Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) (7 page)

 As if the solid oak door were no more than a wisp
of smoke, she sensed him standing in silent fury on the other side. She felt
his stare burning through the door like a flaming brazier of coals. Sweet Mary,
what would she do if he forced his way in?

Chapter Four

Frustrated rage licked through Alexander's veins as
he strode from the keep. Cursing his emotions, he quickly mounted his horse and
rode out of the stable. Impatient to leave the castle behind him, he leaned
forward in the saddle and squeezed his thighs into his stallion's sides, urging
it to greater speed.

As his horse shot through the opened gates and the
wind lashed his face, he let out a pent up breath. He bent low over Tursachan's
neck until he and the horse moved as one, galloping across the countryside.

Patting the stallion's neck, Alexander slowed his
mount and turned down a familiar track to a small crofter's hut in the
distance. How many times, years ago, had he traveled this same dirt road with
his mother? He'd enjoyed accompanying her when she visited the woman and young
child who lived in the modest hut there.

His anger lessened as he remembered watching the
wee bairn in a cradle grow from a toddler, to a precocious imp, then to a
beautiful lass. But the momentary respite from his emotions ended as he
remembered, too, the loneliness of his childhood after his mother died.

Old bitterness joined forces with the anger
flailing his thoughts and his jaw tightened. It was no surprise his horse
seemed to sense his mood and trotted surely toward the hut.

After his mother's death, he'd gone there often.
It had been his refuge against loneliness, missing the mother he cherished and
needing the tender mercies of a woman's attentions.

Speaking of his mother with Elsa, the old woman
who lived there with her granddaughter, had helped heal some of the hurt in
losing her. Once the healer at During Castle, Elsa had left to raise little
Fiona, orphaned in a raid by a rival clan.

Although he was four years older than the lass,
she'd tagged along behind him from the moment she could walk. As children, they
had been together frequently until he left to train for knighthood. A wry smile
touched his lips as he thought of that day. She had clung to him and cried so,
he'd promised to bring her a pretty ribbon before she would release her hold on
him.

And even now as a grown lass, she still sought his
company often. Seeing this, some of the castle folk who sought to find favor
with him gave Fiona special consideration knowing his fondness for her. Aye, he
feared the lass might be a wee bit spoiled.

He'd become protective of her as they grew up,
thinking of her more as a little sister than simply a distant member of the
clan. At least until that morning he'd roused after a night of drinking to find
her naked beside him in his bed. Damn his lust.

Alexander's horse whinnied as it halted in front
of the small crofter's hut, ending his memories and leaving him with his angry
frustration.

Someone inside the simple abode must have heard the
sounds of his arrival for the door swung open. Fiona stepped into the doorway,
her beauty emphasized by the soft light coming from within the hut. An old
familiar feeling of warmth and peace stole over him as he looked at the lovely
young woman.

She smiled as she held the door open. "Ah,
m'lord, 'tis wonderful to see ye again. Elsa and I heard rumor of a planned
marriage between ye and a lowland wench, but I didna believe it. Now that ye're
here, we will learn the truth of things."

Alexander tightened his grip on the reins. Aye,
tonight he would know as well. 

Glancing back into the hut, Fiona called to her
grandmother. "Elsa, look who has come to visit with us."

Forcing himself to relax, Alexander dismounted and
led Tursachan to a thick patch of grass beneath a large nearby tree as Elsa
joined Fiona in the doorway. He dropped the reins so his horse could graze and
returned Fiona's friendly smile. Bending his head, he followed them through the
low doorframe into the simple thatched cottage. He quickly looked for any sign
of a young bairn, but saw none. Breathing easier, he gazed down at the two
women beside him.

They seemed the same as before. Elsa was slightly
stooped with age and her weathered face showed the passage of time, but her
eyes still lit with an inner strength and welcome. The years had not robbed her
of her healing skills, for she still acted as village midwife and healer when
the need arose.

Fiona hadn't changed… exactly. He was accustomed
to her beauty and spirited personality. Aye, he knew her well. Tonight,
however, there seemed to be an air of added excitement about her. She greeted
him with a welcoming embrace, just as she'd always done since she was a wee
bairn. But as he returned her hug, he noticed she clung to him longer than was
customary.

