Fighting For A Highland Rose (Defenders 0f The Highlands Book 1)

by Kenna Kendrick

  Their clothing interested her. She had grown up around soldiers, but the men in her father’s commands had always been equipped with standard weapons, uniforms, boots, and kit; even their hair was cut to a regulation length, and they were all clean-shaven. Any deviations from this standard pattern were either tacitly disapproved of or outright forbidden, depending on the strictness of the commander and the situation.

  In contrast, these Highlanders were dressed in a wide assortment of garments. The only thing standard appeared to be the plaid that every single one of them wore. This would be flung like a cloak around the shoulders, or sometimes laid across the knees for riding on a cold day, or wrapped decoratively over one shoulder and tied off at the hip. They tended to be dressed in leather and wool, low shoes, though some had high boots of better quality. Many had rifles and pistols, but even these were not standard, some longer, some shorter, and some with elaborate patterns worked into the metal.

  These were real men. Most of the soldiers she had grown up around had been young and fresh-faced, naïve lads overseen by slightly older and better-educated officers. In contrast, these Highlanders were grown men. There were no boys here. Every face she looked at bore signs of long travel in the outdoors. Their bodies were muscled with outdoor labour with the eyes of men who had seen things, not boys hungry for glory. What a difference to her old life and the weight of the change slowly settled as the days passed.

  She was engaged in these thoughts one afternoon when Murdo came up beside her on his horse. The men around gave back a little to leave them some privacy. He smiled, and she smiled back. That was all the greeting they needed.

  “How are ye?” he asked kindly.

  “Sore!” She immediately regretted complaining although he laughed.

  “Aye! It’s sair work riding day efter day but we shall tak’ a day soon, I think, tae scout out the land around us and look for signs o’ the pursuit. Then ye shall tak’ a break frae riding and so shall I! I willnae deny that I will be glad tae dae so!”

  “Are ye complaining about yer sair bum there, Murdo?” a gravelly voice spoke behind them, and they turned to see James riding up with a glint of amusement in his eye.

  “Dinnae mind me, Miss, I’m only teasing. I will be as glad as anybody tae rest up for a day once we get into the hills above Glen Ertick. There’s a guid space there where we can rest for a day or mibbe twa and then Murdo can rest his poor backside, aye, and I can an’ a’!” He gave a rakish laugh and rode away up the column, shouting on one of the men for any news from the scouting parties.

  “He’s in his element daeing this kind o’ thing,” Murdo shook his head fondly. “I tell him he’s an auld man and he shouldnae be out riding and fighting, but he just laughs and asks me where else he should be. ‘Until ye get a son, Murdo,’ he says ‘and I ken there ye hae an heir to the role o’ clan chief, I must be out wi’ ye tae mak’ sure ye dinnae get yersel’ killed!’ And tae be sure, if he hadnae been there at Inveraray it might o’ gone badly, and me wi’out an heir, weel...”

  He stopped as if suddenly realising the implication of what he was saying. She smiled at him, and he looked at her questioningly.

  “Perhaps you will have an heir soon Murdo?”

  “I’ll need a wife first,” he replied. They rode on together in silence.

  * * *

  Emily woke from a vague dream of fear and tension. Sweat soaked her undershirt and plastered her hair to her head. They had brought not nearly enough clothes for the journey, and the undershirt she slept in smelled distinctly the worse for not having been changed or washed since they had set out. When they stopped for a day’s rest, she would find water and wash their clothes. Perhaps that would cheer Alice up a little too? Emily was worried about her friend. She looked over at her now, curled tightly beneath the blankets taking long, even breaths.

  Suddenly Emily realised how much she desired to be out in the open air. The tent felt stuffy and close, and the horsey smell of their travelling clothes was stagnant in the air. Standing up she pulled on a tunic and riding skirt – now looking much the worse for wear – before hauling on her riding boots. Trying not to wake Alice, she pushed the tent flap open and stepped outside.

  Moonlight washed the glade in bright, white light. The moon was nearly full, and it was so bright that it cast long, clear-cut black shadows on the ground. All around her men were rolled in their plaids, sleeping. A few sat up around the fire, keeping watch. One of them glanced over, nodded, and went back to his conversation.

  She stretched, breathing deeply of the warm, fresh air. She would walk a little and stretch her legs. She began an aimless perambulation around the perimeter of the camp, keeping to the moonlit parts and avoiding the shadows. After a time she came to a gap in the encircling trees. Moonlight lit the grass, and she could hear running water. Without much thought, she walked in the direction of the water. The air was warm; insects chirred in the woodland around her and somewhere far off an owl hooted.

  She was almost at the stream when a figure started up out of the shadows.

  “Whae’s that?” A voice hissed, and in the moonlight, she caught the glint of a drawn blade. He emerged out into the light. It was Murdo.

  “Goodness, you frightened me! I had no idea you were there!” she whispered.

  “Ah, good. That means I’m daeing my job properly. But whit are ye daein’ out here at this time o’ night?”

  “I couldn't sleep. I felt suffocated in the tent and needed some air. Why are you watching at this particular spot?”

