by Fiona Faris
“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.
He watched her walk along the edge of the keep walls, her hand ungloved and running along the wall as if to keep her way in the darkness. His memory of her from four years past did no real justice to her true beauty. It wasn’t simply that she was bonny to set eyes on, though she was lovely enough. It was more of a way of movement, a grace that pulled at the very core of him. She looked up just as the green and red flashes of light of the northern sky skated across their view. Gavin heard her sharp intake of breath.
“We call ‘em Na Fir Chlis,” he said, coming forward from the shadows. “Or in English, th’ Nimble Men.” She turned and offered him a weak smile.
“Tell me about them.”
“When we were lads, my Da told Lucas an’ me when the green lights appeared in the sky, a clan of nimble warrior men were fighting a great battle against evil.” He reached down and picked up a small, smooth stone from a small pile stacked against the wall. It was dark and flecked with spots of red, barely visible in the moonlight. He handed the stone to Amelia. “As the blood of their enemies spilled and fell upon the earth, our soft, highland rock would absorb their blood, and whatever lad found the bloodstone would have luck all the year-long. When the battle above was over, and the nimble men had won, the red lights would begin to dance across the night sky. These were the ladies who loved the warriors, welcoming them home from a good and fair fight. We call them the merry dancers.”
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
“Nor have I,” he replied, but he wasn’t looking at the sky, and in the soft, pale moonlight, he could see her cheeks warm with a blush that only served to make her more beautiful. He reached out and ran his fingers down her cheek, lured by an unseen force to touch her. She sighed and leaned into his palm. “What are ye doin’ here, lass, and why did ye lie tae Ella about how long ye’ve been in Scotland?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Can ye not try tae explain it?” Amelia let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t explain to himself why, but her trust was important. More than her trust in him, he also wanted to know if he could trust her. That is was more than a physical reaction that bound him to her.
“I’m looking for a baby. Well, not a baby any longer, most likely a young man now. I know he is somewhere in the Highlands, but I’m not sure where. I’ve been searching for over four years.”
Gavin didn’t know what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t what escaped her lips. A young man? Surely, she was too young to have borne a child that would be older than a lad now?
“I doona mean tae question ye, lass. But whose bairn would it be?” She looked up at him, and in the moonlight, he saw the depth of emotion in her eyes.
“My mother’s.” Gavin held back his surprise. He didn’t know much about Ella, Amelia, and their family, but he knew their mother had died in childbirth many years earlier. The babe was also said to have died. A son.
“I thought the bairn didnae make it through th’ birth?”
“That’s what we were always told. When Ella left, Father had already been ill, we didn’t know. On his deathbed, he confessed that the baby survived and wasn’t his. It was guilt he carried with him that forced the confession. He was so angry at mother for straying from their marriage that he couldn’t stand the thought of raising a son that wasn’t his. He would rather have people think the baby died as well.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. Gavin understood she wasn’t sparing the emotion
for her dead father, but rather her mother and the poor babe.
“What made ye think the babe lived in Scotland?”
“Father didn’t reveal much, but he said the baby’s true father was a bastard, a stable master he’d hired to work the horses. In his words, he sent the baby back to Scotland to be raised by his heathen sire. Our maid, Gwen, she remembered the man saying he was from the Highlands; he wore a plaid of blue and yellow. I didn’t know where to start, but eventually, as you know, I made it to Perth.” The mention of Perth made Gavin tense. His heart began to race, any mention of his time in the gaol caused an involuntary response in him. He hoped Amelia didn’t notice the change. As he struggled to control himself, he focused on the gold of her hair as it glinted in the moonlight.
That’s right, Gav, just keep breathin’. In an’ out, He paused to gather himself before speaking again.
“And what happened in Perth?”
“In Perth, before we met, I found out about a baby who was given to a highland laird named Cabduh, who took the child in. But the trail went cold. It seems no one much likes to discuss the Cabduh clan, which is curious.” She looked perplexed and then waved her hand as if banishing an errant thought away. Gavin found everything about her movements fascinating but hearing the name Cabduh gave him pause.
“What then, lass?”
“Then everything happened with the prisoners and the horses.” She took a deep breath, before continuing and Gavin followed suit. That day burned into his memory, and it seemed hers, as well. “That’s when I stopped looking for the child while I tried to find you, with no luck. I needed to leave Perth and resume my search. I thought the best way for me to learn more was to come deeper into the Highlands. I worked as a maid in several inns, learning everything I could. I tried to find out more, but I’m an English woman, alone in a place that doesn’t care much for the English. Not surprisingly, the trail went cold. Eventually, I ended up close to Cadney.”
“Why would ye not tell Ella all of this? Surely she would understand and help?”
“I didn’t want to worry or plague her. She is so happy. It’s best she doesn’t learn any of this until I find the boy. Until I have proof that this all wasn’t just another manipulation by our father.” Amelia stepped away from him then, and Gavin found he missed the warmth of her body near his.
There was only hurt and disappointment in her future on this path, and he wanted to protect her from it. Even if the child survived, which he doubted. If she continued to search, and that search led her to Cabduh, there would be nothing but danger for her there. No one hated the English more than Laird Cabduh, and he wasn’t in his right mind. Gavin needed to discourage her.
“’Tis a fool’s errand, lass. Even if the lad lives, he was raised a Scot, he’ll nay want anythin’ tae do with ye.”