 Alexander stepped back quickly. He'd been down
that path before and would not do it again. Walking over to where Elsa had
seated herself by the fire, he knelt and with true affection, clasped his arms
around the old woman. "'Tis been quite some time since I have seen you
bonnie lasses. You dinna look a day older than when I was last here."

Elsa chuckled. "Faith, m'lord, I dinna plan
to be old for another ten years."

Returning her grin, he walked past her and lowered
himself to the short three-legged stool beside the hearth. He'd sat in that
same spot over the years. Leaning back against the wall of the hut, he
attempted to stretch out his legs. It had been easier when he was not so tall.

Fiona poured a tankard of ale and brought it to
him with a brilliant smile. "I saved a wee bit of honey to flavor the ale
in hopes ye would pay us a visit. I hope it pleases ye. Would ye like anything
to eat? I would be pleased to fetch ye aught more."

"No, lass, thank you." Now, this was how
a woman should be, not deceitful and scheming as Beatrice had been. He noticed
she waited for his answer before she sat down curled at his feet, just as she'd
done for years. When he was younger, he had teasingly accused her of sitting on
his feet to prevent him from leaving. She leaned back against his calves and
smiled up at him through her dark lashes.

From where he sat, he could see the firelight
reflected on her face, spreading out across her smooth skin, to be swallowed up
by the midnight blackness of her hair. Her coal black almond shaped eyes
sparkled and her mouth was pursed in a pouty smile. He couldn't help but notice
her sensuous beauty, and after Katherine's icy rebuff, momentarily felt drawn
to Fiona.
Calm yourself, fool. She isn't your intended
.

Taking a deep drink, he looked at the old woman
who had been his friend for so long. "Elsa, how have you fared whilst I've
been away? And what of our lass, here? Has she captured any more young lads'
hearts?" He smiled and rubbed his knuckles on Fiona's cheek in a brotherly
way. Before he could withdraw his hand, she reached up and pressed it more
firmly to her cheek.

Elsa grinned. "Ah, m'lord, I am hale and ye
know our Fiona. She smiles at all the lads, but ne'er gives her heart to any of
them. I wish to see her settled with a mon and wee bairns of her own, but nary
a lad has convinced her yet. So I still have nay wee one to bounce on my
knee."

Alexander listened closely to Elsa's words.
'Twould seem Fiona had not borne him a child, but he must hear it from her to
be sure. He thought again of his plan. If he must, he would wed her. If not,
Malcolm would make a fine husband for Fiona. "Well, Elsa, that day may
soon come."

Fiona drew in her breath in a throaty gasp and
smiled up at him.

A loud pounding on the door of the hut immediately
brought him to his feet, deftly removing his sword from its sheath as he rose.
He quickly crossed the small room, thrust the door open and demanded, "Who
goes there?"

The apparent look of utter amazement mingled with
fear on the startled peasant's face convinced him the vassal was no threat and
he lowered his sword. "Och, man, do you wish to beat Elsa's door down?
What bids you use your fist as a battering ram?"

The peasant snatched off his cap and twisted it
nervously in his hands. "Beggin' yer pardon, m'lord. I am Niall, a farmer
to this fief, an' me wife has begun the birth of our first bairn. Elsa vowed
her aid when the time come, so me wife sent me to fetch her. Fear fer me wife
put strength to me knock, an' no threat. I swear it."

"Ah, 'tis understood."  Noting the night
had the look of an impending storm, Alexander turned to Elsa. "Do you wish
me to escort you there?"

The old woman chuckled. "Faith, no, m'lord.
Storms oft bring on a woman's time. I'm well used to it by now." She
glanced at the distraught young man standing in the doorway and said, "I
will gather my needs and be with ye in a trice, Niall." Walking over to a
low timeworn chest, she took out a basket and began filling it with healing
herbs.

Alexander watched her add a small but deadly
dagger to the basket and looked at her in concern. "What need have you of
that? If you feel compelled to arm yourself, I will accompany you there."

The old woman shook her head. "Nay, 'tis only
the birthing knife. A sharp blade must be placed below the mother's pallet to
cut the pain of birth." Turning to Fiona, she added, "Sometimes first
bairns come quick, child. Other times they take hours to come into this world,
as ye will learn one day. I will stay at Niall's hut this night. If anyone has
need of me, tell them where they can find me."

