A Merry Medieval Christmas Box Set

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Yes he'd been intimate with Moira, some four years earlier, it had been hurried and she'd been stiff and didn't seem to enjoy it. Now at eight and twenty, he understood it was more of a curiosity than actual emotions that day, but at the same time, the moment had instilled in him a deep caring for Moira. The depths of his feelings for Moira were so great that when their father had decided to betroth her to Ewan, his older brother, he'd become despondent.

  Touching the cold stone, he closed his eyes and formulated what his wish would be once he found the well. There was an emptiness in his gut that seemed to say he'd lost the chance at love. If the well had been there, it was now gone, never to be found.

  He backed away from the spot, suddenly not wanting to be there, as an eerie fog descended covering the ground. Through it he spotted the grey wolf, its’ amber eyes meeting his for a scant second. "True love is found not sought." The words echoed loud and clear in his head, as if someone shouted. He turned in a full circle, sword drawn to find he was alone.

  After mounting and searching for a few hours, Faolan headed back toward Catriona's home. He looked forward to seeing the sprite. Hearing whatever illogical challenge she'd bestow upon either him or Ian. His lips twitched at the devilish sparkle in her eye and the pursing of her lips whenever she'd say or do something that peeved her brother. The connection between the siblings reminded him of Ewan and himself. Although there were two male cousins who also lived in the Mackinnon keep, both younger, he and Ewan had a different type of bond.

  They often hunted together and practiced at swords. They only parried with each other as they were closely matched in skill and didn't have to worry overmuch about hurting one another. Although there had been times when they'd nicked a place or two. Faolan rubbed his bicep at the spot where Ewan had sliced through one day. His brother had dropped his sword and rushed to him even before Faolan had realized what happened.

  He chuckled softly remembering how he'd been afraid Ewan would pass out at the color draining from his face as he'd wrapped a strip of cloth around Faolan's bleeding arm. The wound had been quite deep, requiring being sewn up, and had kept him from the guard work for several weeks.

  Weeks, he spent enjoying the attention of the maids and other village woman who volunteered to nurse the wounded rake.

  Aye, he'd enjoyed plenty of women, all the while knowing one day he'd marry Moira and only with her have a family. He'd waited too long and now she was betrothed to Ewan.

  Faolan let out a breath. He'd head back to Skye. It was best he leave the Grant's home. Ask Catriona for a pardon from his word. He'd assure her of how much their intimacy had meant and then remove himself from the household. Although Ian, her brother had been more than a gracious host, it was wrong of him to remain in their home while seeking a future with another.

  In the distance he spotted Ian, the auburn hair flowing backwards as he rode toward him. The man didn't seem to see him as he looked to be out riding for pleasure and not with a destination in mind.

  Once he got closer, Faolan nodded at the green-eyed man who's resemblance to Catriona always caught him off guard.

  "Out for a ride to clear my head," Ian told him and let out a long breath. "I should be working. The harvesting before the winter has to be done. The stables prepared and the walls to the animal pens reinforced to sustain them through the colder months. Yet here I am." The man looked up to the sky. "Not sure what makes me so restless of late."

  "Perhaps a visit to the village and some willing wenches would do you good," Faolan told him with a wide grin. "It could rid you of it."

  Ian's mouth curved into a smiled. "Tried that already. Only worked for the moment." He let out a sigh. "I hired a couple men to come help, they will arrive on the morn." He eyed Faolan. "I could use another pair of hands."

  Of course he could not say no. The man had been generous to offer a place to live while he sought to find the elusive well, which in all probability did not exist at all.

  "Of course I will work and do what I can for the next few days. I am glad for a way to repay you for allowing me to stay in your home."

  "Repayment is not necessary," Ian said looking past him toward the forest. "Do you really think it exists?"

  It was not necessary for the man to be clear; Faolan knew he spoke of the well. "I am not sure what to think. A part of me thinks it does not, but tis only a figment of desperate people's imagination."

  The green gaze bore into his, instantly reminding him of his sister's similar but warmer gaze. "And you are desperate then?"

