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

by Maddie MacKenna

  Brother Robert said, “I will, Brother Ian. Tis’ strange, though. I expected them to arrive sometime around midnight last night. The Donnelly lad said he saw her with Taran and Malcolm down by the river. He said he heard them talking specifically about coming here and asking for our help in hiding them from the English. But they never showed up. I pray they fared well during the night.”

  Brother Ian patted Brother Robert on the back and nodded. “I suspect they are heading to Taran’s castle in Carneluke. His clan’s folk are there and the town loves him. He is the pride of the clan Robertson. They have helped many townsfolk, and this monastery is a regular beneficiary of their generosity. Be assured, Brother Robert, Taran will have our help whenever he needs it. Now, excuse me, it’s time for me nap.”

  12

  Rowena wanted badly to apologize for not explaining more about her own situation, but she needed to wait until their tempers cooled. They had nearly lost their lives. If the knights tracked them down and found them, they would likely try to kill Taran and Malcolm to avenge the deaths of their comrades. Or worse, the knights could take them prisoner and turn them over to the crown to suffer death by drawing and quartering. Such a fate would not be out of the question at all.

  She thought, they were right to be angry with me. God, forgive me. Perhaps I should have told them who I really am and what I was running away from. If they had known everything about me, perhaps they would have taken more precautions. Perhaps we would have left this morning at first light instead of lingering about the lodge. Or perhaps we would have kept traveling throughout the night and not rested until we were much farther away. On the other hand, if I had told them everything, I would only breathe new life into my old identity. I do not wish to be the daughter of a powerful nobleman with no ability to make my own decisions about my life. I am merely a pawn to be used to increase the prosperity of my father, to be given away to a man I dislike, and to become the mother of his children. That is the identity I wish to leave behind forever. Once Taran realizes that I am indeed a progeny of the English stock that he detests, his anger will turn to hate. He will hate me forever. He may even use me for ransom or … do something worse with me.

  No, she thought. I do not believe Taran would hurt me. But, telling him my secrets could put his life in jeopardy. After all, the search party now knows of his outpost lodge. They will summon reinforcements and return there for him. If he were taken captive by the knights, they will interrogate him and he will have no choice but to tell them where I am hiding, on pain of death. Why, that could even put St. Columba’s in jeopardy, if I am able to make it there.

  As Rowena mulled things over, she did not mind that the men had settled into a fast pace. She was glad they were putting distance between themselves and her father’s search party. She was going to be tired at the end of their journey, but for now she was having no trouble keeping pace with the two Highlanders.

  She ruminated for a while longer about what Taran would do if he knew the truth about her. The skirmish they just had with the search party had partly given her identity away. They now suspect that I have noble blood, but they know nothing about the proposed alliance between Father and Earl Strongbow. That is what I am running from. I am running from them to God, our savior. Lord God, I am placing myself in your hands. Please show me the way.

  They walked in silence for a long while.

  Finally, Rowena decided she needed to say something to clear the air with them. She said, “I am sorry that I have caused you harm. Forgive me. You must know I did not intend any harm to come to you. I would rather travel alone than ask you to risk anything else for my protection. Please believe me. I have not lied to you about anything.” Then she stepped in front of Taran, blocking his path. She looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I would never lie to you.”

  Taran was still angry. He said, “So ye’re apologizin’, are ye? When are ye goin’ to tell us what ye’re concealin’? We dinnae ken who ye really are. Why did the Saxons call you Lady Rowena?”

  Rowena was quiet. She was afraid to tell them everything, though she was afraid not for herself. If they knew her story, she was afraid what would happen to them. They did not, could not, understand what was at risk.

  Frustrated by her silence, Taran persisted with his questioning. “Who were those Englishmen? What did they want with ye?” He demanded.

  Rowena looked deep into his sparkling green eyes. She felt as though she could lose herself in them and she wanted that feeling to go on, but he was in no mood for it. She summoned her courage and said evenly, “I cannot say, Taran.”

  He asked, “You cannae say, or you will nae say?”

  She hesitated a moment before answering. She then said, “I will not say. So help me God, Taran, it’s for your own good that you not know.”

  He scoffed and looked away. She said, “You have to trust me. It is best that you not know.”

  Taran and Malcolm exchanged glances. Malcolm shook his head in dismay. “Ye cannae trust these bloody English!” Malcolm muttered.

  Taran ignored his comment and asked, “Sister, tell us. Why are ye goin’ to the abbey at Iona?”

  Rowena said, “As I already told you, I am a novitiate nun. You saw for yourself my cloak from St. Martha’s. I need to finish my term as a novice there at St. Columba’s.”

  “Why? Why there? Why not St. Martha’s?” Taran asked, giving her a sideways glance as they walked. His tone had changed. His voice was calmer and quieter now.

  Rowena hoped that Taran’s wrath was waning. She said, “I cannot tell you that, Taran.”

  Malcolm harrumphed at this. Taran said nothing.

