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

by Maddie MacKenna

  Sir Henry finished by saying, “Most importantly, we need you with us. Your presence will provide us with the authority we may need to confront Scottish armies to gain access to their territory and retrieve Lady Rowena from the territory.”

  Lord Kensley harrumphed. “Good God, Henry! What have I done? What have I done to my daughter? Of course I’ll join you. I can leave at first light. Unfortunately, we do not have many more men available, just the squires. They are all in the employ of that blasted John of Gaunt. They are either on their way to Scotland or already there!”

  Sir Henry said, “I beg your pardon sir? Why would they be doing that?”

  Lord Kensley shook the letter he had been reading at Sir Henry and bellowed, “Because the King wanted to prove his mettle. Parliament would not finance another campaign in France, so instead they have decided to invade Scotland, seeking revenge for their border invasions! They have taken nearly every able-bodied fighter who was still in England with them, leaving the rest of us unable to fend for ourselves.”

  Sir Henry said, “But my Lord, I am still here along with the knights of the search party. Our numbers may be small, but you have our allegiance.”

  Lord Kensley said, “Thank our God for that small miracle! At least Gaunt was smart enough to leave some of the best fighters with the earls in case we needed someone to defend the country against an invasion. Lord knows, this would be the time for an enemy to invade us, as almost no one is home!”

  Sir Henry kept silent and let Lord Kensley rant. He was clearly in a foul mood.

  “We should all be ready to leave at dawn. Please inform the squires.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Sir Henry said. “Will that be all, sir?”

  Lord Kensley thought a moment and said, “I daresay, Henry, if the Highlanders capture us and find out who I am, they may take me for ransom from King Richard. They won’t care at all about Lady Rowena. Who knows what they might do to her.”

  Sir Henry agreed. “You may be correct, my Lord. However, it is indisputable that we will need to invade Scotland to track down Rowena and bring her home. Having you and Lord Strongbow in our search party provides us with credibility about our purpose, should we be stopped by their army.” He added, “And if it is true that English fighters are swarming Scotland as we speak, Lady Rowena could be caught up in the conflict. Your presence could resolve such an untenable situation.”

  Lord Kensley said, “Yes, I suppose you are right, Henry. And I should be there to face my daughter. To convince her to return home, if that is what is necessary. I should have delivered the news to her in person.”

  Sir Henry turned to go, but then stopped. “Lord Kensley, if I may ask . . . your ankle. How will you manage?”

  Lord Kensley said, “I will find a way, Henry. Thank you for your concern. Now go get some food and some rest. And don’t forget to tell the squires to be ready to go by dawn.”

  16

  Rowena opened the door and stepped inside the Carneluke Inn. She found herself in a large room with worn wood floors, stone walls, and exposed wooden beams in the ceiling. Three lead glass windows were set in two walls. Each window was framed by expensive looking tartan draperies. On the far wall a diminutive fire burned serenely in a large stone fireplace. One wall was lined with heavy wood shelves that held an array of bottles, jugs, pitchers, platters. A few people lingered at the tables in the room, talking quietly over their libations.

  A man wearing a smock was going around the room lighting the candles on the tables and in the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, giving the room a beautiful golden glow. When he noticed Rowena, he immediately stopped what he was doing and greeted her. It was not often that a nun came in to the inn, let alone a gorgeous one like this one. “Good evenin’, Sister. Welcome to the Carneluke Inn. May I help ye with somethin’?”

  Rowena said, “Good evening, sir. I am looking for Sean, the proprietor. Is he here?”

  The man bowed politely. “Och, indeed he is here. He is standin’ right before ye. I am Sean Donaldson, innkeeper of this fine establishment.”

  Rowena curtsied demurely. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Donaldson. My name is Sister Rowena.”

  “Tis a pleasure meetin’ ye, Sister Rowena,” he said.

  Rowena swallowed and went on. “I am a friend of Taran, Laird of the Frenich. He said to tell you he sent me.”

  Sean laughed. “Aah, Taran. Me good friend. I should have guessed he would have somethin’ to dae with this bonnie mystery woman. Tis’ a prank?”

  Rowena said, “No, Mr. Donaldson. I truly am in need of a private room tonight. I know it’s . . . it’s . . . rather unusual . . . for a single woman to ask for private quarters.”

  Sean nodded. “Indeed it is unusual, but tis nae illegal in Carneluke.”

  “Can you accommodate me then?” Rowena asked.

  Sean grinned broadly. “Of course, lass. Tis’ me pleasure. A friend of Taran’s is a friend of me own! Come with me.”

  With a candle to light their way, he led Rowena up the stairs to the second floor. He showed her to a room at the very end of the hall. The room had a window that overlooked the churchyard next door. On the other side of the church was an alehouse, now filled with boisterous patrons. Up against one wall was a large straw bed the size of the one she had in her room at Manor Kirk Hall. Suddenly, she felt exhausted and overwhelmed. She just wanted to lie down and sleep.

  As Sean lit the candles in her room, she said, “This is lovely, Mr. Donaldson. Thank you.”