  "I was," Faolan replied honestly, "but now I am not so sure."

  Ian seemed to understand by the way he shook his head. "If my sister has anything to do with it, I pity you." The man laughed until his shoulders shook. "She is quite an unforgettable force."

  "How would you feel about her going so far from here?"

  "I would miss her terribly. I do not wish her gone from my life. But I want her to be happy, to be settled with a family and cared for. I wish it also for me, so that I can do the same. Catriona is a good woman, who cares more for others than for herself most times. Although she hides behind mischief and banter, she is rather loveable."

  Faolan could not help his lips from curving. "That she is."

  The two men rode back together talking mostly about what needed to be done at the house. Although Faolan knew he had to head back to Skye soon, a part of him didn't mind the delay. It troubled him that he looked forward to seeing Catriona, to hearing her voice and perhaps even to arguing with her about anything.

  By the time they finished for the day, Faolan was glad for the hot bath and meal. His body ached from clearing out stables and dragging logs and such to fortify the pens. Ian worked just as hard alongside, not seeming to tire.

  Although Faolan worked hard back in Skye, most of his days consisted of guarding and sword practice. Every so often he'd help with chores for the winter, but for the most part, he was not used to the hard labor of farm life.

  The evening meal was quiet, only he and Ian who ate fast as he planned to go into the village.

  Faolan looked up when Bessie entered with a large tureen of soup. "Where is Catriona?"

  "With Osla, she is not feeling well. The bairn may be early." Bessie ladled soup into both their bowls and spoke to Ian. "If it's the same to you, once I clean up the kitchen, I plan to go to see about Osla as well."

  "Aye, of course. Go now," Ian replied and motioned to the food. "I will put this away. Tell Osla I wish her well."

  The woman hustled away, looking relieved at being able to go immediately and see about the pregnant woman.

  His spoon midway to his mouth, Faolan froze. He'd not pulled out when making love to Catriona, but had spilled inside her. What if she was with child? He must have lingered too long lost in thought because Ian gave him a quizzical look.

  "Is something amiss?"

  "No. Just considering something," Faolan replied, not quite lying. He calculated how long it could take for Catriona to ensure she didn't carry a child. It could take weeks. Time he didn't have if he was to return before the first storm of winter. As it was, the wind was already frigid and the ride home would prove to be hard. He continued to eat only because he knew it was necessary, but all appetite was gone at considering if he left and Catriona was with child, she'd be left to raise the bairn alone.

  Thankfully Ian seemed deep in thought as well, so the silence stretched throughout the meal and until they cleared the table and took the bowls into the kitchen. Once everything was rinsed and the leftover soup covered, they walked to the front room.

  "Would you like to go into the village with me?" Ian asked placing a dirk into his boot. "Music and drink can help relieve whatever has you so quiet."

  The two things are what had gotten him into the current predicament. "If I am not mistaken that is why I find myself engaged to your sister." Faolan replied and let out a breath. "Yet I do find myself restless this night."

  "Very well, let us go an
d partake," Ian waved to the door. "I say we walk to keep from having to rouse the horses and such."

  The pub was lively, the drinks cold and wenches readily available. While Ian sat with two wenches on his lap, Faolan scowled into his drink, his mind on Catriona. She'd probably return to the house with Bessie, and they'd be abed by the time he returned. He wanted to see her, to discuss the possibility of there being a child from their joining. It was as if fate would not allow him to leave as he would remain until knowing for sure if Catriona carried a child or not. His entire life, he'd sworn never to father a bastard child. A child who through no fault of their own would be shunned by others and mistreated. No blood of his would ever suffer in such a way.

  Ian leaned across the table. "You'll have to find your way home alone. I am taking my leave for a bit."

  The man stood and the two women immediately grabbed onto his arms. Together they strolled toward the back of the inn, and up the stairs. Faolan drained his tankard and stood as well. He'd try to find Catriona and speak to her before she went to sleep.

  Faolan exited the pub.

