Highland Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque

  She turned away from him, looking back to the wall. She sniffled, then she coughed, and the tears began to come.

  “You need not explain,” she said hoarsely. “You do not owe me anything, Magnus. I am only a woman who came to you for help. How you have lived your life is none of my affair, so you owe me nothing. But I cannot be a party to what you do. I will find my own way home to Navarre, without your help, so you can return to the Cal and resume your life. I am sorry to have troubled you.”

  He watched her closely as she spoke. “Ye dinna trouble me,” he said. “It was no trouble at all. But I made a promise tae ye and I intend tae keep it.”

  “What promise?”

  “Tae help ye earn money.”

  She closed her eyes, covering her mouth when she coughed. “You need not concern yourself,” she said. “I will make it on my own.”

  She was being stubborn. He understood stubborn people because he was one of them. Under normal circumstances and with anyone else, he would have walked away. In fact, he wouldn’t have even made the effort to go after her. But this was the woman who had forced him away from his selfishness. In just a few days, she had done more for him, and showed him more, than anyone else had in his lifetime. He wasn’t so arrogant and stuck in his ways that he didn’t see that.

  She was the key to a door on the future he could never have imagined.

  He couldn’t walk away.

  “I know ye can make it on yer own,” he said quietly. “There is no doubt in my mind that ye can do anything ye set out tae do. I’ve never met anyone like ye, Diantha. Ye have a strength in ye that is beyond anything I’ve ever seen in a woman. I knew the moment ye came tae me that I was unworthy of ye.”

  She kept her face turned to the wall, but he could see a single tear trickling down her cheek. It tugged at his heart, strangling him, because he wanted very much to comfort her. But he couldn’t.

  They had to get a few things straight first.

  “I’m sorry I’m not who ye thought I was,” he said. “But I’ve lived my life with no regrets. I’ve worked hard tae achieve a great deal in the face of adversity. Ye must remember that I’m a man who belonged tae no one, a duke’s bastard who was used as a pawn and then tossed aside when I no longer served a purpose. I have no one to answer tae other than myself. Do ye understand that?”

  Another tear trickled from her eye but she didn’t reply. He continued.

  “The Ludus Caledonia saved my life,” he said. “I willna apologize for the life I’ve lived there, but I will explain it tae ye so ye understand. Every coin I earn is in defiance of a father who never gave me anything. Every cheer from the crowd is praise telling me that I mean something tae someone, and every woman I take tae my bed has been the assurance I’ve needed tae believe that I’m worthy. Mayhap that is wrong of me, or dishonorable, but it’s the truth. I’ve done what I needed tae do for myself. I’m the most selfish bastard ye’ll ever meet, and I’m not ashamed of it.”

  By this time, Diantha’s eyes were open and she was looking at him. “I suppose if you are going to be something, then you might as well be proud of whatever it is you are,” she said. “As I said, you needn’t explain anything to me. I simply do not want to be a part of it.”

  He shook his head, his eyes glimmering at her in the weak light. “Not ye,” he said. “Ye’re too good for the likes of me and everything about me. Do ye not understand? Ye’re an earl’s daughter, an honorable and beautiful woman the likes of which I never thought would even speak tae me. I’m so unworthy of ye, Diantha, but since I met ye, I’ve come tae see a kind, compassionate, and sweet woman I’d give the world tae be with. I’ve never felt that way before about anyone. I always thought I knew what I wanted and it dinna include a woman in my life. But ye…ye’ve made me reconsider that.”

  Diantha stared at him a moment before looking away. The tremble in her lower lip was growing worse.

  “You’re a beautiful, intelligent, and vibrant man, Magnus,” she said hoarsely. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I will admit that I thought you could do no wrong. You were kind and generous with me, and I put you on an altar like something to be worshipped because you were my savior. You saved me from a horrible life at Culroy. I wanted you to be perfect, but it was my mistake for expecting you to be flawless.”

