Highlander’s Buried Identity (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Shona Thompson

  Finlay suddenly changed his grip, holding her hands up against the wall with one of his own, while his other hand travelled down her side and onto her buttocks, gripping tight. Even through the fabric, Sine could feel Finlay’s blunt nails threatening to dig into her skin. She hitched her leg up around Finlay’s hips, giving him more room to move against her.

  Sine felt Finlay move, his lips trailing kisses down her jaw and eventually, her neck, and she tilted her head to the side. Finlay peppered kisses there, resisting the urge to bite down only by moving lower, his lips brushing over the mounds of her breasts as she heaved.

  Sine couldn’t hold back the desperate, hitched moans as Finlay lavished every part of her body with attention. She wanted nothing more than to stay like that with him forever, the two of them rocking against each other until they had found their completion. But suddenly, Finlay was away from her, cold air hitting her chest and making her skin get covered with goose bumps.

  Sine watched him carefully, chest still heaving in such an inviting way that Finlay had to look away.

  “What are ye doing?” Sine demanded. Her lips were cherry red, kissed and bitten almost to the point of bruising. There was a flush high in her cheeks that made Finlay wonder if he could make her flush in other parts of her body, too, under her dress.

  It was a dangerous train of thought, and he knew it. He couldn’t be with Sine; he couldn’t be what Sine needed—no matter how much they were attracted to each other. It simply wasn’t meant to be, he knew, and the two of them would simply have to live with that.

  “Forgive me,” Finlay said, and Sine didn’t fail to notice how he sounded ruined, voice raspy and heavy with lust. “I cannae…I must go.”

  It was all the explanation Finlay gave her before disappearing back into the castle, hands shaking and head buzzing from something else than alcohol.

  Sine collapsed against the wall, trying to catch her breath before she would have to head back inside.

  She tried to ignore the hot wetness between her legs as she walked back inside, and with it, the thoughts of her body opening up for Finlay so easily. He had rejected her. She shouldn’t pine after him, and she certainly shouldn’t be thinking about what she would let him do to her, even when she wasn’t drunk.

  The moment she entered the hall, her father’s eyes fell straight on her, and she hoped that he would blame her flush on the alcohol.

  “Ach, there she is!” Laird Duncan exclaimed. “Sine, a bhobain, come join me.”

  Sine walked reluctantly to her father. It was never a good sign when the man was that joyous, as it meant that one of his terrible plans had been put in motion and was about to become reality. Most of them had to do with Sine’s future, something that she didn’t appreciate one bit.

  “Ye must all be wondering why we are having this feast,” Laird Duncan said. “Weel…mah Sine is a woman now. As much as I hate seeing my daughter grow up so fast, I ken that she is a woman, and a woman needs a man!”

  Sine’s suspicions were immediately confirmed. The feast was to celebrate her marrying some laird, then; marrying someone who wasn’t Finlay, she thought, but then she took that thought and shoved it as far down into her mind as she could. Finlay didn’t want her, so she wouldn’t want him.

  “Seoras, laird of clan Craig, is on his way here as we speak,” the laird continued. “As ye all ken, clan Craig is a powerful clan. They’ll make good allies, and he’ll make a good husband for my daughter. He’ll be here in two days if his travel here goes as expected, and he will be marrying mah daughter within a fortnight!”

  Sine had no idea that she would be married so soon. She knew that that had always been her fate, but to be facing it so soon was a shock that she knew she couldn’t get over any time soon. The hall erupted in cheers, but she could only stand there, trying to bite back the sobs that were threatening to escape her throat. It would do no good, crying in front of all those people, especially over something they considered so joyous.

  It didn’t matter what she wanted. All that mattered was what was good for the clan, and now that Finlay was out of her way, she would be able to fulfil her duties as expected.

  The only problem was that when she caught sight of Finlay, he looked even more shocked than she was. He was trembling, and she had never seen him so pale before. He even looked smaller than usual, as if he had caved in on himself, and it took her a moment to realise that he was, in fact, falling onto the floor, unconscious.

  The moment Finlay had heard the name Seoras, laird of clan Craig, he knew that Sine was going to be married not to a man, but to a monster; a monster that he, too, knew rather well.

  The more Finlay thought about what would happen in two days, the more his mind began to spin out of control. He wondered if Seoras would recognize him after all these years, he wondered if he would say or do something about it. He wondered if Sine would be safe with him as her husband, or if he would end up killing her at the slightest inconvenience, as he was prone to do.

  As he thought about everything that troubled him, Finlay found himself unable to see, his head fuzzy as though it were stuffed with cotton. The next thing he knew, he could hear Sine’s voice washing over him, worried and demanding to know if he was alright, but he could not reply.

  He could do nothing but lie there on the floor, the only thought in his mind being his father’s blood on his hands.

  Chapter Nine

  “Ye always worried verra much for other people.” Mrs. Crannach had drawn Sine a bath, pouring the cold water over her as Sine shivered, trying to stop her body from flinching away from its chilly touch. “Sometimes tae much. Tis nae good worrying about the lad noo. He’s just fine.”