  It was a dark night, only a sliver of the moon peeking from behind thick cloud cover, which made it hard to see. Faolan looked in several directions in an attempt to get his bearings. A moan sounded from the side of the building and he moved closer to see if someone was hurt. "Is someone there?" he asked and walked into the darkness, unable to see much more than what looked to be the hem of clothing. Just as he bent to get a better look, a hard knock to his back felled him to his knees. The second hit he barely felt as he collapsed face first onto the cold hard ground.

  Chapter Seven

  "Allow me to escort you home fair Catriona," Nevin McPherson stepped out of the darkness and bowed elaborately. "Tis too late for a beauty like you to travel alone."

  Catriona studied the attractive man and hitched her chin up a notch. "I know the way home quite well. Do not trouble yourself."

  Nevin was a local laird's firstborn son, a well know rake, who constantly made it known he wanted her. Not to marry of course, for she was beneath him. That she'd be a good fit for bed sport as he had put it on more than one occasion. As a younger man, she'd found him amusing, but as the years passed, he'd become more persistent and apprehension had taken the place of amusement.

  He looked past her to Osla's house. "What happens?"

  "Osla delivered her bairn. A bit early, but the babe is healthy." Catriona wondered if perhaps it was best to go back inside until Nevin left. Bessie had decided to remain behind and ensure all was well with Osla.

  "I will escort you home. I am heading in that direction as well," Nevin said and took her arm. "Come along, don't want to worry Ian now do you?"

  In all probability Ian was at the Pub. Catriona considered going there instead, but she'd ended up with a husband to be the last time she'd gone there and wasn't ready to see what type of trouble she could get into this night. Yet at the same time, Nevin escorting her home did not sit well, as said betrothed would be there. "I'd prefer it if you didn't. As you may have heard, I am betrothed and he is at my home now."

  "Is he?" Nevin's smirk brought a shiver of apprehension. "I would like to meet the man who took you from me."

  Catriona snatched her arm from his grip. "I was never yours Nevin. Now go along and let me be."

  He narrowed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Why must you always make it so difficult? Most wenches fall at my feet, more than willing to be taken. Yes many have hopes I'll marry them and turn them into the future laird's wife, but most come to me because they know it will be quite delightful."

  "If there are so many willing, why are you standing here in the dark bothering me?" Catriona took a step back and he closed the distance, his face a mere inches from hers.

  "Because I get what I want." His face hardened and jaw twitched as he ground his teeth. "Don't flatter yourself in thinking I will ever marry you, but have you I will. I'd prefer if it happened before you marry."

  "Never!" Catriona turned on her heel convinced now it was best to go back inside Osla's home. But Nevin wasn't about to be put off. He grabbed Catriona around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides with one arm and covering her mouth with the other. She kicked and bit his palm, but other than a ripe curse, he did not release her.

  Nevin dragged her to a waiting horse, and then threw her to the ground. Pinning her with his knee, he first gagged her and then tied her wrists and ankles. Both were panting by the time he was done as she fought him every step of the way.

  The idiot planned to take her off somewhere and have her. Catriona stared wide-eyed toward the village as he threw her over the horse then climbed on behind her. She laid on her stomach over the horse, her head hanging down on one side and feet the other. It was very uncomfortable and with every jolt and bump along the way she became angrier. Once the man untied her, she planned to scratch his eyes straight out of his face.

  Nevin directed the horse toward the forest and Catriona could not help but think of Faolan and how he'd made love to her in the same woods. It would be very different this time as she planned to not allow Nevin to take her. Somehow she'd manage to get away from him. No matter what it took.

  Faolan dragged his heavy eyes open. It was still dark, but the sky seemed to have lightened up just a bit. He was bound, his hands were tied together in front of his body. Whoever hit him had also relieved him of his coin pouch and shoes. He blew out a breath and slumped. Thankfully, they'd not been interested in his tartan; else he'd frozen to death before coming to.

