Highlander’s Wicked Desire (Wicked Highlanders Book 2) Read online

  “Aye, I can see how ye would be after bein’ forced tae lie abed for all these past days. ‘Tis enough tae cause madness.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth nodded. “It is.”

  “Well we cannae have ye goin’ mad on us now, can we?”

  She smiled slightly. “Nay, it would be best if I did not descend further into such a state.”

  James felt for her struggle. “Ye are nae mad, lass, e’en though I ken how it might feel that way. I have seen madness, ye dinnae exhibit such qualities.”

  “I thank you for the reassurance.” She smiled again, and James sat her down on a log near the croft entrance. She used the exterior wall of the croft to hold herself upright. James watched her as she looked out over the landscape. He half expected that she would view her new strange environs with fear, but instead he saw admiration and something bordering on delight as she surveyed the land before her. He had not expected a well-bred English lady to view his home with the same admiration that he himself felt for it, especially one in her situation. “It is beautiful,” she breathed.

  It occurred to James that this was the first time that Elizabeth had laid eyes on the island since washing up on its shores. “Aye, ‘tis bonnie tae be sure. She is a grand lass, our Skye,” he remarked proudly with a smile. An eagle flew overhead, crying out as if in agreement.

  “I cannot help but wonder if my own home was so beautiful,” she remarked, leaning her head back against the stones.

  “There is nae place as bonnie as Skye,” he answered, “but as much as I am loathe tae admit it, there are some tolerable sea cliffs in England.”

  Elizabeth smiled, “Only tolerable?”

  “Aye, just barely,” he grinned.

  “Perhaps I will someday see them if I am ever able to ascertain from whence I came.”

  “We shall strive tae that end.”

  They fell into a companionable silence, each with their own thoughts. James puzzled over the dead man and what he might have been to the lass. He did not think that he was her husband or brother as his clothing had not been of the same quality as hers, but he had thought perhaps a cousin or the like. A lady would not have been traveling alone with a man that was not her relative. Had there been another woman or family member on board as a chaperone for her journey? The existence of the dead man showed that it was quite possible, probable even. I will set men tae searchin’ the island for any sign o’ remainin’ Sassenachs. It wouldnae do tae have English castaways roamin’ about the heather unaccounted for and wreakin’ havoc on unsuspectin’ Scots.

  James turned to study her face. The small cuts and bruises she had sustained in the shipwreck had begun to heal, revealing more of the beauty that lay beneath them. She turned to face him; her eyes lowered, drawn to the blood upon his sleeve. “You should have Agnes see to your wound.”

  “’Tis nae but a graze,” he brushed off her concern.

  “Even so,” she replied, giving him a pointed look that dissuaded argument. James got the distinct impression that she had used such a look many times in her life. It showed a stubborn streak and an air of authority that he found to be most intriguing.

  “Aye, I will have her see tae it afore I return tae the castle.”

  “Good,” she nodded her head in satisfaction then turned back to admiring the landscape.

  Her words had revealed a kindness in her. To show concern for the wellbeing of strangers, and a Scot at that, was not something he had expected of an English lady, especially one who had lost all sense of her identity as she had. “Ye are a kind lass,” he voiced his thoughts aloud.

  “Am I?” she asked. “How can you be sure?”

  “I am certain o’ it. It is engrained in yer spirit and shines forth from yer eyes as bright as a lantern on a dark night,” he answered, smiling. He reached out to brush an errant tear from her cheek. “Och, dinnae fash, lass. All will be well in time.”

  “I wish I could be as certain as you are about it, but I am not at all sure of anything or anyone, least of all myself.”

  “I cannae begin tae imagine yer pain, lass, but the one thing ye can be sure o’ is me protection. Ye are on MacDonald lands, a guest o’ the laird. Nae one would dare lay a hand on ye as such while ye are under me care.”

  “I am grateful to you for your care, grateful beyond measure.” Another tear slid down her cheek and she swatted it away as if its sheer existence had caused her the greatest of offenses. James smiled at the charm of it and took her hand in his, kissing the back of it.

  “Agnes has the stew ready, me laird,” Samuel called from the doorway of the croft.

  Standing, James pulled Elizabeth to her feet and lifted her up into his arms once more. He carried her into the croft and laid her back down upon the bed. Agnes brought them both a bowl of stew, and they sat eating and talking. James told Elizabeth about the great beauties of the Isle of Skye from the Quiraing highlands in the north to the enchanted Fairy Pools, from the Old Man of Storr Mountain to the bountiful shores of Sleat in the south. He told her of the island’s animal and plant life, of its history and culture, and of his hopes for the future. Hours passed in pleasant conversation.

  Elizabeth was a delight to talk to, even in her wounded state. She was interested in every word that fell from his lips as if she were hungry for knowledge of any kind. He supposed with the empty void her own life had once occupied, her mind had a need to fill itself. He was careful not to reveal too much of anything that might be used against him or his people by the English or his blackmailers. He spoke only of neutral topics, free of risk or harm.

