To Wed A Highlander (29 page)

Colin took a deep breath as if he were about to continue. Then he hesitated.

This time Laurel pushed him to resume the story. “Is it a secret?”

Colin shook his head. “Olave’s story is no secret. It is about a Highland soldier who meets a beautiful woman from the Lowlands.” Again, he paused and gazed thoughtfully at Makenna and then the crowd. “I warn you now the tale does not end well. It is a tale of intolerance and pride. Do you still wish to hear it?”

Makenna bit her bottom lip and looked at Colin. His expression dared her to say yes. She knew he had been waiting for this moment all evening. An interested audience listening to him tell this particular story.

“Indeed I do. How about you, Laurel? Do you know the story of Olave the Highlander?”

Laurel shook her head, coming to the same realization that Makenna had. “No, I do not, but I am exceedingly curious.”

A triumphant grin grew on Colin’s face. “Then I will tell you.”

Colin rose from the large hearth chair at the same time lifting Makenna in his arms. He placed her back on the soft cushions and moved to stand by the hearth’s mantel in a position seemingly casual but perfect to be clearly heard and understood by all in the room.

“As you just learned, Olave is a Highlander who lives in the northern lands adjacent to Conor’s. You might have assumed he was a McTiernay clansman, but in truth he has never claimed to be part of any clan except that of William Wallace,” Colin began.

“But Wallace had no clan,” a young boy interrupted, already completely captivated.

Makenna glanced at the quiet portion of the crowd recognizing that they, too, were seeing a new side to him. She had seen so many facets of Colin’s personality. Hard, stubborn, passionate, commanding, but tonight she was witnessing the man who was to be the father of their child.

Colin cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue. “True, but then again you’d have to understand Wallace when he first began to fight the English. I fought with him at Stirling and Falkirk, but Olave knew him from the beginning.

“Many years ago, when Wallace began his crusade to free Scotland, he banded together a group of men who supported his cause. Olave was one of William Wallace’s original rebels. It was he who helped Wallace launch his campaign against the English and free the towns of Aberdeen, Perth, and the lands north of the Forth.”

“So Olave was a hero?” asked an older boy who had moved closer to hear Colin speak.

“Olave, a hero? I don’t know, to some he might be, but he certainly wasn’t one when Wallace started his crusade. Wallace liked Olave’s height and strength and crazed approach to fighting the English, but his inexperience nearly got him killed. During one action, Olave became badly injured.”

“Did William Wallace save him?” came a question from an unknown face in the back of the crowd.

Colin shook his head. “No. He would have if he had known, but it was another of Wallace’s men, a Lowlander, who found him and nursed him back to health. As Olave grew stronger, he wanted to go out and fight. Quickly the Lowlander recognized Olave’s lack of skill with any type of weapon.”

One of the boys held his hand up in protest. “I thought you said he was the greatest swordsman you have ever met.”

“He is the greatest,” Colin affirmed.

“Better than you?” another lad asked.

“Aye, better than me, but he wasn’t back then. It was the Lowlander who taught Olave how to use the sword, battle-axe, and spear.”

Conor spoke up from across the room. “I would have liked to meet the Lowlander who trained Olave, for there is no one better with a spear.”

Laurel shifted in Conor’s lap and stared at him quizzically. “Why didn’t you?”

Conor’s answer was low and deep and full of reverence. “Because the man died at Loudoun Hill over ten years ago.”

Completely engrossed in the story, Makenna urged Colin to continue. “What happened next?”

“Now, as all of you know, Wallace’s battle at Loudoun Hill was one of his first major successes in driving the English from Scotland, but not all of Wallace’s band survived. Many died, including the Lowlander who had befriended Olave.”

“As was most of Wallace’s men, the Lowlander had been from Ayrshire. So when his friend died, Olave felt honor-bound to find his daughter and tell her what happened. He had planned to return quickly to Wallace and fight again, but the moment he met Lisbet, his plans changed.”

Makenna widened her eyes at the unexpected turn in the story. “She must have been remarkable to keep him away.”

