A Promise for Tomorrow

by Michele Paige Holmes

  And oh, the height! My heart soared when his lips continued to caress mine, his hands cupping my face and sliding to tangle in my loose hair. I was out of breath but didn’t care. What better way to perish than being kissed by the man who consumed me?

  Collin’s lips roved over mine possessively, as if he wished to know every part of them. I wanted him to know everything, and I gave it freely. I love you thrummed through my mind and body. I was in love with my husband, and this kiss all but proved he felt something for me— other than a desire to protect.

  With a last, almost playful tug at my bottom lip, he pulled away— breathing as hard as I.

  “Katie, we mustn’t—”

  I silenced his second attempt at protest with my mouth, shifting my weight so I knelt on the bed beside him and grasped his shoulders. “Kiss me, Collin,” I ordered, my lips brushing his as I spoke. “Show me what you feel for me. Telling me isn’t enough.”

  He groaned again but complied with my request, cradling my face in his hands once more and crushing his lips to mine. What could only be passion had burst to life between us and seemed bent on consuming us in its fire. The world fell away so that it was only Collin and I who existed. All else ceased to matter or even to be. I love you.

  “I love you, Katie.” That he spoke the words first brought tears to my eyes. I stopped kissing him and threw my arms around him.

  “I love you, Collin. Thank you for coming all the way to England for me, for bringing me home. I’m sorry for being difficult, then and now.”

  He gathered me— bunched skirts, petticoats, and all— on his lap and held me there, my face pressed against his shirt and his heart pounding loudly beneath.

  “I would go to the ends of the earth for you,” he said solemnly.

  “Let us pray you do not have to,” I said.

  “Aye.” He kissed my forehead.

  Our breathing slowed gradually, the passion turning to something deeper. I simply wanted to hold him and be held. Forever.

  “I have robbed you of sleep,” Collin said at last, as he looked toward the moonlight coming through the shuttered window. “Morning will be here before we know it.”

  “Morning is hours away. I want to spend every one of those as we’ve spent the past few minutes.”

  “We cannot.” This time he sounded as if he meant it. Collin lifted me from his lap. He stood and took several steps from the bed before turning around to face me.

  I smiled at his serious expression, made less so by his mussed hair and collar. No doubt I showed signs of our tryst as well. I scooted to the edge of the bed, smoothed my skirts, and folded my hands demurely in my lap. “Was there something you wished to say?” Now that we had established that we both cared for one another and that I was aware of the dangers and willing to risk a child coming of our union, I could think of no argument he might make against our continuing on that path.

  “Aye.” Collin clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing before the bed. “There is to be no more kissing, no more anything.”

  “No—”

  He held a hand up, silencing my protest. “I am most serious. The danger to your life—and to any child you might conceive is real. And while kissing does not a child create, it leads to more temptation than I can promise to withstand.”

  This admission ought to have pleased me, but I could think only of what came before it. No more— anything. I was not surprised when Collin next announced that we could not share a bed. He said he would make a spot on the floor so no one need realize our arrangement.

  “I shall realize it,” I said, forming the lips he had thoroughly kissed into a full pout.

  “This is not what I want, Katie.” He ceased pacing and knelt before me. “It is what must be done to keep you safe.”

  “You mean my gift safe,” I muttered.

  “No.” He took my hands. “I mean you. That morning Ian found us together in your room at the inn, he assumed we had lain together as husband and wife. I fear he would kill you, should that circumstance ever occur.”

  “Why? He witnessed our marriage, so surely he ought to have realized—”

  “Ian believed the marriage was solely for the purpose of obtaining your dowry.” Collin gave my hands a light squeeze, then released me and stood once more. “I had to convince him of that, because were it to be anything different— were you ever to conceive and bear a child, that child would be in line to be a MacDonald laird.”

  “And Ian could not stomach anyone with Campbell blood having that position.” I finally understood. No wonder Collin had been upset that morning, and no wonder I had hardly seen him in the two days that followed. He had been keeping Ian away from me, trying to convince him that all was not as it had seemed.

  Exactly what Alistair had tried to tell me. All is not always as it seems.

  “Ian already tried to kill you once,” Collin said. “I’d prefer not to give him another reason to try again.”

  “Very well.” I admitted defeat— for now. But surely we would find a way around the Ian problem. Problems. All of them— sooner or later. Our life could not be spent thusly— near one another but not permitted to truly be husband and wife.

  “Brann is equally dangerous,” Collin said. “Did you see the way he looked at you tonight when you said you were tired? He is already speculating about whether or not you might be with child.”

  “We’ve been married but a fortnight.” I threw my hands up in exasperation. It seemed everyone was interested in the intimacies of our marriage.

  “Time enough.” Collin gave me a wry grin. “Brann wouldn’t see you killed for it, but he’d want you— and the child— for himself more than ever. It is highly possible that any child of yours will carry your gift, and therefore be in danger as well. But even if that were not the case, Brann would know he could use the child to get what he wanted from you.”

  I stood and followed Collin across the room. “Even if a child was conceived tonight—”

  He turned sharply to stare at me. I willed my blush away and continued, eager to make my point. “Even then, it would be months before the baby was born. Brann won’t be here.”

