and Gille Chriost were the main reason why she would miss the castle the most. Everyone was much more relaxed than back home in England.

  And though the noises from the stable below her window had at first bothered her, she had grown to love it. The horses’ hooves against the ground, the sounds of them eating and neighing… it was all very calming and reassuring.

  Marion approached the back door that lead to the garden. The garden where she had once spent a night with Fionnghall. Her hand was already on the door handle, when she heard echoing voices from the other end of the hall.

  “... and the ball after the ceremony must be luxurious. I want a lot of flowers. And don’t forget to use glass instead of wood cups fer drinks. It is me wedding day, after all,” Lady Beitris said.

  Marion was about to step outside so she wouldn’t have to face the person to whom the bell-like voice belonged. But the word “wedding” stopped her and froze her.

  Lady Beitris stepped into view with her maid, her mother, and two other servants, who were all taking notes. Before Marion had the time to compose herself and step outside, she called her name.

  “Yes, Lady Beitris? It is wonderful to see you. I trust you are doing well?” Marion said, one hand on the handle, another one holding the map.

  “Ye as well. Will ye be stayin’ fer the wedding? I have nae extended any invitations yet. But I trust the Laird will want me to invite ye as well, such a likin’ he has taken to ye. He has a good heart, has he nae?” Lady Beitris asked.

  “Of course we will invite Lady Marion,” Lady Brun said and put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. It made Lady Beitris’ smile fade just a hint.

  “As ye wish, Mana. I am sure it will make Laird Gille Chriost happy as well. Ye will come, won’t ye?” Lady Beitris asked Marion. Her voice and expression told Marion she was hoping with all her heart that Marion would say no.

  Marion was a having a hard time coming up with a lie that was convincing enough, so she just nodded and smiled.

  Lady Beitris turned around and the rest of her little wedding army followed. They made their way towards the kitchen and Marion could only guess that they were going to be talking about the food and cakes.

  She felt a sting in her heart and tears started filling her eyes. She quickly blinked to dry her eyes and opened the door into the garden. The sooner she could leave, the better. Seeing Lady Beitris walking around the castle like she was already the Lady of it, made Marion feel more desperate than before. Setting the wedding date and seeing Lady Beitris preparing for her wedding made the situation more real than Marion could bear.

  She was the outsider. The one that didn’t belong. Watching the wedding from the sidelines as a guest would be her worst nightmare come true. Fortunately, by the time the wedding would be taking place, Marion would already be far away, back home in England.

  Deirdre couldn’t concentrate on her studies at all. She was supposed to study history and literature today, but her mind was on her best friend. Marion and Fionnghall belonged together, it had been very apparent from the start. They were both so similar, so stubborn and yet good-hearted.

  She woke up from her thoughts when Miss Landon snapped her fingers in front of her face.

  “May I please have yer attention?” she asked Deirdre, looking frustrated. Indeed, Deirdre wasn’t the best student today.

  “I am sorry, Miss Landon. May I ask ye a question?”

  “Is it relating to history?” she asked. Miss Landon wasn’t the type to be flexible or lenient. Or have a sense of humor, no matter how sweet and helpful she was.

  “Er… kind of,” Deirdre said and smiled hopefully.

  Miss Landon waved her hand impatiently.

  “Let us say there is a someone whose parents made a marriage arrangement fer them. But this someone doesnae want to hold on to that promise. Is there a way fer this someone to get out of the arrangement?�
��

  “That is nae a history question,” Miss Landon said and raised an eyebrow.

  Deirdre pursed her lips. “Fine. Has there been an event in history where someone was able to escape such a fate?” she reworded.

  Miss Landon looked up at the ceiling and thought about the question for a long moment.

  “Nah, nae in a successful and peaceful way. An arrangement as such is a contract and it must be followed. Breaking a promise of marriage is shameful and it can cause problems between families, I am afraid.”

  Deirdre looked clearly disappointed in her answer, so Miss Landon smiled.

  “But ye daenae have to worry about somethin’ like that. The Laird has been the most kind, lettin’ ye choose yer own beau, has he nae?”

  Deirdre sank back into her seat and exhaled. That was disappointing. She had hoped there was loophole that would let Fionnghall cancel the agreement and marry Marion instead. She could not imagine Lady Beitris next to Fionnghall, running Gille Chriost.

  “Can we get back to real history now, please?” Miss Landon asked, with a softer expression.

  “Aye, miss,” Deirdre responded.

  Something had to be done. But what?

  Fionnghall had been restless all morning. He had been pacing around the library, hoping that Marion would come in. He knew that Deirdre was studying and that was usually when Marion spent time in the library. He had waited for her for hours, but had not seen her yet.

  Jack stepped into the library, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Ready fer the hunt?” Jack asked.

  “Aye. Have ye seen Marion today?” he asked impatiently and walked out the door with Jack.

  Jack shrugged his wide shoulders. “Nah. Nae today.”

  Fionnghall squeezed his hands into tight fists. He had hoped he would get a chance to talk with Marion and to tell her about his plan to get out of the arrangement tomorrow morning. The Brun family would leave and Marion could stay, and the rest they would figure out later.

  “Is Laird Brun goin’ to join us?” Jack asked. He measured his long steps to fit with Fionnghall’s as they made their way to the stables.

  “Nae. I am goin’ huntin’ with him tomorrow morning,” he said and hesitated for a minute. “And I will tell him that the arrangement is over.”

  Jack was quiet for a brief moment. He was not the kind of person to say anything hesitantly. Instead, he always took his time before opening his mouth. This was possibly the best trait he had.