  For the next hour, neither man said a word to her. They talked to each other quietly so that Rowena could not hear much of what they said. Sometimes she would hear them talking about politics and events she knew nothing about. They were clearly excluding her from their conversations.

  Occasionally, she would notice Taran watching her, but he would then look away from her quickly, as if he had been caught doing something he should not be doing.

  Rowena was dismayed by the idea that she had generated so much anger in the two men. As she followed the robust Highlanders up one hill and down the next one in silence, doing her best to keep up with them, she preoccupied herself by praying. She asked God to forgive her for sowing the seeds of distrust and resentment. She asked for His direction and wondered if she had strayed from the plan He had for her. She asked Him to forgive the two men for their sins and to protect them, for they were good men at heart. Finally, she asked Him for guidance on the unexplainable attraction she felt toward Taran.

  Keeping herself focused with thoughtful prayer like this was easy for Rowena. Praying and taking to admire the beauty in God’s creations all around her helped her pass the time. So consumed by her meditation was she that she did not notice that her feet had become blistered and were bleeding until her legs strained to climb one hill after the next.

  She had never traveled so far so fast, and her body ached. But pride kept her from complaining. She ignored the pain and she ignored the banal banter between Taran and Malcolm. She kept her thoughts focused on God.

  After climbing and descending what seemed like a thousand hills, the path descended one last time and became a well-traveled road. Another road forked off to the northeast, but the road in that direction was less traveled .

  Taran and Malcolm had stopped and were waiting at the intersection for Rowena to catch up. She estimated that they had been walking for three hours with few breaks. She wondered how much longer they had to go.

  Taran finally broke the silence. He said, “Sister, I must be frank with ye now. Yer kinsmen nearly killed us and they burned down me lodge. We dispatched two of them, but the others will be back, lookin’ for their revenge on us. Ye’ve told us ye cannae say why yer English were willin’ to kill us to get their hands on ye. I’m sorry, but I cannae risk me life again for ye if ye’re not willin’ to be honest and forthright
with me.”

  There it was, Rowena thought. He is leaving me to go the rest of the way by myself. Her heart sank. She wanted to plead with him, but she was too proud to do that. Besides, he was right, it is too dangerous for him. I was prepared to go alone yesterday. The only thing that has changed since then is that I have met this man and have developed a strange attraction to him. If it is God’s will to separate us, so be it.

  Rowena said, “I see. You wish to part company.” She searched his eyes, as if daring him to give her the response she knew was coming.

  He said, “Aye. Unless ye are willin’ to tell me the entire truth about what ye’re doin’.” They locked eyes for several moments, then Taran looked away. He pointed to the road and said, “Ye can follow this road straight to Carneluke, another couple of miles. Ye can find proper lodgin’ there at the inn on High Street at Chapel Street. Proprietor’s name is Sean. Tell him Taran sent you and to give ye a room.”

  Rowena nodded. Then she reached into her shoulder pouch and retrieved the crucifix he had given her earlier that day. She handed it back to him, saying, “I think you should have this back, Taran, considering the circumstances.”

  He looked at it and shook his head. “Nay. Ye keep it.”

  She paused, then put it back in her bag. “I will treasure it always.” She smiled wryly, and then gave Malcolm a hug good bye. “Thank you, dear Malcolm. May God always smile on you.”

  She then gave Taran a hug and had to keep herself from holding him tight and never letting go. “Thank you, Taran, for everything. For getting me safely this far. May God be with you always.”

  She felt Taran put his arms around her and hold her tightly. She savored the moment. As she drew back, he kissed her on the forehead. “Good bye, Sister. Though we have only just met, ye will be forever in me thoughts.”

  They looked deeply into each other’s eyes for the last time, then Rowena turned to go. She did not know that Taran and Malcolm watched her as she walked away from them, headed to Carneluke. She did not turn around for one last look or wave good-bye. She did not want them to see the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

  13

  When Earl Strongbow arrived back at St. Martha’s with his two men, it was late in the afternoon. The sun would be setting in about an hour, he estimated.

  They rode into the abbey cloister. They hopped off their tired horses and handed the reins to the nuns who had come out to greet them. The nuns would make sure the horses were properly tended to. Earl Strongbow directed his men to retire to the visitors’ quarters to rest. “You need to be ready to ride if the others return with urgent news.”

  Earl Strongbow himself went to the abbey refectory to wait for the rest of his knights to return. There, he found Mother Lenora and Sister Prudence. Sister Prudence dished up an extra large serving of some hearty potage with beef for him and half a loaf of bread. Mother Lenora was eager to hear how the search had gone. “Did you find any sign of her?” she asked.

  “None,” Earl Strongbow retorted, annoyed by the fact that he had nothing to report, that he was hungry, and that he did not know how long he would have to wait for the rest of his men. He hoped they will have Lady Rowena with them, or at least something to report. He slurped some of the potage noisily, spilling a little on his tunic, and took a bite of bread so big that it took him some time to chew it and swallow it. Sister Prudence came with a goblet of wine, which he grabbed from her hand as she tried to place it on the table in front of him.

