Mesmerized by a Roguish Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

“Thank you,” Mary said, and just as Isla left, another woman came in. This woman was dressed differently from the healers and had a lovely green and black tartan dress with a white under blouse and skirting. In her arms was a babe. This woman was much different from the rest, and she looked regal.

  What does she want with me?

  Sitting up, Mary felt apprehension curl in her stomach as the woman neared. She began to speak but nothing came out and she managed to close her mouth quickly so she did not look like a fish. The lady perched herself at her side and smiled, “Ye must be Miss Thompson.”

  “I am,” she replied, “and you are?”

  “Lady Robasdan, the wife of Laird Robasdan, and this is one of me bairns, Cailbhin Allanach, he was getting fussy,” the Scotswoman smiled.

  Mary looked from the woman’s light-brown eyes and dark hair to the babe’s deep green. “He’s lovely, I suppose he gets his eyes from his father then?”

  Lady Robasdan's eyebrows lifted, “Very astute of ye, Miss Thompson. Isla came to me about ye needing a bath. I can offer ye me own tub if ye like. Perhaps a dress too.”

  “Oh,” Mary felt abashed, “you don’t need to give me any clothes. I have my own but I would be grateful for the bath. I left England in a hurry and barely took the time to cater to myself. I feel filthy.”

  “Ye dinnae look any of the sorts,” Lady Robasdan shook her head. “But I always feel comforted after a bath.”

  “Bah,” the babe called as he reached forward with grabby hands to Mary. Shocked into stillness, Mary did not move but the babe reached further and Lady Giselle laughed. “He wants to touch ye, Miss Thompson, ye dinnae have to if ye dinnae want to. Ye can hold him if ye want,” Lady Robasdan offered.

  That had Mary growing fearful, “I don’t know…I’ve never held a baby before.”

  “Dinnae worry,” Lady Robasdan advised as she placed the babe in her hands and fixed her arms to hold him. Mary felt her heartbeat increase as she was left to hold the tiny form in her arms alone.

  Terrified that she would drop him, Mary tugged him close to her chest and placed her palm on his back. She looked at his mother with fright and a silent call for help. “Lady Robasdan!”

  The baby was squirming and Mary knew she was out of her depth. “I cannot—”

  “Och!” Leith’s voice interrupted them. “What are ye doin’, Lady Giselle? Are ye farming yer baby out to another woman? I cannea blame ye, Robasdan is a bore.”

  “Nay such thing,” Lady Robasdan said laughingly while she scooped the babe from Mary’s hands. “I’d never trade Tarrant for the world. Miss Thompson, let Isla take ye to me rooms whenever ye are ready for yer bath.”

  Lady Robasdan sauntered away with a musical laugh and Leith took the lady’s place. His dark hair was ruffled and his eyes were soft. “I ken by now ye’ve been told ye need to wait another day to go.”

  “I have,” Mary exhaled. “I am feeling much better, but I understand they need me to be fully recovered before I take another journey.” She then eyed Leith, “Will you at least tell me why you’re here so far from your home, at last? I have given you my trust, Mister Balloch, will you afford me the same?”

  “Leith, please,” he said.

  “Only if you will call me Mary,” she replied. “Now will you please tell me what is happening?”

  His face went dour for a moment before he rubbed his palm over his eyes and then down to his mouth, “I dinnae want to upset ye.”

  “Please tell me anyway,” Mary said as she reached out to hold his hand. “What is it?”

  “Me Faither, lass,” Leith confessed. “He is ill, gravely ill. I came to find help when me people had none to give.”

  “Oh, my,” Mary exclaimed softly. “Is he bedridden?”

  “Nay,” Leith cupped her hand with his, and she felt his rough thumb stroke over the back of her hand. “He is nay lame; it is his mind. About six months ago, he began to see phantasms, and he is suspicious that everyone is out to kill him when nay one is. I need a physician for the mind, and I’m assured he is nae possessed.”

  His explanation had Mary sobering, “That is horrible.”

  “I’m worried for me Mother, lass,” Leith said. “She’s been nothin’ but loving and caring for him, but he is horrible to her. I hate to see her being abused, and from the man who had sworn to love and protect her makes it that much worse. It makes me feel like the Devil took me Faither and then replaced him with a foul spirit instead.”

  “You hate to see your mother hurt,” Mary said.

  “I hate to see anyone, man, woman or child hurt but aye, ‘specially women. I cannae stand to see women suffer. And to see me own mother being disadvantaged day after day pains me to me soul.”

  “I wish I could help you,” Mary sympathized. “I truly do but I cannot tell you where to go. At home, the only place of comfort I knew was the church, and when my parents decided it was a haven for heretics, I lost even that.”

  “Dinnae fret about it, lass,” Leigh smiled wanly. “I’ll figure it out soon. Robasdan has his men out in a search for me. I’m sure I can take ye to the Ettrick Waters and get back in time for his healer to go with me back home.”

  The reality that they were to part so soon, in less than a day, had Mary feeling uneasy which was strange because she had just been afraid of getting too close to him.

  Perhaps it is for the best, he needs time to find help for his father, and I need time to start another life.