  “He will have to be more than away from this place for me to feel you are safe.” Collin paused near the door, pushing the bureau so that it was more squarely in front.

  “What do you mean?” A sick feeling started in my stomach where only a minute or two before had been the most pleasant sensations.

  “You know as well as I.” Collin faced me once more. “You don’t really believe that simply because your name is on the deed— if that even stands— that Brann will go peacefully? He’ll want a fight.”

  “As do you.” I’d sensed it this morning, this change in Collin, before we’d even met Brann. This was about more than the present or our future. He was carrying the past with him, bent on exacting retribution.

  “What did Brann do to you?” I folded my arms. “When you were both younger, when you lived here before, what happened?”

  “Isn’t it enough that he strangled your mother?” Collin demanded.

  I winced at the reminder. The anger I’d felt in him earlier had surfaced easily with the change of subject.

  “Will killing Brann make anything better? Will it bring her back?” It felt like I was defending Brann— the last thing I wanted. Neither did I wish to see Collin consumed with hatred. This side of him was new— and frightening.

  “It will ensure he never does the same to you.” Collin moved to stand before me. “Brann is the reason you were taken from me. He betrayed your grandfather and went to the English— told them I was here. Told your father you were with me. Brann took you from me, and he won’t do that again.”

  “He can’t. He won’t. I’m grown now, and I won’t allow it.” I reached up, taking Collin’s face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “He has no power over us.”

  “Not now he doesn’t.” Collin’s voice quieted. “But if there was a bairn involved...” He took
my hands from his face but pulled me close, into the solid security of his embrace. “A parent will do a lot for a child— anything, really. Even give up his life if necessary.”

  He was thinking of his father, who had willingly faced a firing squad to ensure that Collin lived. I squeezed my eyes shut, hurting for him, that he had such a terrible memory to live with.

  “All right,” I conceded— truly conceded. I would do anything not to bring Collin more pain or worry. I would sleep alone, keep my desire for kisses to myself, forget the notion of having our child.

  “Brann would know you would do anything to keep our child safe,” Collin said. “You would be at his complete mercy.”

  As I could be already. There didn’t need to be a child for the threat to be real. I would do anything to protect my husband. If Brann discovered just how much I cared for Collin already we would both be vulnerable.

  Chapter Six

  “The Campbell lands begin here.” Collin placed his finger on the map, over a blue swathe labeled Loch Tay.

  “Which side of the loch? Is our clan permitted to use it?” On our journey here I’d learned just how valuable bodies of water— and access to them— were when traveling in the Highlands.

  “Both. Campbell land surrounds it.” Collin traced the faint line running higgledy- piggledy around the lake and spread out in various fingers beyond. “Though the MacNabs, Menzies, and even Murrays lay claim to it too.”

  Meaning they felt it worth the risk of encountering Campbells to reach the water. We’d taken a rather circumventing route from my home in England to the Campbell holding, in part to avoid crossing the land of other hostile clans. And also to ensure that we had food and drink— fish and fresh water— the duration of our trip. For us the many lochs scattered throughout the Highlands had been the difference between life and death. Seeing no other sizeable bodies of water nearby, I could understand why those other clans laid claim to the loch as well.

  I sipped from the mug Bridget had brought with our breakfast while Collin finished the last of his porridge. We’d awoken this morning to discover that Brann was no longer in residence. He’d disappeared sometime during the night, and no one knew— or would admit to it, at least— when he would be back or what he was up to.

  His absence had done little to ease our strain, as three members of his council, his brother and two cousins, were still milling about. We’d spent the morning avoiding them while meandering the main floor of the castle, reacquainting ourselves with the place that had been our beginning. We had ended our tour here, in one of the small chambers adjoining the great hall, this one containing maps and having been used for plotting defensive strategy in times past.

  Collin’s finger continued its progress along the map. “To the south the border goes here, all the way to The Firth of Clyde. And further west, this belongs to the Campbells as well.” He outlined a finger of land jutting out a considerable distance from the main body of Scotland. “Loch Awe runs through Campbell lands here.” Collin’s hand moved north over the parchment. “And finally, the whole of this belongs to the Campbells as well.” He spread three fingers out across a large portion of the map.

  “That’s enormous.” I sucked in a breath, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the vastness of what he’d just shown me. I planted my palms on the table and leaned forward over the parchment.

  Like a goddess looking down upon my kingdom. That was hardly the case, and instead of feeling thrilled at what Collin had just shown and described to me, I felt terrified. People were spread out all over that land. Campbells, looking for a leader, someone to save them from poverty and displacement. Where and how were we even to begin?

  “There are some other Campbell clans in the Highlands as well, though not associated directly with your grandfather’s line.” Collin pointed out a few more places on the map, distant to those he had just described as ours.

  “Well, that’s something at least,” I said half-joking. “If we fail to save our Campbells, at least the name will still exist somewhere in Scotland.”