  “The noise o’ the burn,” he answered. “If anybody was tae try and sneak up on the camp, they’d maist likely tae come up here, where the water would mask the noise o’ their approach.”

  “Is there a danger of being attacked?”

  “Och, no. No’ the night. But we must tak’ precautions, nonetheless. Sit wi’ me?”

  They sat together on the dry greensward by the chattering stream. It was awkward, in a tight, pleasant kind of way. There had been little chance since the battle to spend any time together, and their loving words and passion of the night in the cave had been left untouched since they had met again. Now their awareness of each other thrummed between them like a charge. Taking a breath, she leaned into him, closing the small gap between them. He put his arm around her, stroking her hair. The feeling of safety and warmth filled her immediately, and she felt herself relax into his embrace.

  When she turned her face up to look into his, he lowered his mouth and kissed her. It was warm and gentle, but firm. She opened her mouth to his. As they kissed, deeper and faster, her hand found his cheek, exploring the rugged contours of his face, tangling in his thick hair and finding the unexpected softness of his neck. He found her throat and explored there, kissing softly down the exposed column of her neck; she gasped as his teeth gently caught her skin and held him close. The clean, animal scent of him was intoxicating, and she flushed, breathing deeply. He was stirring feelings she had never explored before, but knew, instinctively what she wanted to do. Reaching up she fumbled at the drawstring of her neck before his competent hands took over, deftly unlacing the leather thong holding the jerkin shut.

  He gave her a moment, gazing into her eyes with a slight question: her eyes responded with desire as he lifted the shirt over her head, his mouth exploring her breasts as his hands laid her shirt to one side. When his tongue found a nipple, she let out a low moan as a jolt of pleasure shot through her belly. Dropping her head back, her red hair flowed loosely down her back, glinting in the moonlight.

  She wriggled out of her skirt, giggling, and he laughed quietly as he fumbled with his own lacings. Soon they were able to lie down together on the grassy sward, and the light was bright enough to see all of him. He was magnificent, like no man she had ever seen in her life. The sight took her breath away. Her hands went to him, and she had a strong desire to touch all of him, put her hands everywhere, taste him and engulf herself in his body. It was her turn to explore his chest, b
elly, muscled legs and back, and of course, his perfect buttocks.

  He smiled at her passion and gasped as she reached down and touched the proof of his ardour. It was hot and firm, filling her hand in a very satisfying way. She observed with delight how his eyes rolled up, and his back arched with pleasure when she moved her hand across it.

  This was uncharted territory, and Emily felt light headed. She stopped, taking a breath, and he sat up on one elbow, holding her strongly across her back. His free hand caressed her hips, and she felt herself shift her legs to let the cool night air reach the heat between them. He caressed her belly, slipping his hand downward to find her fire; the feeling of it made her gasp and tremble. He moved confidently, careful even strokes, watching her face as she fixed her eyes on him. She did not know what was going to happen; she was climbing a wave, cresting a feeling of pleasure she had never felt before. It came to a point where she thought it could go no further, but as she moved her hips in a circular motion against him, she felt the wave grow to a higher degree until she almost burst with pleasure.

  There was only two of them. Nothing else existed in the world. Her eyes closed, and, unbidden, the image of that first time they had spoken came into her head. She saw him in the cave smiling at her, the firelight playing on his face. Then the wave finally broke.

  As the shimmering surf crashed through her body, she gave soft voice to her pleasure as he held her firmly. For a long moment, she floated in a warm and pleasant darkness before the world came slowly back into focus. She was lying in his arms, smiling up at him and opened her mouth to speak, but there were no words. When she looked down at his hips, she knew precisely what she wanted. With a strength that surprised them both, she pushed at him to make him lie back, and climbing up, leaned over him and looked down into his eyes.

  “Lass,” he whispered, “aye ye sure?”

  “I’m sure,” was all she replied before taking him inside herself for the first time.

  There was a sharp twinge of pain, unexpected amongst the pleasure, and she stopped for a moment, but then it was over, and a deep, satisfying feeling washed through her. Placing her hands on his chest, he gripped her hips with firm hands as she began to rock back and forth against his rhythmic thrust. This time the wave was different, deeper yet somehow less profound. She found that if she leaned forward at just the right angle, it intensified, and together, eyes locked, they built the wave again until it broke through both of them and they were filled to overflowing.

  Afterwards, as they lay together naked on the greensward by the stream, she slept.

  “Wake up, love,” he shook her gently. “Ye cannae sleep here.”

  She woke with a slight start. It was cold. The heat of her passion had warmed her, but now her skin pricked in gooseflesh. They laughed together as they dressed again. He had to continue his watch, and she returned to the tent shared with Alice for tonight at least. She kissed him before she left, the kiss lasting so long that it seemed they would both become inflamed and give in to their passion for a second time. But they resisted, and she slipped back through the camp to her tent. The men by the fire had all gone, except for one who barely even glanced at her.

  When she got back into her blankets, she fell almost at once into a deep and satisfying sleep.