  “Thank you again,” Mary said while pulling her hand away to search under her pillow. She took the three gold Guineas and pressed one of them into his hand. “Please give this to the Laird of the house for me.”

  Looking down at the coin, Leith shook his head. “Lass, yer money is worthless here, but I will give it to him. I can see that ye feel uncomfortable with being a burden.”

  “I am,” she said, “and thank you for telling me about your father. I will keep him in my prayers.”

  Leith stood and kissed the back of her hand, “Me thanks, Mary, and I will see ye on the morrow.”

  Taking her hand away, Mary smiled and placed it to her side. The press of his lips there was making her skin tingle, but she refrained from running her fingers over the patch of skin. “Or you could call me lass if you would prefer.”

  A slanted grin took Leith’s face. “I’ll remember that.”

  “Please send in Isla for me,” Mary requested.

  She watched him go and she was alone in the room for a few moments. Slipping off the bed, she grasped her sack and turned around to see Isla coming in. “I assume ye are ready to go to Lady Robasdan’s room.”

  “I am,” she nodded.

  The corridor’s floor suddenly changed from solid rock to a thick carpet underfoot, and Isla was pushing in a large door. Mary stepped in and suddenly clutched her sack to her chest. Her lips slipped open, and she began to doubt what her eyes were seeing.

  This room was fit for a Queen. Never in her life had Mary seen such resplendency as this large room carried. A warm glow encompassed the room from the large fireplace, and the light danced over colorful tapestries hung on the walls.

  The vivid colors were of mountains and valleys, sunsets over rivers and forests. A large, iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, the wide sprawling arms holding several dozen unlit beeswax candles. Her eyes traced a huge, four-poster bed with heavy curtains that hung from iron rods, and under her feet were carpets and new rush mats.

  In the corner was a pair of wooden bassinets, and Mary gravitated to them like iron being pulled by a lodestone. She did not dare touch but spotted soft blankets padded inside. She looked back and felt her soul sigh. This was lovely, so lovely. This was comfort, not pride as her parents would have sanctimoniously touted.

  “This way, Miss,” Isla said as she called Mary’s attention to a folding screen cutting off a part of the room from view.

  Peeling her eyes away, Mary followed Isla behind the screen and there rested a copper tub.

  �
�The bath is ready,” Isla pointed to a tray. “Here are a bar of soap, a rag, and a comb if ye wish to wash yer hair. Do you need help undressing?”

  “No, no,” Mary said, “I’m fully able to help myself, but thank you for the offer.”

  “Please call if ye need help,” Isla bowed her head and turned away,

  Placing the sack on a ground, Mary reached behind to braid her hair into a sloppy plait and then pulled the strings of her dress’ bodice free. She managed to unlaced the ties and pulled the soiled clothing over her head.

  His hands were shaking also, but not from fear but relief. The moment she was bare, she felt the warmth wafting up from the bath. She wondered how that water was still warm and then when she heard something pop, she realized that the bath was raised on bricks. Under them were warm coals.

  She braced her hands on the rim and carefully stepped inside. Sliding down in the warm water, her sigh of relief was audible. Her head was braced on the rim. Her body felt wooden and heavy as the warmth penetrated her skin. Having been used to baths, the three-and-a-half days of riding, and God knows how long lying unconscious in that ravine, plus the two days she had spent under the roof of the Robasdan Clan without one, had made her feel filthy.

  After scrubbing her body, she managed to wash her hair and twisted the thick locks into a coil. Then, clean and satisfied, she laid back to bask as much as she could in the comfort and safety. Her head still had little twinges of pain but she wasn’t going to say anything about it. She did not want to bother the healers anymore as she was sure that with time the pain would go.

  It was a dour prospect that she might have to live the rest of her life in solitude and loneliness but both were better than being married to a man that would suck the life out of her. She might be unmarried and alone, but she was able to live her life on her terms.

  Leith…he’s handsome and has a very gracious mind. I’m sure he’ll marry quickly enough. She pressed to her breastbone and grimaced. Why did that thought hurt me?

  Finished, she lifted herself out of the tub even as her limbs felt heavy. Drying off, she put on one of the dresses she had carried, an old grey one, and dried her hair enough so that it lay in wet curls around her shoulders.

  “Ye seem lively,” Lady Robasdan said as she came in with a babe in her arms. “Feeling better, I hope?”

  Ducking her head, Mary said, “I am and I do thank you and your husband for your help.”

  “Will ye spare a moment to tell me why yer here?” Lady Robasdan asked while gesturing to a seat.

  Even though the tale was a grievous one but not wanting to be rude to her host, Mary held her sack to her chest and said, “It’s not a wonderful story, Lady Robasdan…” Mary began to recount her tale from the day she met Lord Blackmore and the grief she had felt trying to get her parents to stop this ill-matched marriage. “I had no choice but to run or live a life that I know would kill me.” Mary bit her lip. “It’s a shameful act of running away the way I did, isn’t it?”

  “Nae, its survival,” Lady Robasdan replied. “Ye will have to do things that many would term disgraceful, but to ye is the only way ye can live. Dinnae be afraid to follow yer own heart, dear. It will lead ye to places yer mind will nae.”