  “It’s hard when those ye think well of fall from their perch,” he murmured. “I dinna mean tae fall, Diantha, but I canna change what I’ve done in the past. Men have pasts and women do, too. I’m not as perfect as I want people tae believe. I know I have my faults. But I suppose that is difficult for ye tae understand because ye have no faults at all. Ye are perfect.”

  Diantha looked at him a moment, eons of untold longing in her eyes. There was much she wanted to say and couldn’t. After a moment, she simply looked away.

  “Please go,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “There is nothing more to say, Magnus.”

  He wasn’t moving. “If ye wish it, I will, but I must ask ye a question first,” he said. “Will ye answer truthfully?”

  She stiffened. “I will not lie if that is what you are suggesting.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m suggesting,” he said. “I simply want a truthful answer.”

  “Then ask.”

  “Do ye feel something for me?”

  Her eyes opened but she didn’t look at him. For the longest time, she simply stared at the wall, unblinking.

  “Why do you ask?” she finally said.

  He could hear the pain in her voice. “Because if ye dinna, ye wouldna be so upset about this. About me. Please, Diantha…tell me what ye feel.”

  She turned to him once more, her face a mask of confusion, of defiance, and of surrender. She sighed heavily but ended up coughing, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “I was proud to be your friend,” she said. “I was proud to tend your home. I was proud of you.”

  “Proud enough tae love me?”

  She blinked and her eyes filled with a lake of tears. She looked away once more. “I will not love a man who has let every woman in Edinburgh taste him.”

  “Could ye love a man who swears ye’ll be the only woman for him from this moment on, for as long as he lives?”

  Her head jerked to him, her eyes wide. She was looking for any hint of jest in his expression, any suggestion that he was simply telling her what she wanted to hear so he could have his way in all things. But she didn’t see that at all. Magnus’s expression was open, honest…

  Vulnerable.

  “You asked me how I feel,” she whispered. “Don’t you even know?”

  His hand, which he’d kept away from her since she recoiled, lifted. He held it out to her. “Nay,” he said. “I can only guess. Will ye please tell me the truth?”

  Diantha looked at his hand, tears filling her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. He wanted to feel her flesh in his, but she wasn’t going to give in.

  Not yet.

  “I…I adore you,” she whispered. “But I adore someone who does not exist.”

  “How do ye know unless ye let me try?”

  She sniffled, wiping at her cheeks. “I do not expect you to change for me, Magnus. I do not want us both to be disappointed.”

  He was still holding his hand out, still begging her to take it. “Ye must let me try,” he murmured. “Diantha, ye make me want tae be a better man. Will ye not even let me try?”

  She was still wiping her cheeks. “You haven’t yet told me how you feel.”

  “Isna my presence here proof of that?”

  He had a point, but she wasn’t going to accept it. She wanted to hear it from his own lips. “You made me tell you how I feel,” she said. “Tell me or I will not go with you.”

  Magnus kept his hand up, outstretched to her, but he was struggling with his reply. He finally grinned, e
mbarrassed.

  “I’ve never had tae tell anyone what I feel,” he said. “No one ever cared enough tae ask.”

  “I’m asking.”

  He pondered his answer for a moment. “I told ye that ye make me want tae be a better man,” he said. “Ye’re kind and compassionate and genuine. Ye willna take what ye havena earned. Ye’re as beautiful as a new sunrise. Ye’re a woman of unusual strength and I told ye that I’m unworthy of ye, but I want tae be. I’ve never had a woman whose respect I so badly wanted. What do I feel? I dunna know yet, but I know I dunna want tae be without ye. Whatever I’m feeling, I want it tae grow. I want tae be the man ye thought I was because I want tae make ye happy. Does that tell ye enough or must I go on?”

  He had explained himself well enough without really giving her a direct answer. But for Diantha, it was enough to ease her wounded heart. She wanted so badly to believe him because he seemed truly repentant. But she knew it would probably be difficult for him to change his ways.