Colin smiled. “Aye, she was. Olave described her as the bonniest of what Scotland had to offer with dark brown hair and golden eyes that could melt the hardest of men’s hearts.”

“I thought you said this tale ended sadly,” came a female voice from the back of the room. “Did Lisbet spurn him?”

“Unfortunately, no. Lisbet welcomed Olave’s attention, and soon they handfasted. They lived just south of the lands of Sorn, and Olave joined the small group of locals helping them build fortifications on the newly commissioned keep. All that summer and winter Olave and Lisbet were happy.”

“What happened?” This time the question came from Makenna. Like everyone else listening, she wanted to know the fate of Olave and Lisbet. Suddenly she thought of Deirdre. “Did she…”

Colin knew what she was going to ask and shook his head before she could finish. “Then in the spring, Lisbet’s family learned about the death of her father and arrived to assume control over his home and land. When they discovered Lisbet was handfasted to a Highlander, they made their displeasure known. Nothing he did or could do would please them.”

Suddenly the remaining activity in the room ceased. People laughing swallowed their mirth as Colin’s words lingered in the air. Though they had been pretending not to care about Colin’s tale, it became obvious they had been listening the entire time.

Colin prolonged his silence for several more seconds before continuing. “Despite all of the work Olave had done restoring her home, regardless of what he did for his neighbors on the Sorn keep, Lisbet’s family harassed him mercilessly. It was not long before they had the whole community acting hostile toward him.”

A group of older boys mature enough to begin training moved to the other side of the hearth to better hear the tale. Colin stopped and looked at them intently before asking, “What would you do?”

Their eyes popped open and Colin asked again, “What would you do? How would you react if someone continually attacked you for the color of your hair? Your height? Your size?”

Colin watched the boys fidget as he waited for an answer. After a minute of silence, a skinny boy sitting in front of the crowd announced, “If it were a man, I would thrust a sword right through his heart.” He followed the statement by slicing the air and then stabbing his friend next to him with a pretend claymore.

Colin pointed at him and said, “You, lad, just might, but Olave…well, he chose to do nothing. Instead, he hoped his actions would change their hearts. For during this entire time, the English were attacking in an attempt to reestablish the strongholds Wallace had freed. And each time, Olave would grab his sword and defend them.”

“Did it work?” asked one of the older boys standing a few feet away. Colin recognized him. He was Ian, the one who had publicly ridiculed Colin’s offer of training.

Colin took a deep breath and sighed. “A heart is the hardest thing to change, and unfortunately theirs was so hard against Highlanders, they could not see what Olave was doing for them until it was too late.”

“Too late? Did he go mad and kill them all? Did he kill Lisbet?” asked a woman engrossed by the story.

“Ah, Lisbet. She never acted against Olave, but in many ways she did something just as vile.”

“What?” shouted several voices simultaneously.

“She did nothing,” Colin answered, his eyes level and unflinching as he scanned the people crammed close around him.

“Nothing? How is that worse than what her family was doing? What could she have done?” Ian demanded, his tone defiant.

Colin looked at him and said, “That question you must learn to answer for yourself.” He returned his gaze to the crowd. “Then came the day after a year of hand-fasting, and do you know what he did?”

“I expect he left and never returned,” one frizzy-haired woman retorted. Colin recognized her as one of the women who had once worked in the keep but no longer offered her services.

He looked her straight in the eye and replied, “Aye, that is
exactly
what Olave chose to do. Scottish pride, regardless of whether Highland or Lowland, can only be beaten and assaulted for so long.

“On the morning of the second day after their hand-fast, Olave dressed and waited for Lisbet and her family to rise for their morning meal. Once they had eaten, he walked over to the door and reached up for his sword that hung above the frame. Then he went and retrieved his axe and his ballock knife. And while Lisbet and her family were still watching, he went out, retrieved his horse, and mounted. And just before Olave left, he said, ‘I leave you, Lisbet, to find someone that will make you happy, but I take my sword with me.’

“Now Lisbet began to panic as she realized Olave was leaving them defenseless. When the English attacked again, they would be unprotected and very vulnerable. She ran after him and begged him to stay.”

“What did he say?”

