Highlander's Sinful Desire: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

  Like a cat, Rowena ducked low and moved silently towards the trees about twenty yards away. Years of late night visits to the abbey library when she was supposed to be in bed sleeping, along with late night visits to the kitchen and other rebellious acts that required covert skills, had trained her on how to be as stealthy as any of the king’s finest soldiers. She had never once been caught, and she was not about to be caught now.

  She closed in on the small camp and heard the soldiers’ snores. The hour is late and they are likely exhausted from performing their duties. Good, they will sleep all the more soundly for it. She clutched the knife in her hand and crept forward. She could not see the Highlanders’ faces from her vantage point, but she could see their guard. He, too, was propped against a tree. His head was back, mouth open, snoring as loud as any of them. The rest of the soldiers dotted the ground several yards away. Judging from the snoring sounds, Rowena presumed they were all asleep already.

  Rowena crept forward and whispered over the shoulder of one of the Highlanders, saying ever so softly, “Shh. Do not be afraid. I will help you.”

  The Highlander gave a slight flinch, but she was not sure he had heard her or even understood her. She crouched behind the tree he was tied to and whispered next to his ear, “If you can hear me, nod your head a bit.”

  He gave a single slow nod of his head. If any English soldier was watching him, he would look as if he had just drifted off to sleep or maybe something in his lap had caught his eye.

  Rowena moved closer and murmured, “I have a knife. I am going to cut you loose. Do not move.”

  Silently, Rowena sliced at the rope binding his hands in place. It took her a few minutes. Her hands were sweaty and clammy for fear the captives’ guard or one of the soldiers would wake up and spot her. But no one stirred.

  When she finished freeing the first man, she did the same for his comrade. Once both men’s hands were free, they all slunk silently through the brush and beyond the edge of the woods. Rowena led the two men through the tall grass back to the rock where she had hidden during their skirmish.

  As they approached her hiding spot, Rowena pointed to the sword that she had rescued and then left waiting for them against the rock wall. It gave off a diminutive gleam barely visible in the moonlight.

  “My sword!” whispered the Highlander who had dropped it. He snatched the heavy sword with one hand and looked it over, confirming that it was undamaged and ready for another spar. He looked at her with twinkling, admiring eyes, and softly said, “Thank ye, lass. I am in yer debt.”

  Just then, they heard rustling and a man shouting behind them. “Hey! Stop right where you are!” They looked back in the direction of the camp. They saw a soldier standing at the edge of the woods where they had just been. The soldier was waving his arms, shouting, and trying to rouse his comrades.

  “Run, quick!” the Highlander shouted, sheathing his sword quickly. His companion took off up the face of the rock and disappeared. Rowena was looking back over her shoulder at the soldiers when the Highlander grabbed Rowena’s hand and pulled her around in front of him.

  “Go!” He began to push her forward, urging her to climb the rocks as he followed immediately behind her, one hand nudging her up when she faltered and the other hand steadying himself. Several of the soldiers were running towards them. They would catch up in no time.

  Rowena moved as quickly as she could, but they were getting high up and it was difficult to find good footing in the darkness. Behind her the Highlander propelled her forward by using his own body against hers. They found a level place wide enough to stand on. There were several larger rocks scattered around. Obviously they had fallen from higher up and lay where they had landed.

  “Help me move these rocks!” The Highlander shouted to Rowena as he pushed some of the rocks over the edge. She saw what he was doing. The soldiers below cried out as the rocks began to rain down on them. Brilliant! She sat down on the ledge and used her feet to push as many boulders and rocks as she could over the edge. All but one of the soldiers had scampered back to the bottom of the outcrop.

  The Highlander was struggling to roll one very large and heavy boulder. Rowena rushed to his side and together they pushed with all of their strength. Finally, the boulder began to rock back and forth. They let it build momentum and with one great heave, the boulder rolled slowly over the edge and came thundering down the side of outcrop, dislodging several other rocks in its path. The soldier below slipped and tumbled down the side in a torrent.

  The Highlander said, “Let’s go!”

  They clambered up the rock face and looked down at the soldiers. They were shouting now as they resumed their pursuit.

  Rowena followed the Highlander down the other side of the outcrop. The path going downhill was much easier than the way they had come up. At the bottom, Rowena was grateful to feel level ground beneath her feet. She looked back up the rock face and saw three soldiers appear at the top. One of the soldiers looked right at her and yelled, “My Lord! That is a woman! There!” He pointed right at her.

  She saw two more soldiers peer over the ridge. They called to her. “You there, madam! Do you need assistance? Stop! Stop, in the name of King Richard!”

  For a moment, she stood there frozen, like an icicle in January. Defying her father and the abbey by running away was bad enough. But freeing the two Highlanders tonight was nothing short of a betrayal of her country. Setting off a rock to fall on top of them had surely caused an injury to one of them. She could be charged with treason. There was no going back now. She felt the Highlander’s hand grab her arm as he yelled, “RUN!”

  The three of them turned their backs to the soldiers and bolted north.

  The King’s men started down the rocky hillside in pursuit.