  From what she’d heard, she wasn’t entirely sure he could commit to one woman.

  Still…she couldn’t refuse him because whatever she was feeling for him seemed to demand forgiveness. The feelings were precious and fragile, but oh so glorious.

  She couldn’t cast them off so easily.

  “I hope I am not making a mistake,” she said after a moment.

  A hopeful smile came to his lips. “I swear I’ll try my hardest so ye never regret it.”

  Diantha thought about that. Then she sighed faintly and lifted her hand, putting it into his palm. He lifted it to his lips, kissing it sweetly. It was a kiss of hope, of implied promises for the future.

  Never had a kiss meant more.

  “Let me take ye home,” he whispered.

  Stiff, sore, sick, and achy, Diantha shifted from her seated position as he held her hand and helped her rise. Once she was on her feet, she put both hands on his face, forcing him to look at her.

  For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Magnus didn’t try to touch her or hold her because this was her moment. She was drinking him in, deciding if he was worth the risk. After a moment, her dark eyes glimmered, just a little.

  “You are still the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” she murmured.

  He smiled faintly. “I’ll make ye a promise, Diantha,” he said. “I canna erase the past, but I can make a promise for the future. From this day forward, ye’ll be the only woman for me, Diantha Marabella Silva y de Mora. I swear that tae ye on my honor as a warrior of the Ludus Caledonia.”

  A weary smile spread over her lips. “Hearing you say my name like a Highlander makes me think that you mean it.”

  “Did I say it right?”

  She laughed softly. “Beautifully,” she said. Then she was forced to quickly lower her head and sneeze. “I fear I have caused you much trouble, Magnus. I hope you think I am worth it.”

  It was his turn to put his hands on her face, forcing her to look at him. He studied her big soulful eyes, her red nose, her lush and dreamy lips. His gaze drifted over everything about her, the fine lines, the contours.

  “Strange,” he said. “I can honestly say that I’ve seen many women, but I never really looked at them. What I mean is that I’ve never looked into their eyes. I’ve never stopped long enough to care about anything other than myself, but now…I see ye, Diantha. Ye’re the only woman I’ve ever really looked at.”

  Diantha was quickly forgetting her hurt, even though she was trying to keep some measure of self-protection up. But with Magnus, it was so easy to let it all go because she believed him.

  She wanted to believe him.

  “What do you see when you look at me?” she whispered.

  A light came to his eyes. “Everything I want tae be.”

  With that, his mouth slanted over hers. She tried to pull away, given that she was sniffling and ill, but his big arms went around her and she was lost. Magnus kissed her fully, deeply, tasting everything about her in a way he’d never tasted anyone before. It was an awakening for him, acquainting himself with a woman who, in two days, had taught him everything he wasn’t and everything he wanted to be.

  He wanted to discover more about her.

  He wanted to discover everything about himself through her.

  They had the rest of their lives to do that.

  “Come along,” he murmured against her lips, finally releasing her. “Let me take ye home.”

  Diantha was so overwhelmed by his kiss that she stumbled as he tried to lead her away. Magnus quickly realized that she was cold and stiff, and he let her go long enough to remove the cloaks he was wearing, both of them, and put them around her, fastening them tightly.

  It was his first lesson in thinking of someone other than himself.

  He’d learned it by nearly losing something more precious than he could possibly comprehend.

  Part Three

  ET A TRIBUS MILITIBUS

  (A CLAN OF WARRIORS)

  Chapter Fifteen

  The day was bright, but not for long. The storms of autumn were beginning to show themselves, and the Cal had experienced two major rainstorms in as many weeks. The shutters to the cottage were open but Diantha kept a close watch on the sky, prepared to close the shutters against the rain at any moment.

  Magnus was at the Fields of Mars, training with his fellow fighters, while Diantha was making curtains for the windows with oiled canvas she’d obtained from a woman who came to the Ludus Caledonia now and again, selling her wares.