“Don’t you see, I have to try. Not for me, but for Ella. Our mother and brother’s deaths hit her harder than she would ever let on. I’m her sister, I know. If somehow I could find him, bring him into our family, she would be happy.” Gavin grabbed Amelia’s arm, noting how delicate her bare skin was against the roughness of his hands as he pulled her into his arms.
“Ahhh, lass, but don’t ye see. Ella’s already happy. She doesnae need anythin’ more. She has Lucas, the bairns, and now ye.”
“You’re wrong. She needs this!”
“Is it possible, lass, that ye need this?”
Amelia shook her head in defiance of what Gavin knew was the truth. Amelia needed to find her lost brother. She needed to complete her family to be complete herself. Something in that vulnerability struck Gavin to his core. He looked into her eyes, not surprised to find them shimmering with unshed tears. He brought his hands up to place gently behind her head. Threading her soft hair into his hand, he drew her close and gently brought her mouth to his.
He wanted to reassure her. She was not alone. She could find happiness.
Chapter Four
He was here, now, after all this time, kissing her. Amelia leaned into Gavin, relishing the hard feel of his muscled chest against her hands as she grabbed his shirt and deepened the kiss.
She wanted to forget. Forget that he was right, her only goal for the last four years had been to prove her father truly was the monster she thought he was. To prove that the baby that was the last product of love, her mother made was well and taken care of. To prove to Ella she wasn’t just a child herself, that she had worth. Gavin was here, now, after all this time, kissing her, proving to her that she was more.
Coherent thought left her as Gavin urged her to open for him. Shocking her as he used his tongue to taste and tease her. This was unlike any idea she’d had of kissing. If it hadn’t felt so good, she would have pushed him away from the sheer intensity of it. She had never imagined kissing could be so… so, intimate.
“Gavin,” she husked, his name the only sound she could make as she pulled back slightly to draw breath.
“Och, lass. We shouldn’t.” He stepped back, putting too much space between them, misinterpreting her movements. She wasn’t ready for their kiss to end, tightening her grip on his clothing. Amelia pulled herself into him again. His words trailed away as she leaned up and took his mouth with her own, reading his kiss back to him with her actions in a perfect dance. A soft murmur from somewhere deep bubbled up from her as their lips met. Gavin groaned as he moved his hands from her shoulders and captured her waist. She felt the power in his grip and heat pooled at her center. She wasn’t sure what it meant, only that she needed to be nearer to him. She wanted to feel the length of him against her. He pushed her against the cold stone of the keep’s outer wall, moving his knee to spread her legs, and she pressed herself to him, hoping to cool some of the fire that raged in her as his tongue swept through her mouth and his hands ground her middle. Rough need poured through her that crossed miles and years. She arched her back, breaking their kiss, allowing him to move his mouth from hers and trail light nipping, across her jawline, finally ending at the softness of her earlobe.
“Lass, how long I’ve dreamed of ye like this, and more,” he whispered, sending a spasm of pleasure down her spine. He was here, he was kissing her. The hard length of his manhood pressing into her center assured her he was very real. Then, as seemingly quick as their kiss had started, he was pulling away from her, running his hands through his ginger locks.
“Gavin, what is it?” she asked, her body already shivering from the cold and his missing warmth.
“Shhh, lass,” he said as he moved to shield Amelia from the darkness. “There was a sound from around the keep’s corner. Someone is coming close. I willnae let ye be seen like this.” Unaware of her appearance, she wondered seen like how? Compromised? Ravished? Loved? Her hand reflexively went to her hair, as she tried to replace the pins that had been put asunder by their kiss. She heard the sounds as well.
Gavin’s body tensed as the sounds grew closer. Amelia couldn’t help but notice how tightly he was wound.
What happened to him in gaol?
Three incredibly drunk clansmen rounded the corner, singing and clanking their tankards together. They were boisterously singing a song Amelia had never heard before, and she was quite sure they were missing a good number of the proper words. She stifled a laugh.
“I don’t think we’re in any danger from those men,” she said, still smiling.
“Nay, lass, I doona think we are. But maybe we should get back to th’ feast before we are missed.” He offered her his arm, and because Amelia knew he was right, she took it.
* * *
Sometime after dawn, Amelia realized sleep would not come for her. She made her way through the hallways of the keep in search of the Laird’s library. With the whole of the castle still abed after the feast the night before, Amelia found solace in the ancient stone walls with no one else about.
Opening the heavy wood doors that led into the massive library, Amelia gasped in delight. She wasn’t looking for anything, just a quiet space, surrounded by
books and papers where she could think. The MacGille library was just that. Walls upon walls filled to the brim with thick volumes accentuated the fine leather furniture and gigantic hearth. Even though the fire had died down, the embers were still vibrant enough to cast a warm glow in the room, and Amelia was absorbed in shelf after shelf of the written word. Large histories of each highland clan seemed to go on forever, Amelia wasn’t aware before this that anyone had begun to write such histories down. What would she learn?
She pulled one heavy tome off a shelf. If she happened to stumble upon some information about the clan Cabduh, or anything that may help her in her search, it would be welcomed, even if unexpected. She moved with the book to one of the oversized chairs that faced an eastern window, allowing the light to come in to make it easier for Amelia to read. Sinking into the chair and wrapping her plaid about her legs, she tucked in for a good read.