  Earl Strongbow gulped a drink of wine, and spilled that on his tunic, too, right next to the droplets from his potage. Sister Prudence and Mother Lenora exchanged looks of disgust quickly. “Have you anything to report?” Mother Lenora asked. “And where are the rest of your men?”

  Earl Strongbow started to talk, but stopped and looked at Sister Prudence. She was hovering, hoping to hear news about Sister Rowena. Mother Lenora noticed that Earl Strongbow did not want to speak in front of Sister Prudence. “Thank you, Sister. That will be all for now,” Mother Lenora said.

  Sister Prudence bowed her head politely, then returned to the kitchen. She pretended to wash dishes for a moment, but then she stood by the doorway hidden from view, trying to overhear whatever Earl Strongbow said. She could hear him breathing heavily, the way overweight people often do.

  Between mouthfuls of food and his snuffled breathing, Earl Strongbow said, “We tracked her for about twelve miles, then the tracks left the main path. I ordered most of my men to follow the tracks. I went on to St. James and spoke with the abbot, Brother Ian. He knew nothing. We searched the place, but she was not there.”

  Mother Lenora clasped her hands on the table in front of her. “What now then, my Lord?”

  He barely stopped eating to answer her. “We wait. We wait for the rest of my men to return and--” He was interrupted by a loud commotion outside. He dropped his bread and wine and ran out into the cloister, with Mother Lenora and Sister Prudence following behind him.

  The rest of Earl Strongbow’s search party had arrived. Earl Strongbow shouted, “Is Lady Rowena with you?”

  Squire John was the one who answered. “No, my Lord, but we found the place she was hiding and the two Highlanders who seemed to be sheltering her.”

  “Wonderful!” Earl Strongbow exclaimed. “Where is she then?”

  “There was a fight, my Lord. Sir William and Sir Hugh were killed by the Highlanders. I’m sorry to report that the Highlanders escaped, and Lady Rowena is with them. We believe we caught a glimpse of them on a distant hilltop. We torched their hiding place and burned it to the ground. There is nothing left of it.”

  At this news, Mother Lenora rushed forward. “Oh, sir, please tell me . . . Sister Rowena, is she hurt?”

  Squire John looked at her, then he remembered his manners. “Good evening, Mother,” he bowed his head in respect. “To my knowledge, no, Lady Rowena seems to be unharmed.”

  “Praise God,” Mother Lenora and Sister Prudence said, nearly in unison.

  Squire John turned his attention back to Earl Strongbow and said, “She appears to be on the run, under the protection of two skilled Highland fighters. She did not show herself when we identified ourselves and called out for her.”

  “I see. Did you happen to ask the names of these Highlanders?” Earl Strongbow asked.

  Squire John looked down, as if he felt that he had failed the earl on an item of key importance. He should have demanded to know their names. “No, my Lord, there was no time for such pleasantries, I’m afraid.”

  Earl Strongbow snorted. “Quite so,” he said. “Where do you think they were going?”

  Squire John shrugged. “I do not know, my Lord. Only that they were heading north when we last spotted them. They are on foot, which will slow their progress.”

  Earl Strongbow was becoming frustrated with the knight’s handling of things. He asked one more question, sputtering and spitting out the words. “You fool, why the devil did you not follow them? You are on war horses; some are the finest mounts in Staffordshire! They are only on foot! By the blood of Christ!”

  Squire John wilted under the earl’s criticism. Earl Strongbow’s words fell hard and heavy on him, like the blows of a cudgel. But Squire John was not going to stand there and take it from this pugnacious, arrogant nobleman, especially in front of the nuns and his peers. He marshaled his courage and said, “With due respect my Lord, they know the terrain well, much better than we do. We were well inside the undisputed Scottish lands. The Highlanders had already killed two of our men. We could not know how many more of them were lying in wait, ready to overtake all of us in a second.”

  Squire John continued. “So, we decided it was best not to pursue them. It seemed most prudent to return here and gather sufficient armory to engage in conflict on foreign territory. Our quarry will not get far on foot. And in any case, Lady Rowena will be easy to find. Anyone who sees her will remember the sight of her.”

  Earl Strongbow really could not argue with
Squire John’s reasoning. He was right; it was dangerous for this band of knights and irregulars to be galloping around the border lands killing property owners and burning down their homes, like common criminals. Someone very important needed to go with them if they were to retrieve her from the midst of Scotland. Someone like himself needed to ride with them, in full armor, and perhaps Lady Rowena’s father, Lord Kensley, should accompany them as well.

  Before Earl Strongbow could say anything else, Mother Lenora spoke up. “My Lord Strongbow, I am very concerned about what has happened. We must notify Sister Rowena’s father of these developments. He will want to know this disturbing news of his daughter.”

  Without hesitation, Earl Strongbow said, “Agreed. I will dispatch a messenger forthwith.” He turned to Squire John and ordered, “Summon Sir Henry at once. Then get some rest yourself. We will likely ride out tomorrow.”