  Sean said, “Ye’re welcome, Sister. It’ll be peaceful here once the men have had their fill at the alehouse. I hope ye’ll be comfortable. I’ll leave ye alone now. Be sure to bolt the door after I leave.”

  Rowena nodded. “I will. Good night, Mr. Donaldson.”

  Sean Donaldson left, and Rowena slid the deadbolt into place behind him. The room was very nice, but it had been closed up for a few days and the air was a bit stuffy for Rowena to be able to get a good night’s sleep. She had gotten accustomed to the drafty air in her cell at St. Martha’s and had spent much of her time outdoors. Some fresh air would feel good. She opened the window as far as it would go and breathed in the fresh autumn air. She leaned out to let the evening breeze caress her neck and shoulders.

  With the window open, she could hear the sounds of merriment from the alehouse. Voices, mainly men’s voices, punctuated with intermittent guffaws, filled the air. She could see the front door open and close as people came and went. Darkness had fallen, and the candles in the street lamps had been lit. Only the silhouettes of people passing by were visible now.

  She heard a man’s voice shout her name. “Ay, tis’ Sister Rowena! Up there, in the window! Hailloo!”

  The voice was vaguely familiar. She scanned the yard and the alehouse entrance but saw no one there.

  “We’re over here, Sister! In the street! Haillo love!” The man shouted again.

  Then she saw someone move from the darkness into the dim street light in front of the alehouse. She recognized the bright red hair from earlier that day. It was the troublemaker she had asked for help on the edge of town. The one who would not help her unless she let him have his way with her.

  His equally obnoxious companion stepped into the street light next to him. He hollered, “Sister, come on down here and let us have another look at ye up close! We will nae hurt ye!”

  From their stupid comments and slurred speech, Rowena could tell they were drunk. She came back inside, closed the window, and pulled the linen curtains tight. She would have to put up with the stuffy air after all.

  Normally, she knelt to pray before going to bed. Not tonight. She hoped God would forgive her for praying as she lay in bed. She was certain He would.

  She took off her cloak and her shoes, then removed her shoulder bag and laid it on the bed next to her. It still had the oats that they had stuffed in it at Taran’s lodge, laughing at the mess they made trying to do it. The crucifix he had given her was still in it, too. Then
she removed her nun’s tunic. She satisfied herself that Sister Prudence’s ring was still in the pocket, then draped the tunic over the foot of the bed.

  Wearing only her undergarment, she got under the blanket and stretched out. She felt inside her shoulder bag and retrieved the crucifix. She clutched it to her breast and thought of Taran. She saw his face in her memory. She heard his voice in her mind and the sound of his laughter. She could even conjure his scent. Why do thoughts of him keep entering her mind?

  She pushed Taran out of her thoughts and began to pray.

  Dear God, thank you for watching over me today. I know you have me in the palm of your hand. Please, I beseech you; watch over Taran and Malcolm, Father, Mother Lorena, Sister Prudence, all of the clergy, King Richard, and the nation of England. Show me your will so that I may be an obedient servant….

  Rowena fell asleep.

  She woke from a deep sleep to sounds of clattering and banging. She was not sure she was awake or still dreaming. She had no idea what time it was, but the blackness of the night told her it was probably after midnight. The banging noise happened again. It was coming from just outside her window.

  She started to sit up when suddenly the window flew open and a man came barreling into her room. He hit the floor and staggered to his feet. Right behind him another man’s leg came through, then another leg, then he slithered in like a demonic snake. They reeked of ale and dirty clothes.

  One of them said, “Haillo there, lassie.”

  It was the two no-gooders! “What are you doing in my room? How did you get in here? Get out!” She cried. “Get out, or I’ll scream for help!”

  One of them pounced on her and covered her mouth with one of his hands. With his other hand, he held a knife to her throat. “I would nae dae that if I were ye,” he said in an evil voice. She struggled, her voice muffled by the hand covering her mouth. “Now be still, nun,” he said. She stopped trying to speak.

  “That’s better,” he said. He pushed a hand under the covers and felt for her breasts. She squealed and pushed him away. His friend said, “I’ll hold her while ye have a go with her. Then it’ll be me turn.”

  The other man tore the covers off the bed and spun Rowena around so that she lay across the bed. He pinned her arms over her head with one hand and held her by the neck with the other hand. “Dinnae move!” He shouted at her angrily, through gritted teeth. He was breathing heavily and his breath was foul. It made Rowena gag.

  His friend went to the other side of the bed and pulled his tunic up. Rowena could see his cock, hard and standing erect. He pulled up Rowena’s gown and began to grope her. He spread her legs apart roughly and positioned himself to thrust into her as deeply as he could go.

  At that moment, another figure crashed through the window. The two attackers were surprised at the intrusion. The one holding Rowena released his grip. She wriggled herself out of his reach and jumped up. When she looked at the intruder, she could not believe her eyes. She cried, “Taran! Taran! Thank God it’s you! Please, help me!”