  Sine shook her head, another shiver running down her spine as the morning air hit her wet skin. “Ye saw him…he was pale as a ghost! He fainted right in my hands, Mrs. Crannach.”

  “Aye, that he did.” Mrs. Crannach helped Sine out of the water and quickly helped her dress. “He had a little too much to drink, now he’s fine.”

  “Have ye seen him?” Sine was grateful for the clothes on her back, but she was even more grateful to hear that Finlay was alright. She hadn’t seen him ever since the previous night, when he had collapsed in the middle of the feast and had been carted away by the other clansmen. The Duncan clan’s healer was one in whom Sine had faith, a man of vast knowledge and experience; Artair Granddagh. Still, Sine’s thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Finlay, as she wondered what had happened to him. Surely, it couldn’t have been just the drink; Sine had seen him drink before, and he had never been a lightweight by any means. It must have been something else that sent him tumbling down onto the wooden floor of the castle—perhaps a sickness or weakness that neither of them had known existed.

  “I saw him earlier this morning, bright and early. Poor lad didn’t get a wink of sleep. He was up emptying his guts all night,” Mrs. Crannach said. “Some good breakfast, and he’ll be good as new, I promise ye.”

  Sine perched herself on the edge of her bed, her gaze fixed at the horizon outside of the window, as Mrs. Crannach cleaned up the aftermath of Sine’s bath.

  “Ye like the lad.”

  It was more of a statement than a question, and it took Sine by surprise. She looked at Mrs. Crannach, who was looking right back at her, a small, knowing smirk playing on her lips. Sine looked like a fish out of water, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly as she tried to find something to say, anything that would rebut Mrs. Crannach’s words. The flush on her skin, though, turning her face redder by the second, wasn’t helping her case.

  Did Sine really like Finlay? She thought back to the little time they had spent together, and her heart began to race. She pictured him alongside her as she explored the land around the castle, Finlay always by her side, no matter how much he’d rather be alone in his rooms. She thought about all the times he had helped her with the sick children every time she visited the healer, every time he had cracked a lopsided smile, every time his m
op of ginger hair fell over his eyes, and he had to push it back. She thought about those mismatched eyes, and how Finlay had become comfortable enough around her to not hide them anymore.

  Sine had known for weeks that she was attracted to Finlay; she wondered how anyone with eyes could resist him, with his firm, built body and his strong, angular features. She had no idea, though, that whatever she felt for him ran deeper than that; and hearing so from Mrs. Crannach gave her pause.

  She loved him. She loved his smile; she loved his gaze; she loved the way he was opening up to people. She loved the way he looked at her sometimes, exasperated but also fond, and the way he let her pierce through the armour that he had built around him for his entire life.

  She loved him in a way that she knew she could never love anyone else.

  Sine only realised that she was clenching her fists when she felt the sting of her fingernails in her palms. Her breath came in shallow bursts, but she tried to swallow the rising panic in her chest. Were anyone to find out that she truly was in love with Finlay, there would be no hiding it from her father; and once her father knew, she would be dead.

  “I…I do. Of course, I do. As a friend,” Sine mumbled, words tumbling out of her mouth before she could fully form them. “He is a good man, and he’s been very kind to me, so I can only try tae be kind to him too. Besides, I’ll be getting married soon…tae a lovely man, I’m sure. My father assures me that Laird Craig is the perfect husband for me.”

  Sine didn’t know if her words sounded like as much of a lie to Mrs. Crannach as they did to herself, but she was prepared to deny any accusation of having feelings for Finlay. If her father found out, he would never allow them to see each other again, that much was certain.

  Mrs. Crannach simply observed Sine for a few moments, hands on her hips as she tapped her foot. In the end though, she said nothing about Sine’s lie, but Sine was smart enough to figure out on her own that Mrs. Crannach did not believe her for one second.

  “I’ll go make Finlay some parritch, and ye’ll have some, tae,” Mrs. Crannach said, as she walked to the door. “It’ll keep ye both strong.”

  Once Sine could no longer hear Mrs. Crannach’s footsteps in the hallway, she stood up and rushed to the Finlay’s room next door. With a gentle knock, she entered the room and saw Finlay lying on the bed, looking better than he had the previous night, but still paler than usual. His mop of red hair was plastered onto his face, the night sweat giving his skin a glistening sheen.

  “What are ye doing here?” Finlay asked, once he saw Sine. “Ye cannae be here. What if someone sees ye?”

  “I cannae come visit my guard?” Sine asked, as she closed the door behind her. She leaned against the wood, not daring to step further into the room. “I was worried, Finlay. Ye looked as good as dead last night. I thought…I worried that something happened, that ye fell ill or…”

  Sine’s words trailed off, and she took a deep breath to calm her trembling. The mere thought of Finlay dying was enough to shake her to the core. Even if her father would manage to force her to marry Laird Craig, despite her intentions to refuse, being forbidden to marry Finlay was still different from losing him entirely.

  Finlay seemed to know that Sine was upset, despite her best efforts to conceal it. He stood up and walked to her, though he didn’t get too close.