  Diantha had paid for it with her own money. She’d earned quite a bit of it teaching reading and writing to a few of the more advanced and worldly warriors. Her two prize pupils were Tay and Aurelius, although Aurelius had been somewhat of a challenge. He was very bright but very stubborn, and when he didn’t understand a lesson, he would often throw something or kick something purely out of rage.

  The first time Aurelius threw a tantrum, Diantha had been shocked. The second time, she had ordered him away and not to come back until he could behave himself. Somehow, Magnus had caught wind of the tantrum and he nearly came to blows with Aurelius, his old friend, until Diantha stopped it and scolded them both.

  Aurelius never had a tantrum again after that.

  But it didn’t stop him from kicking the table leg now and then.

  In fact, she was expecting Aurelius when the training at the arena was over, so she was hurrying to finish at least one of the curtains she intended to hang. With the weather expected to grow worse, she wanted the curtains up to help keep the drafts and weather out of the small cottage.

  The little cottage itself had transformed under her careful hand, with hides on the floor, two very comfortable chairs in front of the hearth, and a second, smaller bed where her pallet used to be, surrounded by a canvas curtain that hung from the ceiling.

  She may share Magnus’s cottage, but she still didn’t share his bed.

  In fact, he hadn’t even tried to coerce her into it. He’d been a perfect gentleman since she’d tried to run away, seemingly content to go at whatever pace she was comfortable with when it came to their budding relationship. He did kiss her, though, and kiss her often, and there were times when she could feel his stiff manhood through his breeches, but he never said a word about tending to it.

  After his bouts, he still received all of the hero worship he always had, with the exception of selecting a woman to spend time with. He collected all the money thrown at him and flexed his sweaty muscles for screaming admirers, but he ducked out of the arena on the south side where no one was waiting for him.

  Except Diantha.

  She was always waiting for him.

  And she tended to him sweetly and gently, something he’d never had in his entire life. As Diantha sat next to the open window with her sewing in her hands, she smiled as she thought of their latest escapade
, the Battle of the Beds. Magnus would take the smaller bed if he had the opportunity to, forcing her to take the larger one, and vice versa. He was trying to be chivalrous, but she wasn’t the one fighting nightly, so she wanted him to have the more comfortable bed.

  They argued about it constantly.

  It was all part of coming to know each other better, of learning to work together, and of understanding the attraction that grew stronger by the day. Magnus had lost none of his arrogance, but somewhere in the midst of it all, he had softened his edges. His arrogance didn’t carry over too much with Diantha, whom he’d grown a heart for. Everyone could see it, especially Diantha. He was everything she knew he could be.

  He’d told her once that she made him want to be a better man.

  Now, he was proving it.

  Over in a big bowl, her little bumblebee was starting to stir. He was still alive, her wingless friend, and he had an elaborate living space for a bee with fresh flowers and honey water to drink. He still crawled on her hand and sometimes slept on her, and there was no one more fascinated with the bee than young Nikki. In fact, he called Diantha “Bee,” something that stuck to the point that everyone, including Magnus, called her Bee.

  Sweet Bee, as Magnus would say.

  More clouds began to roll in from the east, distracting Diantha from her bee because she very much wanted to get the oiled canvas finished, so she picked up her sewing pace. She was nearing the end of the last seam when there was a knock on her door. Before she could answer, Isabail came in with Nikki in tow.

  “Here,” she said, laying out a set of curtains identical to the ones that Diantha had been working on. “I finished these and none too soon. Looks as if the rains are on their way.”

  Diantha nodded, glancing at Isabail’s handiwork as Nikki went straight for the bee bowl.

  “Bee!” he cried happily.

  Diantha smiled at the little boy, who was extremely careful with the bee, even at his young age. With the child occupied, Diantha stood up to show Isabail her curtains.