  “We won’t fail.” Collin glanced sideways at me and took a step away, instead of coming closer and placing his hands upon my shoulders as he used to. I made a pretense of studying the map a moment longer to get my bearings. While I finally understood the reasons for his reticence to be close, it didn’t lessen the hurt such actions caused. I needed him and his affirmations of love. He really was the calm to my storm and the comfort to my fear. I wasn’t certain I could do this without his arms around me as we stepped forward— blindly it seemed, in spite of all Collin was doing to help me understand my history and what we were up against.

  “So, that is the land Brann has been filling with sheep.” I pushed off the table and stood, arms folded as I thought. “It appears there should be plenty of room for both— people and their farms, and sheep.”

  “One would think so,” Collin said, bitterness in his voice.

  “Where is your land?” I asked, scrutinizing the map once more as I realized he had neither mentioned nor pointed out the MacDonald holdings.

  “Here.” More bitterness. Collin used his little finger to trace a slim line bordering a northwest corner of the Campbells.

  I said nothing but swallowed painfully as I stared at the thin strip of land labeled MacDonald. It was no wonder I had missed it, tiny as it was and sandwiched between the sprawling Campbells to the south and a good-sized Cameron parcel to the north.

  “Reconsidering your marriage vows?” Collin’s mouth twisted in an ugly, unfamiliar way.

  “I didn’t marry you for your land,” I said quietly, uncertain how to tame the beast I’d sensed growing within my husband since our arrival.

  “Nor for my money, I hope.” Collin snorted. “As I have none.” It was not an exaggeration. He’d used his last guinea to get us here.

  I turned away from the table and the troublesome record spread across it, the written evidence of the downfall of the clans who’d been Jacobite supporters. “You know I don’t care about either land or money.” I’d married Collin because I’d had to, because I was honoring a promise made long ago by my father— and my much younger self, it had turned out— and because I had believed it would provide a financial benefit for my stepmother. Those reasons didn’t really matter now. I wanted this marriage and Collin, no matter if he came only with the shirt on his back.

  “Well, that is good,” he said shakily. “As I’ve not much of either.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end and causing a sore temptation for me to reach out and smooth it down for him. To soothe away his hurt.

  But we had made another promise to each other last night, a vow to avoid touching one another, insomuch as possible. I’d never hated a promise more, or believed I would be so challenged to keep it, but at the end of Collin’s explanation, I had been unable to argue with the wisdom of such a decision.

  Anytime we came within a stone’s throw of one another, some sort of flame seemed to ignite between us, bursting to life with a passion Collin did not trust himself to control. If anything, I was less trustworthy than him in this regard.

  I kept my hands to myself, clenched in the folds of my skirt, and let his hair remain as it was.

  “Who determines the borders?” I asked, forcing the topic to safer waters.

  “Used to be the clan with the most weapons.” A wry grin made a brief appearance on his face. “In the past dozen years the boundaries have become more or less settled, changing only when the English take land from one clan and give it to another. That’s not as common now. Most of the Jacobites’ lands were forfeited immediately following the rebellion.”

  Including Collin’s father’s. So much for the change of topic.

  “Would you like to ride it?” Collin asked. “Some of it, anyway. We can’t cover the entire Campbell holdings in one day.”

  “Take our leave of this charming edifice?” The castle of gloom, I had come to think of it. I could hardly contain a grin.


  “Aye,” Collin said. “You ought to see the land and meet the people who live here.”

  Those who are left. “I’ll ask Bridget to pack a basket for us.” A ride to inspect the dismal state of affairs of my clan wasn’t exactly a picnic outing, but it almost felt like one. The prospect of being away, and at least somewhat alone with Collin, lifted my spirits as possibly nothing else could.

  * * *

  The sun was directly overhead before we made our first stop, near a worn-out-looking stone cottage with a thatched roof that likely invited more rain in than it kept out.

  Collin dismounted and left Ian’s horse to search out what he could on the moor. The ground here was not particularly flat but seemed fertile, lush with green and purple, albeit at a constant slope, a gradual climb toward the snow-capped mountains to the east.

  “You’re a good girl.” With affection I patted the neck of the mare I’d ridden. Though I’d been disappointed to realize that Collin intended to carry our no-touching policy so far that we would no longer ride together, I could not deny that I’d enjoyed the freedom of controlling my own horse and flying across the heather.

  Or the illusion of freedom, at any rate. Two of our Campbell guards— Moreiach and Quinn today— slowed their horses to a stop behind us. They’d kept pace all morning, staying just out of earshot so Collin and I might have a conversation, a constant reminder of the danger we were in.

  “Do you know who lives here?” I asked, leaning forward into Collin’s arms as he helped me dismount. At least he’d deigned that much contact appropriate and allowable.

  “Used to be Eithne and Gavin Campbell. I hope it is still the same.” Collin set me on the ground and promptly released me. “They were kind to me when I was here. Eithne and Gavin never had any bairns of their own. Gavin’s hands were crippled, so your grandfather sent me here to work for him, shortly after you’d left.”

  There were dozens of other stories between the lines he’d just spoken. Of a pain-filled and difficult time for both of us, and perhaps for this couple as well, who’d not been blessed with a child of their own. That Collin had found a place where he’d been treated kindly filled me with an instant liking for these people before I’d even caught first sight of the woman at the door.