Captivating the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

  Fionnghall pulled away just a little bit, with a smirk on his face. The slap hadn’t hurt him, but it was enough of a distraction that Marion was able to speak.

  “I do not love you and I will leave. Please, leave me alone!” Marion whispered and ran up the stairs, leaving confused Fionnghall behind.

  “Marion!” he whispered after her, but he was too late. Marion was already at the top of the stairs and headed for her bedroom.

  Fionnghall stared behind Marion with confusion. He knew she had been lying about loving him. But he wasn’t sure if she was lying about leaving Gille Chriost. Even the thought of it sent chills down his spine and he quickly thought through different scenarios in his head. Should he run after her or leave her be?

  He took a few uncertain steps up the stairs, but stopped soon and decided it would be better to let Marion calm down. She would come to her senses and he would talk to her at dinner.

  Then a very unpleasant and terrifying idea caught up with him. What if Marion was serious about leaving? He had to find Laird Brun and to break the engagement off tonight.

  If he did so, Marion would have no reason to leave and no reason to keep lying to him. And to herself.

  Fionnghall made a decision in a fraction of a second and headed down the stairs. He needed to find Laird Brun and then he could talk to Marion.

  “Miss Darcy,” Fionnghall stopped the first servant that he came across in the hall.

  “Aye, me lord?” she said and curtsied.

  “Have ye seen Laird Brun tonight?”

  She shook her head and encouraged him to ask one of his servants. Fionnghall headed towards the guest wing and knocked on the door of Laird Brun’s personal servant.

  There was no answer.

  Fionnghall half ran across the castle looking for anyone who might know the location of Laird Brun. No one seemed to have seen him. He couldn’t find any of his servants or body guards. He grew impatient and frustrated. Clearly, he had left the castle, but no one knew where he had gone.

  In his mind, Fionnghall cursed Laird Brun. He never wanted the man with his family to show up at his castle. He had never wanted any of this. All he wanted to do now was to fix the situation by backing out on the promise made by someone else.

  It wasn’t right that Marion was unhappy and emotional. They loved each other. They should have been happy together, not ripped apart because of a little bit of land and money.

  Fionnghall ran over to the stables. It was quiet. All the grooms had already left to get dinner and the horses had already gotten their food. The stable had about a hundred horses but it was easy to see that Laird Brun’s horse was not in his stall.

  A few other of the Brun’s horses were missing, but their coach was still parked neatly in the shed. He could tell that Lady Brun and her daughter were still in the castle, but Laird Brun was away.

  Briefly, he considered saddling up his own horse and going after him. Only he had no idea where he had gone. His best bet would be to wait in the castle for his return and speak with him as soon as he returned.

  Fionnghall had never been a very patient man. Having to wait for Laird Brun was unnerving as he had no idea when he would return.

  He also couldn’t guess Marion’s thoughts and what she was going to do. He hoped with all his heart that Marion had only been upset and that she would come down to dinner. He only wanted to see the reassuring look in her eyes. The sparkle that told him she loved him and would never leave.

  He couldn’t take it if she left—and he refused to be abandoned by her.

  Fionnghall walked slowly towards the castle as the raindrops started dripping down. The air was cooler and fall was steadily and surely making its way to Scotland.

  He had never known this kind of love. In fact, he didn’t even know that loving someone this much was possible. It was as though he had only been an empty shell before Marion had made her way into his life.

  Would it be better to have loved and lost, than not loved at all?

  Marion was trembling all over and as she closed the door of her bedroom, she let her tears flow freely. She didn’t try to stop them or the sobs that rose from her throat. She half hoped he would run after her and come in through the door. On the other hand, she hoped he would leave her alone and not put her in temptation.

  She moved quickly to ensure no one would interrupt her in the middle of her plan. She grabbed a piece of paper from her nightstand and the quill from between the book and sat at the table in the corner of her bedroom.

  Marion couldn’t bear to say goodbye to Deirdre. Over the past months, she had become her best friend and one of the very few people she could ever imagine sharing her secrets with.

  Besides, even if she did say goodbye to her, Deirdre would find one way or another to persuade her to stay. And Marion’s will, though dedicated, was weak and at this very moment, easily persuaded. She knew that if Deirdre or Fionnghall gave her a reason to stay now, any glimmer of hope that she might be able to be together with him, she would stay in a heartbeat.

  Instead, she decided to write her a letter. In it she would explain everything, why she left, how she felt and why it was the best. She exhaled deeply, trying to calm her trembling and shaking hands. Despite her best efforts, she still managed to made a huge ink splatter on the paper.

  Dear Deirdre,

  Please don’t be mad at me. Knowing that you will be reading this letter instead of hearing everything from me already hurts me more than I can say. So please, do not be angry with me.