  “Enough! Let them go!” shouted the soldier in charge, a lieutenant who clearly had quite enough trouble for the night.

  Perplexed, the men looked back at their leader. He said, “Let them go. I will remind you all that our orders are only to deliver the tithes and tax revenues to the crown court at Carlisle. Chasing down these ruffians is not in our orders. Let us not be distracted by troublesome Highlanders. They are like cockroaches in this countryside. Kill one and two more will pop up behind them. They are a waste of our time and precious resources. Let’s get back to camp and get some rest.”

  5

  While the English soldiers returned to their camp, the three fugitives ran without stopping. After several minutes, one of the Highlanders paused. Rowena saw his face in the soft moonlight. His features were exceedingly handsome. He cocked an ear to the night, listening for any sounds they were being chased. He heard no footsteps on the pebbly ground, no shouting, no weapons clashing against their sides. But still, he instructed, “I think they gave up. But we have to keep movin’. We cannae rest out here.”

  They jogged on, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the soldiers. Rowena could barely keep up. She ran until her ribs hurt. Her breathing had started coming in gasps, and her pace slowed. Soon she lagged some twenty yards or more behind the men. Her skirts kept catching the grasses and wrapping around her knees, which made the going even harder and slowed her down more. Finally, she stopped and called out, “Aagh!” She sank to her knees, gasping for air as her body tried to replenish itself with oxygen. She could go no farther. If the soldiers caught her, so be it.

  “Stop! Please, I have to rest a few minutes! I can barely breathe!” She called to them.

  The handsome Highlander said, “Yes, but only for a moment. There is a safe place a little farther north where we can stop and have a proper rest until mornin’. Can ye make it another two miles?”

  Rowena nodded, still trying to catch her breath. “I don’t know . . . I need to rest a moment,” she said. “Please, go on your way. God will watch over me.”

  The other man, also a Highlander, scoffed at her reference to God. “God is busy with other matters. It is up to ye to make yer own de
stiny!”

  The handsome one said to her, “Ignore that old fool,” pointing to his friend. “We’ll wait. We cannae leave ye here alone. Tis’ too dangerous.” Then he noticed the flask tied to Rowena’s waist. He bent down onto one knee and put a hand gently on her shoulder. He reached for the flask with his other hand and offered it to her. “Drink.”

  Rowena smiled at the tenderness shown by such a rugged man. “Yes, a drink would be nice. Thank you… thank you.” She looked up at his face, now so close to her own as he leaned over her. He was so attractive, she thought. As quickly as the thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. Where had that come from? she thought. Never mind that – it was completely inappropriate, she scolded herself.

  “We are in yer debt,” he said to her, now smiling. Once Rowena’s breathing had settled closer to normal, he reached out a hand and helped her to her feet. They locked eyes for a moment. Rowena felt his eyes bore into hers as he took a good look at her.

  She noticed him blink, as if he had forgotten what he was about to say. He started to speak but then lost his voice for a moment, then gathered himself and cleared his throat. With a respectful bow, he said, “Allow me, my lady, to introduce myself. I am Taran Robertson, Laird of Frenich at the Loch Lomond.”

  On hearing the introduction, the other Highlander stepped closer. He laid a hand over his heart and said, “I am Malcolm MacBrian. You risked yer life to save us. We owe ye our lives! Thank ye lass!” Malcom said.

  Rowena felt humbled by their gratitude. She knew that what she had done was risky, but nothing compared to the risks they had taken when they overtook the robbers. She could not have turned her back on them, even though she could be accused of treason if she were caught. But not helping the two men would have haunted her forever. She would have never forgiven herself and doubted if God ever would either.

  She said simply, “You are modest. Helping you was the least I could do. I was there when you fought off those robbers! I was hidden in a corner of the rocky crag. No one knew I was there. But I saw you. I saw your bravery!” She paused and turned to Taran, who was watching her intently. She said to him, “I saw you drop your sword during the fight. It landed so close to me. I thought I would be discovered. But I was able to snatch it without being seen.”

  Both men listened, jaws agape at her story. They seemed spellbound, she noticed. Especially Taran. Once again, she felt a strange attraction to this most rugged man. She stopped talking as she tried to get back in control of her thoughts. She looked away from him quickly.

  Taran noticed that Rowena had left Malcolm seemingly speechless. Taram decided it was up to him to get more information from this lovely young woman. It was as if she was here in the middle of the night for no other purpose but to help them escape from the Englishmen. “Lass, yer bravery was admirable even for a seasoned fighter. Yet, ye have nae yet told us who ye are or what business brings ye here to the border lands of Kielder Forest this time the night. Would ye kindly explain yerself?”

  Rowena detected a healthy degree of suspicion in Taran’s voice. He was clearly younger than Malcolm, his companion. She sensed nonetheless that he had enough experience with treachery that he trusted very few strangers. He probably had never encountered an Englishwoman like Rowena under these circumstances. She said, “I sense you are wary of me. Did I not just rescue both of you from the hands of my own countrymen? You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Taran laughed quietly and said, “I assure ye, I am nae afraid of ye, lass. I wish to ken who ye are. Yer name.”