  "Aye there sir. Do you require help?" An older man stood unsteadily weaving side to side by the front of the pub's wall. "Seems ye got yourself in a wee bit of trouble." The inebriated man laughed and shook his head. "Robbed and tied, I bet." He walked in an unsteady gait to him and sat on the ground by Faolan's feet.

  "Have you seen Ian Grant?" Faolan asked the man, who busied himself untying the restraints.

  "Nay, not in a while. Probably still upstairs, I'd say." Finally the man untied his hands and Faolan flexed then to get the circulation going into the stiff digits. He got to his feet and walked to the front of the building. It had to be quite late by the empty village and lack of noise. He turned to the drunken man. "Much appreciated. I will go home now and seek my bed."

  The drunk gave a shaky one handed wave and stumbled toward where Faolan assumed was his home. He considered that without a horse, it meant walking home in stocking feet. Damn Ian's idea to walk instead of taking their horses. Faolan muttered soft curses as he trekked to the house.

  Everything was dark and the rooms silent when Faolan made it home. He rushed to the fireplace and started a fire. While waiting for the flames to warm the room he rubbed his hands down his arms and jumped in a circle on his numb feet. When he finally warmed up enough, he went to the kitchen and put a kettle onto the hearth to heat up water.

  He went to his chamber and changed into dry clothing and warm stockings, his feet finally coming to life.

  In the kitchen, once again he wondered where everyone was. Perhaps things with the woman Osla had taken longer, problems with the bairn. He crossed himself at thinking that the child could have passed.

  There was noise at the front door and he went to greet whoever entered. Bessie let out a gasp and blinked at him. "Mister Faolan, you startled me." She shivered. "Tis quite cold out there, seems to me winter is fast approaching." She hurried to the kitchen and straight to the hearth. "Oh bless you for having the fire going. It's perfect, so warm in here and the water hot for tea." She continued talking as she went about preparing tea for them both. "The bairn and mother are fine, so I decided to come home and spend the night in my own bed. Besides, Osla's mother is right next door if anything comes to be."

  Faolan frowned. "So Catriona is not with you?"

  "Heavens no, she came home hours ago. Is she not in her chamber?"

  "I had not thought to check," Faolan replied as a tingle of apprehension crawled up his spine. "I was robbed
in town, woke up with a knot on my head and no coin purse."

  She gave him a concerned look. "I bet it was those Ogilvy boys. The rascals are always up to something. Once daylight comes, I'll go see their father. He will put the fear in them until they return what's yours."

  Faolan nodded absently and headed out of the kitchen. He climbed the stairs two at a time and hurried to Catriona's bedroom. The door was open to an empty room with no fire in the hearth and an unoccupied bed.

  "Catriona?" he walked in and immediately was assaulted by the sweet fragrance she wore. He inhaled and walked to an adjoining doorway. It was locked. He then left the room and went to the one next to it. It was simply furnished and had some clothes neatly folded on the bed. If he had to guess, he assumed it was Bessie's room.

  He went back downstairs to find Bessie drinking tea and nibbling on a piece of bread. "Catriona is not here."

  "What?" Bessie jumped to her feet, the teacup falling sideways, but neither of them paid any heed to the spilling contents. "Are you sure?"

  "Aye, I checked her bedchamber, it is unoccupied. The bed is empty and the hearth without a fire."

  Bessie rushed from the room. "Catriona!" She flew up the stairs and into Catriona's bedroom with Faolan on her heels. Finding it empty she went to hers and on past to Ian's. "She sometimes goes to Ian's room to wait for him to come home. They talk into the night before she stumbles to her own bed." Bessie pushed the door open and once again the room was empty.

  "What about yours?" She asked her eyes round.

  Faolan lifted a brow. "I changed clothes in there, she was not in my room." Nonetheless the woman insisted on checking and became even more distraught when it too proved empty.

  "We must find Ian," Bessie rung her hands together. "She's been taken. That is the only explanation. She left much earlier than I heading straight here."

  Faolan wanted to shake the woman. "Why would she be walking home alone in the dark? She should have waited for you."