  I had to leave. I have made my peace with the fact that I shall never find my birth parents. My plan is to return to England and to my parents, and to put together the pieces of my life that are still left.

  Please, do not misunderstand me. I love you like my sister, and you are my very best friend. But in the light of the recent events, I am afraid it is impossible for me to stay at Gille Chriost.

  Fionnghall has made it apparent that he cares for me and I cannot deny that I respond to those feelings with all my heart. However, he is to be married to Lady Beitris and I cannot stand in the way of that. Though he assures me that he has no feelings towards her, it does not change the fact that the prosperity and well-being of your people, both at Gille Chriost and Brun, depend on this commitment.

  Stepping in the way of that would be most irresponsible and selfish of me. I cannot do that to your people. They are honest and hard-working and they helped me in the time of my need. How could I take their happiness away from them?

  Please try to understand. Saying goodbye to you in person would have been too hard, but I hope that this letter will suffice and be an explanation and a goodbye. I promise to write to you as often as I can. We will surely keep in touch. Please extend my gratitude for everything to your brother and apologize for me.

  No matter how much I wish the situation were different, I am afraid I can never return. I shall think of all of you with warm thoughts. I will miss you, Deirdre. Forgive me.

  Much love,

  Marion

  Marion folded the letter quickly but neatly and placed in on her bed. She knew that Deirdre would find it eventually. Sooner or later, they would come looking for her.

  It was dinner time and any minute Deirdre would be knocking on her door. She would have to come up with a convincing lie that would make her go without her and not check up on her later. She hated lying, especially to Deirdre, but she needed to get out of the castle as soon as possible and not be seen.

  When Marion left England, she never imagined that instead of finding her parents, she would find the greatest love of her life. Though she hadn’t known Fionnghall for long, she felt as if they had known each other their whole lives. They were missing pieces of each other, they completed each other, like two pieces of a puzzle.

  Marion sat on her bed and covered her tear-streamed face with her hands. She would tell Deirdre that she had a headache and that she would go to sleep early. Deirdre wouldn’t make her come to dinner with a headache
or wake her up later. This would give Marion the perfect chance to leave in the middle of the night, when everyone was sleeping, no one the wiser.

  She stuffed the tartan in her bundle once again and took her cloak from the peg. Now all she had to do was wait.

  18

  Departed

  Fionnghall was immersed in his own thoughts at the dinner table. Lady Beitris was talking with her mother about the upcoming wedding and making plans, while Deirdre was quiet and clearly bored.

  Every now and then, Lady Beitris asked for his opinion on something, but all he could do was grunt and nod his head. Waiting for Laird Brun was torture and Marion wasn’t at the dinner table, easing his anger and frustration.

  “Will ye excuse me,” Deirdre suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room. Fionnghall was left with the Brun Ladies and he wished he could have stood up as well, leaving the dinner party.

  “Mother, would ye mind if I had a moment with Laird Gille Chriost? I wish to speak with him. If ye daenae mind, Laird?” she said and her smile was courteous, yet somewhat cold. In the back of his mind, Fionnghall was wondering how it was possible to smile and yet be so cold and unpleasant.

  “Sure, Beitris, I will meet ye later. Thank ye, Laird Gille Chriost, fer the wonderful dinner,” Lady Brun said and exited the room.

  Fionnghall was curious about this situation. In fact, he had never been alone with Lady Beitris before. He looked at her with a superficially interested expression.

  “What can I dae fer ye, Lady Beitris?” he asked and sipped his wine.

  Lady Beitris straightened her back and flipped her long strawberry-blonde hair over her right shoulder.

  “I wanted to talk to ye about yer guest,” she started carefully. Fionnghall’s neck immediately tightened and he pressed his lips together.

  “Aye?” he asked.

  “I understand that she has become very close with yer sister and that she is a welcomed guest,” she said, standing up and walking around the dinner table to get a pitcher of wine.

  “Aye, indeed,” Fionnghall responded, not liking where the conversation was going.

  “But, I must confess, that I dae nae feel very comfortable with her being in the castle. She is an Englishwoman, and she is here with no family or companions. It looks… bad,” Lady Beitris continued. She poured more wine for Fionnghall and herself and sat back down.

  “As I have said before,” Fionnghall started, “Lady Marion is a welcomed guest and she can stay as long as she likes. That is the end of it,” he added. Out of courtesy, he was trying not to sound too hostile.

  “I understand,” Lady Beitris said. The conversation clearly wasn’t over on her end. “That it surely what ye must dae because of yer good heart and judgement.” She smiled.

  Fionnghall crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows.

  “But?”

  “But… as yer future wife… I would very much appreciate if ye would encourage her to find other accommodation,” she said and reached her hand over the table to touch Fionnghall’s.