  Taran looked at her and then at the men. The dark haired man stood closest to Taran. Taran grabbed him by the throat and punched him in the nose. The man cried out as blood sprayed out like a geyser onto the floor. Taran grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him out the window. He fell to the ground with a thud and did not move.

  The red-head was now by the door, trying to slide open the dead bolt to escape. Taran grabbed a handful of his collar, hair, and neck and pulled him toward the window, gaining momentum as he got close, then with both hands heaved the scoundrel through it. He landed on the ground next to his comrade.

  Rowena ran to Taran and threw her arms around him.

  “Taran, I’m so glad to see you!” She started to sob.

  Taran held her tight. He kissed her forehead and cheek, then buried his face in her hair, and kissed her neck. “Ye’re safe now, Sister. Ye’re with me now. Did they hurt ye, lass?” His voice was soft and gentle in her ear. He held her tight. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him with all her might, and buried her face in his strapping chest. She wanted this moment to go on forever.

  “No, I’m fine,” Rowena said in a muffled voice. “You arrived just in time!”

  They held each other without a word for several moments. Rowena finally looked up at him and asked, “How did you find me?”

  Taran broke his embrace and hung his head. “Sister Rowena, I should nae have left ye alone. Malcolm and me worried about yer safety. We have been followin’ ye all along. We saw those two troublemakers harassin’ ye earlier and kept an eye on them. Those lads have been a nuisance since they were born! Always been bad ones, those two. I thought they would be comin’ around for ye. We watched them steal a ladder from the churchyard and break in through yer window. Malcom and me got here as quick as we could.”

  “Malcolm! He is here, too? Where?”

  Taran motioned her over to the window and pointed to the yard below. There was Malcolm standing over the two burglars. Malcolm had hog-tied them and they lay motionless on the ground. Taran called out to him, “Are the lads still alive?”

  Malcolm called back. “Aye, Taran. They’re sleepin’ it off.” He chuckled. “What shall we dae with them?”

  Taran said, “Leave them there. The night watchman will find them and put them in a grave if they’re dead. Now, ye wait there, I’ll be down soon.”

  Rowena could not believe what she was hearing. God had sent Taran to keep her safe after all. She took Taran’s hand and kissed it. Then she remembered that she was wearing nothing but her gown. She groped around on the floor for her tunic and slipped it on. As she did, the ring from Sister Prudence fell out of the pocket and made a clanking sound as it rolled across the floor. It came to a stop near Taran’s feet.

  He stooped over and picked it up. He turned it over in his hand and saw it was a ring. He started to hand it to Rowena, then he hesitated. Something about it looked familiar to him. It was too dark to see it clearly. He carried the ring over to the window and held it in the dim moonlight.

  That was all the light Taran needed to recognize the emblem on the ring. It was a crest. He had seen that crest nearly every day of his life on the armor that hung over the fireplace in the castle of his clan. It was the crest of his own clan!

  He looked at Rowena with bewilderment. He exclaimed, “Sister Rowena! I ken this ring. Where did ye get this?”

  Rowena shook her head. “I cannot tell you that. I am sworn to secrecy, Taran.”

  He sighed. “Another secret. Ye’re full of secrets, are ye nae, Sister?” He took her hand and placed the ring in her palm. He then closed her fingers around it and said, “Take care of this ring.”

  Rowena said, “Be assured I will, Taran. My fate depends upon it. Tell me, why are you interested in this ring?”

  Taran sat on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked up at her. “Tis’ the crest of me clan. Of clan Robertson. This ring ye have comes from me ancestors. It has been passed down through the ages. I last saw it on the finger of me own faither before he died!”

  Astonished at this news, Rowena sat down beside him on the bed, not caring about the impropriety of it for now. “By the blood of Christ!” She murmured. Then she quickly crossed herself and asked God to forgive her for uttering some of the foulest language of that era. “This is truly incredible, Taran! To think that I would possess an important heirloom of your family is astounding. I understand why you would want to know all about how I came to possess it.”

  He looked at her and said, “Aye. Will ye tell me then?”

  Rowena wanted to, but could not violate her oath to Sister Prudence. “I am sorry, Taran. I cannot. I fear my fate, perhaps my life, depends upon it.”

  Taran saw that she was not going to divulge her secret. Perhaps another member of his clan would be able to piece together this puzzle. He stood and said, “I am goin’ to take ye to me home, me castle in Frenich. Ye will meet other members of me clan. T
hey will be pleased to meet ye and see yer ring.”

  Rowena was very surprised by his plan. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me, Taran. That is why you sent me away today. I am English, and your clan may despise me.”

  Taran nodded. He touched her beautiful face and said gently, “Ye cannae help bein’ English. Ye’re still a lovely lass, and leavin’ ye alone was wrong. I should nae have done that to ye. Now that I have seen yer ring, and been close to ye like this, I have no doubt ye must come with me. I must find the truth about all of this.”

  She clasped the ring to her chest and kissed him softly on the cheek. She resisted the urge to kiss his lips, to feel his lips pressing against hers, and feel his hard body against hers. She quickly put those thoughts out of her head and stood up quickly, signaling it was time for him to leave.