“He told her that all Scotsmen should know where they belong and accept the price that comes with it.”

“What does that mean?” Ian spoke up, confused by Olave’s departing comment.

“I, myself, didn’t understand what he meant when Olave related his story.”

“But you do now?” Ian asked.

“Aye, I do.”

The woman with frizzy hair stepped forward. “But what happened to Lisbet? Her family? The village?”

“They are all gone, including the Sorn keep. Murdered by English soon after Olave left.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I told you the tale ended poorly.”

Colin clapped his hands, indicating the tale was done. He slyly studied the room. Many were openly nervous; others tried to hide their unease. It was just as he had hoped. He looked at Conor, who lifted his quaich silently to him and nodded. Soon the tale would be repeated over and over again throughout the clan.

It was the Dunstans’ last chance.

Colin closed the door to the solar and watched as Makenna carefully removed the gold threads intertwined in her hair. It had been a long night ending in quiet retrospection. As clan members headed toward their homes, Makenna had taken Colin’s hand and led him back to their room. There she had let go and begun to prepare for bed.

He had expected her to question his story, his motives, what he hoped to accomplish, yet she said not a word. Makenna glided about the room as she prepared for bed. Nothing she did was out of the ordinary. Still, every graceful movement was far more sensual, far more feminine than he could ever remember.

Makenna pulled at the long lace to free her gown and slithered out of it. Lifting a hand to push an errant tendril of auburn hair back behind her ear, she could feel Colin’s blue eyes riveted to every move she made. Pleasure derived from feminine power washed over her.

Colin watched her smile light the deep emerald windows to her soul. He knew that look very well. Makenna wanted him, and she had invented a new version of foreplay. Never did he realize how incredibly arousing it could be just to watch her prepare for bed. He forced himself to enjoy the gift until he could no longer contain his restraint.

Only a single piece of her clothing remained to be shed—her chemise. One side of the semidiaphanous garment slipped off her shoulder as she moved to sit on the edge of the hearth chair. As she brushed her hair back over her shoulder, Makenna’s chest thrust outward, emphasizing the tempting outline of her full breasts and the pink, erect nipples barely hidden beneath the thin cloth.

Slowly she edged her leg out to balance herself as she moved to brush the other side. In doing so, the chemise rose above her knee and with each stroke edged farther up her thigh. She was exquisite.

Colin remembered the first time he kissed her by the loch and how alive she had made him feel. He had been unprepared for Makenna. The first time they had made love, he discovered how lonely he had been, how much he needed what she gave him. Then she had told him she loved him.

He hoped she loved him enough.

Makenna heard his belt rattle on the chest, and then the sound of a thick cloth falling on the floor. She hesitated for a moment and then continued her brushstrokes again.

Colin sank into the chair beside her and stretched out his limbs, hoping that the rest would calm his arousal enough for him to hear the words that would set his heart free or doom him to loneliness. “What did you think about tonight?”

Makenna stopped brushing and turned to look at him. The masculine hunger in him was palpable. She knew that she had stirred his desire and yet he wanted to talk…no, he
needed
to talk. Maybe he knew…

Makenna swallowed and replied nervously, “You mean the story about Olave?”

“Aye, I mean Olave.”

Relief surged through her. “I thought I would like to meet your Olave and his Hazel someday. Although it has taken him a while, I am glad he has her.”

“Do you not feel for Lisbet?”

Understanding crept into Makenna’s eyes. This strong man, so secure and sure of himself, needed reassurance he wasn’t going to lose her. “Aye, but she was a fool. I understand the desire to listen to one’s family, but to ignore your heart is unwise.” Their eyes locked. “I would never be so foolish, Colin,” she promised in a quiet, but firm voice. “If I had been Lisbet, I would have followed Olave to the ends of the earth.”

“And if those ends were in the Highlands?”

“I love Lochlen and these lands, Colin, but I love you even more. Wherever you decide to live, I and our children shall reside there as well,” Makenna vowed, hinting of their impending family.

Choked with emotion, Colin sat still, absorbing what she said and what it meant. He would never be lonely again. “God, Makenna, I need you so very much.”