  A lull fell in the conversation, and he caught her looking at him in contemplation as if she were deciding whether to tell him her thoughts or to keep her own council. Her face cleared as she apparently made up her mind to speak. “I had an unusual memory when last we spoke.”

  “Oh, aye?”

  “You bear a sadness, a weight that runs deep, and shines out through your eyes. It reminded me of the Greek deity, Atlas, carrying the weight of the heavens upon his shoulders. I apologize for the forward nature of my speech, and I considered keeping my own counsel on the matter, but you have been most kind to me, and as you said before, any memory could be of import.”

  “Aye, I am glad ye felt that ye could share it with me, e’en though it paints me in a pitiful light.”

  “Not at all,” she shook her head in disagreement. “It simply shows that you are alive.”

  James smiled in appreciation of her words but was less than pleased that his inner turmoil had been so apparent to her. It did, however, provide him with further information about her. “Your knowledge of Greek mythology tells us that ye are an educated lass. ‘Tis likely that ye had a tutor. Do ye remember anythin’ else from yer education?”

  She shook her head. “Only small pieces of information from time to time. A sound here, a thing there, the briefest flicker of memory and then it is gone. It is scattered and unpredictable at best, but I suppose it is something. Earlier, when you were speaking of Skye, the image of a wide grassy meadow covered in wildflowers blowing in the breeze came into my mind, but it was nondescript. There was nothing at all specific to it that would aid us in discovering who I am.”

  “Aye, but as I said before, ‘tis a start.” He smiled at her and patted her hand reassuringly. “The more memories ye have, the more will come.” Elizabeth stifled a yawn, then blushed in embarrassment. It was clear that she was exhausted from his visit. Squeezing her hand one last time in reassurance, he announced his departure. “I will leave ye tae rest now, but I will return on the morrow tae take ye outside again. I ken well enough how desperately one would long for such in yer condition.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured sleepily, then slid down beneath the covers and was asleep before he had managed to step foot out of the door.

  He looked down into her sweet sleepy face and felt his heart skip a beat. Something deep down inside of him rose up, and he fought the urge to turn and take her up into his arms once mo
re. Taking control of his feelings, he forced himself to look away, but as he crossed over the threshold, he could not stop himself from murmuring the promise his heart had already made.

  “Always…”

  Chapter Seven

  James left the croft and made his way over to the kirkyard to see that everything had been taken care of regarding the dead man’s burial. When he arrived, he found William lowering the body into the grave. “Tis nae but mud,” William grumbled. “Nae sooner would I move the earth, then more would slide back down into the hole. ‘Twas a bloody awful mess.” James stepped forward and began to fill the hole back up again as the minister stood nearby tending to the dearly departed’s soul through prayer and scripture readings.

  The mud in the kirkyard sucked at their feet as they attempted to give the man a respectable burial. William stumbled more than once, cursing the storm’s seemingly never-ending gifts. James would have laughed had they not been standing over a corpse. His father’s grave stood not far away, and every time he laid eyes upon it, a veil of darkness would fall over his heart. He thought of Elizabeth’s observations about his resemblance to the Greek god, Atlas. She had an astute mind, in spite of her injury. James doubted that it would take very long for her to remember the life she had had before, once her head had a chance to heal. He had enjoyed visiting with her. She had a quick wit and a charming laugh that reminded him of the strings on a harp, musical and enchanting.

  He was drawn to her, and he felt guilty for it. ‘Tis sure tae be found that she had a great many suitors back in merry auld England, mayhap a husband and bairns. There can be naught between us for either o’ our sakes. I cannae afford tae alienate the clan by marryin’ a Sassenach, and she cannae risk angerin’ whom e’er she has left behind. James shook his head in disgust. Ye always want the lassies that ye cannae have. James Alexander MacDonald, ye are a fool tae be sure, he chastised himself for his thoughts.

  When he had held her in his arms, his body had reacted strongly to her touch, and it had been difficult to resist acting upon his desires, so long had it been since he had allowed himself the touch of a woman. He had lost the one he loved to another man and had been clinging to the memory of their precious few moments together much too strongly, as if his love were a lifeline to a past that no longer existed. He now recognized that it had been just as much about clinging to the idea of the way things had been before his father’s death as it had been about any real connection they had shared. Since he had discovered the man his father truly was, he had felt rudderless and alone. Glancing up at William, he reminded himself of all that he had gained since that time and all that could be gained in the future, were they to survive their current difficulties.

  “Have ye given any more thought tae who ye might marry?” William interrupted his thoughts. “I have some ideas I could share with ye, if ye dinnae ken yer own mind on the matter.”

  “Nae, I have nae given it any further thought, but I ken that ye are right about it. I am o’ two minds about it.”

  “Oh, aye?”

  “Aye,” James nodded pausing in his work. “I dinnae ken whether it would be better tae marry within the clan to further strengthen allegiances here as ye have suggested, or whether tae seek an alliance from outside o’ the clan tae further protect us by adding the strength o’ another clan tae our own.”