  This was enough for him to set his anger, that was already bubbling underneath the surface, on fire.

  “Ye are nae me wife yet. And even if ye were, this is still me castle, and what I say, goes,” he said and stood up.

  Lady Beitris looked offended and she was batting her eyelashes in shock.

  “But surely ye understand that this situation is makin’ me very uncomfortable,” she demanded more than stated.

  “Is it? I am sorry to hear that, Lady Beitris, but nothin’ has changed,” he said. He headed to the dining room door and opened it, holding it open for her.

  “Me faither will hear about this!” she exclaimed and stared Fionnghall right in the face.

  “Good! Why daenae ye tell him with the same breath that the engagement is off. Good night, Lady Beitris,” he said, this time making it apparent that there was nothing more to say.

  Lady Beitris exhaled in shock and left the dining room with a look of astonishment and hurt on her face.

  Fionnghall slammed the door shut after her.

  The castle was asleep. Marion couldn’t hear anything, no steps in the halls, no talking, no noises from the yard. It was dark outside and the clouds had covered the moon. She looked out of her window. There was no one in the yard.

  Her heart was beating rapidly and she was fighting back the tears that were burning behind her eyes. It was time to leave.

  She grabbed her bundle and purple cloak and looked behind herself for the last time before closing the door behind her. The letter she had written earlier was neatly folded on her bed. Her eyes watered when she closed the door, but she quickly blinked away the tears.

  Now was not the time to let herself fall apart. She would have plenty of time for that later. She tiptoed through the sleeping castle, keeping her other hand on the cool, stone wall.

  She had made a plan to go out of the back door just in case, and to ride through the back fields where the sheep were grazing. It would be better to not go through the main gate, as someone might see her from the castle.

  She crossed the empty front hall and hurried towards the back door that led her to the garden. From there, it was easy to keep out of sight. She ran along the side of the castle towards the barn.

  Pulling open the door, she entered the quiet barn. All she could hear was the steady breathing of horses and occasional grunts.

  “Hey Bells, ready to go home?” she asked as she reached Bells’ stall. Bells, as always, looked at her with her big bright eyes with her ears up.

  It didn’t take long for her to saddle her. Bells stood still and silent, as if she knew something was up. The whole time Marion was holding back tears and sobs.

  Don’t think of it now—later, when you are far from the castle.

  She walked Bells out of the stall, but before she could lead Bells out of the barn, someone grabbed Bells’ bridle from the other side.

  “Ah, who is it, but the Sassenach herself,” she heard a man’s voice and turned quickly around. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.

  It was Laird Brun.

  The sturdy man with wide shoulders held onto Bells’ bridle. She didn’t like that and lifted her head up, backing away. Marion didn’t let go.

  “Laird Brun!” she said, startled.

  “Where are ye goin’?” Laird Brun asked. His eyes looked red and puffy and she was certain that he had been drinking. She could smell the smell of alcohol in his breath. It was revolting.

  “I am going back home to England. Now, please let go of my horse,” she said with a stern voice.

  The Laird kept holding onto Bells’ bridle. He looked directly into Marion’s eyes.

  “Good, it is time ye go and stay gone. Ye could never stand next to Laird Fionnghall,” he slurred.

  “I am sure I don’t know what you mean, Laird Brun,” Marion said, holding onto Bells’ bridle just as hard as he was.

  “Me Beitris will lead the people if Gille Chriost and Brun to prosperity. Ye could never dae it, ye Sassenach… Ye are the enemy,” he said, though Marion had a hard time making out the words.

  “Let go of my horse!” Marion demanded, this time with a voice that made the Laird let go of the reins.

  “Good! Go! Never come back here! Ye are nae welcome! Me Beitris will soon be the Lady of Gille Chriost and ye will have no business here!” he said loudly.

  Marion saw something in his eyes. Fury. Madness. This man looked like there was something wrong in his head. He mumbled something inaudible to himself and kept looking at Marion without blinking.

  She quickly gathered herself and walked Bells outside without saying a word. The Laird had given her a fright and now her heart was racing for a whole different reason. As she mounted Bells, she heard banging in the stable. It sounded like the Laird was hitting buckets on his way out.

  Marion was afraid that the yelling and banging had woken up someone in the castle, so she hurrie
d Bells into a gallop and towards the back fields. It had started drizzling and the clouds were covering the little sliver of the moon. There was no light and she had to trust Bells to watch where she stepped.

  She could see the gate to the sheep pastures in front of her. Fortunately, it was open and Marion encouraged Bells to gallop through.

  The herd of sheep stood still, watching this lonely horse and her rider fly by. They lifted their heads from the grass and some followed a few steps behind them, before falling back.

  Marion could only hear the wind in her ears. She turned to look back over her shoulder, just to see the castle disappearing behind the trees.