  “Are ye sure it is the best place to tell him ye are goin’ to back out on yer parents’ word? He is goin’ to be carryin’ a bow and some arrows, and he is nae a bad shooter,” he finally said and smirked.

  Fionnghall laughed unintentionally.

  “Aye, ye are right. But I am nae a bad shooter either,” Fionnghall said and punched Jack on the shoulder.

  “At least yer horse is fast,” Jack added and scratched his head.

  “Laird Gille Chriost!”

  Fionnghall heard a bell-like, familiar voice behind him and he groaned. Jack shot a knowing look towards him. It was Lady Beitris.

  Fionnghall forced himself to put on a smile and to respond nicely.

  “Lady Beitris. What can I dae fer ye this wonderful afternoon’?” Fionnghall said and bowed a little bit. Lady Beitris was accompanied by her mother and three servants.

  “Lady Brun, how are ye today?” he continued. Jack bowed at both of them as well, but stayed a step back.

  “Thank ye, Laird Gille Chriost, very well. Yer castle is very welcoming and homey,” she responded with a genuine and gentle smile.

  Lady Beitris touched Fionnghall’s arm gently and briefly. “We were goin’ over the wedding plans fer the ball and the food. Me maid took some notes to ensure we will nae forget any important details. Would ye like to weigh in? It is our wedding after all and I would like ye to be happy with it as well.”

  Lady Beitris was already treating the castle like it was hers. To her, it probably seemed so. Everything was set and nothing was standing in her way of becoming Lady Gille Chriost. Nothing, except Fionnghall’s strong feelings towards someone else.

  “I am sure ye are doin’ an excellent job, Lady Beitris. Please carry on,” he said shortly.

  Lady Beitris left, looking extremely happy with herself and her plans. Though he felt bad about having to burst her happy bubble in the morning, he had to do it. In this situation, someone had to lose.

  He bowed at Lady Brun who followed her daughter.

  “So,” Jack said with a genuine concern. “What dae ye reckon is goin’ to happen when ye tell Laird Brun about yer decision?”

  “I daenae ken,” Fionnghall responded. “But I dae ken that I cannae live without Marion by me side. How could I marry Lady Beitris and send Marion away? After the marriage she would nae let Marion stay here, and it would surely look bad.”

  They walked towards the stables and grabbed their bows and arrows. Fionnghall slid his sword into its holster as well.

  If I lose Marion, I will have lost everything. Never again would anything matter. If I lose her, I may as well be six feet under.

  17

  No Love Without Pain

  It was starting to get dark outside and Marion’s hand was aching from all the drawing. She had found a direct route she could take going from Gille Chriost back to England. She wanted to make sure that she wouldn’t get lost this time, so she didn’t leave out any details or any names of big or small towns.

  After hours and hours of drawing, her map was starting to resemble the map in the book. Now it was getting harder to see as the sun was setting, and she was running out of ink.

  She had managed to avoid Fionnghall and Deirdre the whole day. Now it was just a matter of deciding when to leave to draw the least amount of attention. Nighttime would be the best choice, as everyone would be sleeping and she would get far without anyone noticing. She had done it before, fairly successfully.

  Marion stepped into the lively castle. Everyone was preparing for dinner and Marion was starving, too, after not eating anything since breakfast.

  She made her way to the spiral stairwell that lead to the upstairs bedrooms, when she heard footsteps from above. Someone was coming downstairs. From the heavy sounds, Marion could only make that it was Fionnghall.

  Drats.

  She turned around quickly. She didn’t want to see him. In spite of her attempts to hide from him, she was too slow and Fionnghall caught up with her.

  “Marion, where have ye been all day?” he asked and stopped her by touching her shoulder.

  Marion slowly turned around and looked carefully into his eyes. She saw in them the warmth that she felt. The love, the passion, the yearning, and the hopelessness were all reflected in his eyes.

  “I… the day was so nice I was wandering around the garden,” she lied, hiding the book of maps behind her back.

  Fionnghall didn’t look convinced.

  “I wanted to tell ye that tomorrow morning all will be well. I will speak with Laird Brun and we can be together,” he said and brought himself closer to Marion.

  She turned her head away as he tried to kiss her.

  “You will do no such thing,” she said as coldly as she could.

  Fionnghall pulled back just an inch, still standing close to Marion and holding onto her shoulders. Marion wasn’t looking at him.

  “Marion, I ken ye love me too,” he said quietly. “This is the only solution. I refuse to marry Lady Beitris. It is a promise me parents made a long time ago. I only went with it because I never thought I would meet someone like ye, Marion,” he explained slowly, watching carefully at Marion’s face.

  Marion kept her face as composed as she possibly could. Fighting back the tears that were making their way up to her eyes was challenging. She could not let herself cry right now. Not before saying what she was about to say. Otherwise her lie would never work.

  “Laird Gille Chriost, I do not love you. I will leave the castle and you will never ha
ve to see me again. Everything can return to normal and you will be able to hold onto your promise,” Marion said and pushed him away.

  “That is nae true, stop lyin’, Marion,” Fionnghall called her out and grabbed her face between his warm hands.

  He pressed a kiss onto Marion’s unmoving lips. She felt his hot lips and the strength of his arms. It was like she was in the cage again, the cage where she wanted to stay but couldn’t. This time, she was not going to give in.

  Marion fought back and tried to pull her face away from his. It didn’t work, so she lifted her other hand and slapped him on the cheek with all her power.