  She remembered the advice Sister Prudence had given her about keeping her identity secret. Rowena had not had time to make up the story she would tell about herself, and deception did not come naturally to her. Now she was on the spot with these two men. She said, “My name is Rowena. I am a novitiate nun.” She opted to tell these men her name, rather than lie about it. She had a feeling that she could trust them, even though she did not know them. God would look out for her as He always had, she was certain of that.

  “Rowena, is it then? Well if that is not a noble name for a nun, then, what is?” Malcolm said. Rowena sensed he wanted more information from her but she was not ready to reveal that much yet. Rowena looked at Taran for help, but he was looking her over as if he also was trying to decide whether she was to be trusted. I do not blame them for their wariness. They have probably never encountered a nun in the forest in the middle of the night!

  Confirming her perception of their skepticism, Malcolm asked, “Sister Rowena, ye have nothin’ to fear from us. Ye say ye’re a nun? Just tell us, where would a nun be goin’ in such a hurry all by herself through these disputed lands at so late an hour?”

  Rowena hesitated. She had to trust someone. How much should I tell them? She had no other choice. Why not these two? So far, she had not fared very well on her own and had even begun to regret her decisions. She took a deep breath and told them mostly the truth. “I am on my way to the Iona Island. To the monastery of Saint Columba.” True, she thought. “There I will complete my journey and fully become a nun.” True again. “I travel at night mostly for my own protection as I do not wish to be discovered.” True so far. This is only the first night of my journey! “You see, my father does not know of my current whereabouts or my intentions. He has other plans for me.” Mostly true, though not the whole story.

  “Wait a moment. Ye say are on yer way to become a . . . a nun?” Taran asked, surprise in his voice. He was about to say, “Why?” and then he caught himself. It was a very rude question and none of his business. Instead, he said, “Why, that is quite a remarkable explanation.” In fact, her explanation dumbfounded him.

  For his part, Malcolm just chuckled at Rowena’s unusual story. “I believe ye, Sister Rowena,” he said. “I believe ye because yer tale is too outlandish to concoct! But ye must know that travellin’ at night through these border lands is not safe, especially for a bonnie young lass like yerself,”

  Taran then said, “Truth be knewn, though, I daenae believe ye are tellin’ us everythin’, but I suspect ye have told us all that ye are willin’ to share with us this night.”

  Rowena looked at Taran and said nothing further. He had read her perfectly. Am I that transparent?

  Taran said, “Malcolm, we must provide Sister Rowena with safe passage. She has put herself in great danger out here alone. The raiders in these parts are savages. We cannae leave her to fend for herself. She has nay chance without someone’s help. Without our help.”

  Rowena’s heart skipped a bit. Had she detected notes of concern for her safety in Taran’s voice? They would protect her. God must have sent them to her. She chided herself again. I have to be careful. We have only just met. Taran surely knows that if I am caught by the soldiers, they will expect me to tell them what I have learned from these Highland border renegades. I must keep my wits about me, she told herself. Why am I reacting like this to the things the man says? It is important that I keep vigilant. I am simply exhausted. But no matter, I am on my way to devote myself to the service of the Lord!

  Without hesitation, Malcolm said, “Aye, I agree laddie. I would nae leave her even if she had not saved us from the English. What our enemies would dae to her, well, only God knows.” Then he said to Rowena, “Pardon the expression, Sister.”

  Rowena took Taran’s hands in both of hers and gripped tightly. His hands felt like those of a warrior – strong and calloused. “I will be deeply grateful to you for your kindness.” Then she looked at both Taran and Malcolm and said soberly, “But if my presence will place you in any danger, I insist that you go on your way and forget you met me.”

  Taran removed a hand from her grasp and reached for her chin. With the gentleness of a whisper, his fingertips turned her face to his. He held her eyes. He did not deny to her that having her with them would slow their progress and increase the risk of danger.

  He said gruffly, “Ye are right, lass, taking ye with us will slow our pace and make us more visible to any
who would wish us harm.” Then he sighed. “On the other hand, leavin’ ye alone is out of the question. Ye must stay with us. Ye can rest for the night with us at me outpost just a ways farther north.”

  Malcolm repeated his earlier warning. “Taran is right. Ye are at great risk alone. And you mark my words. God will nae protect ye from the evil out here.”

  Rowena nodded in understanding. Taran said with a wry chuckle, “Good. Let us pray, Sister, that we have given God one less reason to condemn us to eternal hell! Let’s get goin’. We have tarried too long.” Taran held out a hand to Rowena and she took it. His touch was reassuring in a way that reminded her of the way she sometimes felt when her father comforted her in earlier days. His goodness was unmistakable, even if it contrasted with his hardened exterior. His manners were chivalrous, even noble, especially for a Highland brute.

  “Stay close behind me,” he said to her. “If I step off the path, ye dae the same. And stay quiet. Malcolm will be right behind ye, even if ye daenae see him or hear him. We will move quickly now, try to keep up. I daenae expect to run into any more English, but it is possible. In any case, the Highland raiders can be just as bad, or worse, as ye have already seen for yerself,” Taran said. He was referring to Malcolm and himself. “Dae ye understand?”