  * * *

  Emily stretched like a cat and groaned with pleasure. Her body felt stiff in a pleasant way, and the first thing she was aware of was the smell of Murdo on her skin. She breathed deeply and glanced over to see Alice’s blankets empty. Bright sunlight was shining through a gap in the tent flap.

  She dressed quickly and stepped out, blinking into the morning sun.

  “Good day, Miss Emily!” A voice hailed her, and she turned to see Father Colum approaching with a cup in one hand and a platter in the other.

  “Ye hae slept late,” he said, “but I hae saved ye some of the breakfast bannock and here’s a cup o’ goat’s milk for ye an’ a’.”

  She looked at his kindly face and felt a rush of affection towards the old man. She took the food gladly and sat with him as she ate it by the fire.

  “We are not moving on today?” she asked with surprise.

  “No, today is tae be a day o’ rest. The scouts hae been sent out, and we shallnae move on until they come back wi’ their reports. ‘Tis a bonnie bit o’ country around here and nae doubt your Murdo will hope tae show ye a little of the land hereabouts ‘afore we hae tae move on again.”

  He was right. Not long after she had finished eating, Murdo came and found them beside the camp. She felt herself blushing as she looked at him; pride overtaking her embarrassment as she saw the spring in his step and the light in his eye, and knew the reason for them.

  “We hae a bonnie day ahead o’ us, Emily, How would ye like tae tak’ a walk up tae yon ridge?” He gestured up the slopes of the hill above where she could see a high point poking out above the trees.

  “It will be a pleasant walk, and ye can see some o’ the countryside. We’ll be daeing our part for the watch too since we can see a’ down the glen frae up there. Are ye game for it?”

  She was. Murdo told his father where they were going, and Emily thought James gave Murdo a rather black look, but when he turned to her, he was smiling.

  “Ye mak’ sure ye look efter my son up there! And the baith o’ ye, mak’ sure ye’re back ‘afore nightfall.”

  It certainly was a pleasant walk, but it was steep, and there was no track. It was rough going and they little time for conversation other than the practicalities of navigating the terrain. By the time they reached a little stream just below the ridge, the sun was high in the sky, and they were both hot and sticky with the climb. They stopped to drink from the stream. Emily felt exhilarated by the climb, and the spring woodland lifted her spirits wonderfully. She drank deeply and spluttered as she washed her face and hands in the cold water.

  “That reminds me,” she said, “I simply must wash out some of my clothes when we get back down to the camp. My clothes are beginning to smell.”

  He chuckled. “Aye, indeed, it’s hard tae keep yersel’ fresh on the road. But once we reach our homelands things will be different, ye’ll see. But hey, let us go on up tae the top now. We’re no far awa’.”

  He was right. A short scramble and they came out under the vast blue sky; the whole glen a tapestry below them, stretching off impossibly towards a hazy horizon. Far below, they could see their camp with little figures moving around and the smoke from the fires rising in the still air.

  “It’s as I thought,” he said. “There’s nae sign o’ any movement as far as the eye can see. Over them hills,” he pointed away to the right, “lays the road, and if they come, they will go that way, expecting us tae stop aff at the towns. They dinnae ken we are so well-equipped for travel in the wild. Well, that’s good, for it gies me the chance tae carry out a plan.”

  “Plan? What plan? What do you mean?”

  Reaching into a pouch at his belt, he drew out a small, square object that he concealed in his hand as he moved around in front of her. She watched him with disbelief as he sank down onto one knee before her and raised the little object up. It was a box. He snapped it open; held tightly in a setting of worn black velvet sat a gold ring. It was set with a small blue stone captured in an oval setting, the gold of the ring seemed to be veined with silver.

  She swayed a little feeling giddy before looking up from the ring and into his face.

  “Emily Nasmith,” he said, clearly and proudly into the warm spring air. “Will ye be my wife?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Her look said it all. “Oh, yes,” she gasped.

  She felt like she might faint, but he stood quickly, holding her tight, and after a moment, she felt stronger.

  “Sorry, I shouldnae hae sprung it on ye like that, but I couldnae resist.”

  They found an easier way back down the hill. In fact, she found it and scolded him gently for picking the hardest route up. Friendly teasing gave way to more
kisses, but the young lovers had to resist temptation for the sun was past its zenith, and they were both keenly aware that danger was ever present.

  They arrived back at camp none too soon.

  “Murdo, there ye are, thank goodness, and Miss Emily too!” It was Ewan, rushing up to them as they emerged arm-in-arm from the trees. The camp was in an uproar, with men running about and frantically packing.

  “Whit is it,” cried Murdo, “whit’s happened?”

  “It’s the pursuit,” replied Ewan. “I scouted out down the glen wi’ my men, and we found naething there, but on the way back we met wi’ some others whae had gone tae scout the road. They reported a large body o’ redcoats on horseback nearing the town at Kinlochetrick and riding hard. They sent one man back to report while the others stayed near. If the redcoats are at Loch Etrick and nearing the town, they’ll soon be able to swing round intae the glan itsel’, and we’ll need tae be awa’ long ‘afore that happens.”