  Sine wasn’t expecting Finlay to suddenly stand, dressed only in his bed-garment. Her gaze drifted to his thighs—strong and bulkier than she had imagined, with a smattering of coarse red hair—before she hastily tore her gaze away.

  Finlay himself seemed to have forgotten that he was barely dressed, and he backed away from Sine, grabbing the sheet from his bed and wrapping it around his hips in a hurry. The two of them looked at each other, each unaware of their own blush that made them look like a pair of lobsters, before Finlay thought it was wiser to pretend it never happened.

  “I’m fine,” he said. ‘Noo, away wi’ ye. Ye’ll get us both in trouble.”

  Despite Finlay’s best attempts to forget what had just happened, Sine didn’t find it as easy. Finlay’s bare thighs were burned into her brain, and she could only imagine what was under his bed-garment. Had he moved a little differently, or raised his arms a little more, she wouldn’t have to imagine.

  She flushed even harder as she thought about sitting on those thighs, firm and hard under her, as Finlay thrust into her. She thought about raking her fingernails all over his exposed flesh, curious hands exploring every inch of his body that she could and couldn’t see. Sine wondered if Finlay would be the same when she would be under him, stoic and quiet, or if he would be more vocal, allowing her to draw moans and cries out of his lips.

  Perhaps he would have to force himself to be quiet, so as to not alert the entire castle to their antics. Perhaps he would bite down on her shoulder to keep quiet and –

  “Sine!” It was the shout that brought Sine back to reality, and she glanced at Finlay, who was none the wiser about what was going on in her head. “Did ye hear me? I said, go before someone sees ye here.”

  “It’s alri’!” Sine assured him, as she finally mustered the courage to walk to the bed and sit down next to him, their thighs almost touching through the many layers of fabric between them. “The only person who might come here is Mrs. Crannach, and…well, we cannae hide anything from her. She kens how I feel about ye.”

  “How ye feel?” Finlay asked. His heart began to beat so fast that he was afraid it would jump out of his chest. There was only one thing that Sine could mean when she spoke like that, and if it were true, then it was enough to make his heart give out on him.

  It was a cruel twist of fate—having Sine right in front of him, confessing her love, and Finlay being unable to reciprocate. His love for her burned like fire in his veins, had done so for weeks. When he kissed her, she felt like home; she felt like his destiny.

  Finlay didn’t believe in destiny though, and he didn’t believe he could ever be with Sine. He was a weak man, who had never stood up to his enemies, and so his enemies had devoured everything he held dear.

  He couldn’t let that happen to Sine.

  “I dinnae want tae marry the laird!” Sine continued. “I thought about it plenty, and I’ll tell my father. He cannae force me, Finlay. He can try, but I would sooner throw myself in a loch than marry that man, ye hear? I’d rather die than be wi’ him.”

  “Aye,” Finlay said. “Death would be a mercy compared to being married to someone like him. Ye cannae be with me, Sine, but ye cannae marry the laird either. It’s good ye dinnae want to. We’ll find a way to stop yer father from forcing ye to marry the laird; that I promise ye.”

  Sine gave Finlay a frown, curious and demanding. “How do ye ken what the laird is like?” she asked. “Have ye met him?”

  “Aye.” It was all that Finlay said, and all that Sine needed to know. The two of them remained silent for an excruciatingly long time—Sine waiting for him to elaborate and Finlay refusing to speak.

  Eventually, Sine was the one to speak first, but she didn’t press him for details.

  “Ye willnae have me marry Laird Craig, and ye willnae have me marry ye. What then?” Sine asked, standing up and folding her arms around her. “What about last night? Did that mean nothing tae ye?”

  Finlay fell silent for a few long moments, and Sine made her way to the window, putting as much distance between the two of them as possible. She could have sworn that Finlay felt the same way about her as she did about him. She had felt it when they had kissed outside the castle; she had known from the way that Finlay touched her. And yet there he was, telling her that she should marry another man.

  “What happened last night?” She wasn’t wrong, nor was she crazy; she knew that Finlay loved her too, and he was only acting oddly because of whatever it was that had happened to him the previous night, when he collapsed in front of the entire clan.

  “Ye ken what happened,” Finlay said. “Ye were there.”

  “I dinnae
ken anything!” Sine knew that she could be difficult, but sometimes Finlay crossed that line and became downright infuriating. She wished she could pry his head open and see his thoughts, that she could somehow find out what he was thinking. He never told her, not even when she would try to force it out of him. “All I ken is that ye looked like ye saw a ghost when my father talked about Laird Craig. I thought that it was because I would be getting married. I thought ye didnae want me to marry the laird, but here we are, and ye are telling me to marry him as if ye couldnae care less! What is it, then? What is the truth, Finlay?”

  Sine hadn’t realised that she was shouting by the end of her speech. For a moment, she listened in the quietness of the room to see if she could hear any footsteps approaching the door, but there were none. She turned to face Finlay, who hadn’t uttered a single word. Finlay wasn’t even gracing her with a look, his gaze glued onto the wooden floorboard between his feet instead.

  Sine could have screamed her throat raw, yelling at Finlay until he said something, anything; what good was it, though? If Finlay didn’t want to talk to her, then she shouldn’t have to force him.