  “Thank you for understanding,” Mary stood and hugged the woman, “and thanks to your husband for his hospitality.”

  “Given by proxy, but I’ll take it,” a gravelly voice said from the doorway.

  The man who entered, the Laird, was a large man in stature with wide shoulders, dark hair, and a thick beard. He came to rest a hand on his wife who looked at him with fondness, “Yer very welcome, Miss Thompson. If ye need help, be free to come to me. Lenichton will get ye here even faster.”

  Dropping out a curtsy, Mary smiled, “Good evening and my best prayers are with you.”

  Hurrying back the way she remembered Isla taking her, Mary got back to the infirmary just in time for a woman to come in bearing a tray of food and a draught of the mandragora.”

  Thanking her, Mary did not eat immediately, instead, she began to wonder if tomorrow would work out the way she wanted and even more, she wondered why she sensed that parting from Leith would pain her.

  I don’t even know the man…

  8

  With his hand shaking Tarrant’s, Leith nodded. “Thank ye, Robasdan, for yer help. I’ll be back as soon as I am able. If nae, I’ll send ye a message.”

  Gripping his hand firmly, the Laird of Robasdan nodded. “I ken. Take care of the little lass, Lenichton. Poor girl needs a friend in these times.”

  “Ye see it too,” Leith said as he twisted to see Mary, already seated on a borrowed horse, waiting for him at the gate.

  “Aye,” Tarrant said. “She’s sweet. Keep yer hands off her as long as ye can, Lenichton.”

  Rolling his eyes, Leith said, “I won’t be touching her at all.”

  Stepping away, Tarrant snorted, “We’ll see about that.” Lifting his hand, the Laird gave the silent command to the guards on the watchtowers for the bridge to be lowered. While it was being lowered, Leith mounted his horse. “Lady Robasdan, remember me word, I will come chargin’ if ye need help.”

  “A little too late for that, me friend,” Lady Robasdan smiled, while wrapping an arm around her husband’s burly frame. “I’m already in too deep.”

  Chuckling, Leith turned his horse toward the gate and rode to where Mary was seated. She skillfully turned her mount and rode with ease toward the bridge. Seeing her ride, he could understand how she had gotten to Scotland on her own, she was a skillful rider.

  They passed the bridge and went east of the Robasdan forest to get to Ettrick Waters in silence. The only sound between them was the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the birdsong above them. Seeing her ride with one hand holding the reins, he knew he had to speak.

  “Ye ride like a natural,” he commented. “When did ye begin to learn?”

  After a quick look over at him, she replied, “I was nine. My parents had cut me off from all other activities…playing cards, having dolls, eating undue sweets…deeming them lusts of the flesh, so I begged them to let me learn to ride. Riding was my constant solace for many years. I mastered the craft at fourteen and from then it became my main joy.”

  Nearing her, Leith considered, “Surely there had to be something more. It seems inconceivable to me for ye to live without one pleasure.”

  “It grew with me,” Mary said calmly. “When you are young, things make a deep impact on you more than when you are older. I thought it was normal at that age, but as I grew older, I began to resent it. I even went against the norms of the country and taught my maid to read.”

  “I was very curious as a boy,” Leith said. “Dropped into a dry well on a jaunt for finding hidden treasures. I stayed there for half a day determined to nae call for help. I was decided on getting out meself or die trying.”

  Shooting an amused looked at him, Mary asked, “Did you?”

  “Aye,” Leith said. “Cost me two skinned knees, a nearly broken arm, and sprained ankle but I climbed out. I was as dirty as the Loch Ness after a swelling.”

  “I can’t say my childhood had more than reading the Bible and learning how to knit,” Mary replied. “As I said, the only enjoyment I had was riding.”

  “Another thing I loved was played with swords,” Leith added. “Nearly skewered meself clear in half too.”

  “Really,” Mary laughed, “how did that happen?”

  Leith was not able to reply as her laugh was still in his ears. It was light and a little hesitant but lovely overall. “It was me Faither’s broadsword and I was a scrawny little wisp of a thing, kenning I was old enough to handle a weapon that was as long as I was. Lifting the pommel had me huffing like a wounded boar but I kept on.”

  “And what happened to make you almost kill yourself?” Mary asked.

  “I kent swinging the sword would make it easy to lift but I ended up spinning the bloody thing unto meself to carve through me t
high, thank God, me Faither came in,” Leith said. “Funny thing he was watching me all the time to see if I could manage, but when he saw I wasnae, he stepped in. Me Faither dinnae coddle me. He was a swim or sink kind of person. Ye had to prove yerself or die tryin’.”

  “My parents left almost everything to God; guidance, correction, even praise for doing something right,” Mary said hollowly as they trotted past the forest line and cantered into a large grassy meadow. “I had to seek God for everything they could have given me.”

  And god, if he did not hear pain in her voice. The spring season was in its highest point, and the meadow was carpeted with high, vibrant verdant grass and multi-hued flowers that patchworked the land. Vivid reds, golden yellows, and burnt oranges broke up the somber green.