Smiling she said, "M'lord, Alexander, 'twas
good to see ye again. I must go now, in case the bairn decides no to wait after
all." As the anxious farmer let out a groan, Elsa patted his back and
followed him out the door saying, "Wipe away yer dowy face, Niall. All
will be well soon."

Fiona closed the door behind them and turned to
face Alexander. She leaned against the wood, her shoulders pulled back, almost
as if posing her supple figure for him to admire. She slowly ran the tip of her
pink tongue over her bottom lip as he sheathed his sword.

 Alexander watched her with a feeling akin to a
moth being pulled uncontrollably toward a deadly flame.

Her black eyes traveled from his face, to his
chest, and lower still. Her voice reminded him of a purring cat. "Ooh,
Alexander. Ye surely do thrill a lass with yer powerful skill with yer sword.
Are ye always able to pull it out and sheath it again so smoothly? Tell me, do
ye often wield yer… sword fer a lass to see?"

Proud that she admired his prowess with his
broadsword, he patted its hilt and smiled. "Ah, Fiona, it takes years of
practice to learn to wield a blade. The mightier the weapon, the more practice
it takes to be skilled in using it." 

"Aye, true words, m'lord. Or so I've been
told."

He looked away from her eager glance and drew a
deep breath. Best get his answer now. "Fiona, lass, I must ask. Did you…
was there a child from our night together?"

She hesitated a moment, then said, "Alas, no.
I have naught but the memory of it."

Alexander let out his breath in relief and sat
down on the stool beside the fire, enjoying the simple peace. He drank his ale
slowly and stared into the dancing flames. So, Fiona had not borne a child.
This released him from a duty-bound marriage to the lass. Aye, but what of his
conscience? And after their night together, did she expect it? What could he
say? He felt no passion for her as a man should for his wife. By the saints, he
felt no different toward Fiona than he ever had. At times that cursed night
seemed naught but a bad dream from which he could not free himself.

Fiona stood in silence for a long time and he
eventually relaxed. When he glanced at her, he met her gaze as it slowly
traveled from the area below his sword belt up to his face.

A rumble of thunder seemed to stir her speech.
"Alexander, is there anything ye want? Anything at all? Ye have only to
ask and I would gladly give ye whate'er ye have a hunger for."

Her words seemed to reach out and caress him,
kindling back to life the fire in his blood that he'd felt earlier for
Katherine, and his thoughts turned lusty. God's teeth, he must not lose control
again. He wouldn't even have drink to blame this time.

"No, lass. I must take my leave of you, for I
fear there is more than one storm rising here and we dare not let ourselves be
engulfed by it."

At that moment, nature chose to intervene. A
brilliant flash of lightning momentarily lit the hut, bathing Fiona's profile
in light before a tremendous crash sounded outside the hut.

She screamed and ran into his arms.

The storm broke in all of its fury. Wind and rain
lashed out mercilessly. The force of the deluge pounded against the roof and
walls of the small hut, springing leaks in dozens of places as the wattle and
daub gave way under the onslaught of nature.

Alexander's training alerted him to the frantic
cries of his horse. He swiftly released Fiona and heaved the door of the hut
open. A cascade of water poured in followed by twigs and leaves blown in by the
strong gust.

Except for momentary flashes of lightning,
everything was blanketed in darkness. Straining to see, Alexander waited
impatiently for another brief flash of light. With the next burst of light, he
saw that a large tree branch had broken under the pummel of wind and heavy
rain. It had fallen forcefully against his horse, knocking the animal to the
ground and tangling in the reins. The stallion thrashed in vain as it tried to
free itself of the heavy limb.

Alexander raced through the doorway to free the
stricken animal. The storm lashed at him unmercifully. Driving rain hit him in
sheets. The wind battered him, hampering his movements. The downpour made the
leather reins as slippery as if they'd been greased. They tangled further from
the constant struggle of his horse against the weight of the stout limb.

Temporarily dashing the blinding stream of water
from his eyes with the back of his hand, Alexander pulled out his dirk. He cut
through the end of the reins and tugged on what remained to encourage his horse
to stand if it could.