  “Aye, I see what ye mean. There is something tae be said for both plans, but ye already have an alliance with the MacDonalds o’ Jura and Duncan Campbell, though an alliance with a Campbell is far more dangerous than anythin’ ye face here on Skye. Ye put yerself in jeopardy by keepin’ it.”

  “Dangerous or nae, I will nae turn me back on me friends,” James argued.

  “Perhaps one o’ the other clans on Skye?” William suggested. “That would further strengthen yer bonds on the island itself. I hear the chiefs o’ both Armadale and Duntulm Castles have more than one bonnie daughter tae choose from, MacDonalds all.”

  “Aye, and they would be all tae happy tae add Knock Castle tae their own estates should me enemies come for me as anyone o’ them could lay a legitimate claim were I tae be removed.”

  “’Tis true,” William frowned. “Their care would be for their own people and nae o’ ours.”

  “If I chose a bride from another clan, it would need tae be a lass from a clan that had nae interest in the matters o’ Skye, where their only allegiance would be tae me as a member o’ their family.”

  “Aye, and if ye were tae marry within the clan then the bride’s family would be tied tae ye. Yer fortunes would become their fortunes. They would have a vested interest in protectin’ ye, and by doin’ so, protectin’ yer bride, their own flesh and blood.”

  “Aye, there is much tae consider.” He frowned in resignation. “And there is nae place for love or affection within it.”

  “Affection will come later with time, or it will nae and ye can take a mistress.”

  “Nae,” James shook his head. “Love or nae, when I make a vow, I keep it.”

  “’Tis a lonely life ye will be forcin’ yerself tae lead then, lad.” William’s eyes filled with sympathy for James’ plight.

  “Aye, but there is nae anythin’ tae be done for it.”

  “’Tis sorry I am, lad, but ye need as many allies as ye can get, and this is the only way I ken tae form an unbreakable bond such as the one ye need tae survive.”

  “Verra well. I give ye permission tae invite those ye see fit tae Knock Castle for a ceilidh the day after the oath takin’. I dinnae want strangers about the day o’, but after, I am sure, we can make some room for a guest or two.”

  “And what o’ the English lass? Do we nae need tae keep her presence a secret until we ascertain where she belongs?”

  “Ye ken as well as I that there is nae way tae keep such a thing a secret. I would wager that the day after she was found, the entire island kenned what had happened tae the English ship. Gossip spreads akin tae a wild flame in the wind.”

  “True enough,” William sighed, “but her presence certainly makes things more difficult.”

  “Aye, so perhaps I should be lookin’ at clans with enough strength tae keep the English at bay.”

  William rubbed his whiskery chin in thought and nodded slowly. “Aye, that is a possibility, but who would be strong enough tae scare the English. The name MacDonald does nae have the same power it once bore. The Campbells might be strong enough, but after everythin’ they have done tae we MacDonalds, there is nae plan in which ye would escape that marriage alive.”

  “Nae, I wouldnae dare tae make such an open alliance. Nae after what they did at Glencoe.”

  William growled, fury blazing from his eyes, then spat on the ground in disgust.

  They continued to work in silence, each considering their own thoughts on the matter of marriage. “Perhaps it would be best if we both wed, tyin’ two families tae our side,” James suggested after a time when the last bit of mud was placed over the grave.

  “Me wed,” William snorted in consternation. “I was nae made for such things.”

  “Away and bile yer heid,” James laughed at the look on his friend’s face. “Ye would make any lass a fine husband.”

  “Dinnae be daft!” William’s face took on a distressed expression as he realized just how serious James was about his proposal.

  “I am nae daft, and well ye ken it. If I can make this sacrifice, then so can ye.”

  “But yer the laird!” William protested. “’Tis yer duty tae wed and produce bairns.”

  “Aye, and ye are me Keeper. It is yer duty tae protect me and the castle, is it nae?”

  “Aye,” William nodded begrudgingly.

  “Nae matter by what means?”

  “Aye,” William answered again, his face now in a scowl of discontent.

  “Well, then…”

  “Och, haud yer wheesht. I’ll do it, but ye and the poor wee lass that weds me are sure tae regret it.”

  “I am certain that ye will get al
ong splendidly,” James teased, victorious.

  “Aye, now tae find the unlucky brides.” William walked away grumbling the entire trek back to the castle.

  James stood watching him go. Dropping his forced jovial manner, he stared out over the island, his heart crying out to be freed from its misery. Out there somewhere was the unlucky lass that would be his future bride. A loveless marriage is nae but a slow march tae the grave. Sighing, James followed William back to the castle. There was much to prepare.

  * * *

  Elizabeth awoke in the night, flushed and panting with fear and anger. She had dreamt of the dead man, Robert. She remembered him now, not much, but enough to know that she was glad to never have to see the man again. He had been her family’s solicitor and had been assigned to oversee the signing of her marriage contract and the transfer of her dower goods. The dream had been hazy, but she remembered the misery she had felt, being sold off as chattel. She still did not remember the man’s last name or her own. No further information had been revealed to her about her family other than the fact that they had obviously not wanted her. She tried to remember where she had been bound for and why she had been on the ship, but such facts eluded her.