Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Volume 5
Marti Talbott’s
Highlander Series
Book 5
(Clare, Dolee, Catlin & Lasha)
By
Marti Talbott
© 2011 All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
CLARE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
DOLEE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CATLIN
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
LASHA
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
Betrothed
Book 6
CHAPTER I
More Marti Talbott Books
CLARE: Clare of the Abbey hoped to marry the Lord of Wickerly Castle until word came that he was dead. So with no reason to stay, she went to Scotland with her sister and did not speak of her grief. But her uncommon beauty tempted all the Highlander men and soon the jealous unmarried women were demanding she choose a husband. He was not dead, but could the man she loved find her before it was too late?
DOLEE: After three years of marriage, Dolee desperately wanted to give her husband a son. She tried every remedy anyone suggested including potions that made her deathly ill. At last there was no other option—Dolee would have to try the one thing that might cost her everything, including her life.
CATLIN: Known as Bridget Cameron, Catlin’s mother was adamant—if ever Catlin heard the name “Charlet,” she was to go straight away to find Laird Neil MacGreagor. Now her mother was dead and the English were searching for Charlet. But who was Charlet and why had the English put a bounty on her head? The answer left Catlin speechless.
LASHA: As the sister of a laird, Lasha Haldane knew she was expected to marry within her small clan. But one look at the handsome Cowan MacGreagor tempted her otherwise. Then a Haldane asked for her hand and the decision could no longer be put off. Would Lasha follow her heart or would she choose to please her beloved brother?
CLARE
CHAPTER I
IN THE MONTH OF APRIL, on the eighth day, in the year of our Lord 11—
My Beloved Clare,
I cannot seem to think of anything but you, yet I am aware of your caution not to write so often for fear you will be punished. I cannot bear the thought of that happening on my account. Just know my heart is constantly with you.
Father is gravely ill yet he lingers and suffers, which I would not wish upon anyone. He is a good man, mostly, but set in the ways of passing the inheritance to a son who marries according to his father’s wishes.
I do so hope you are understanding of my position. As you are well aware, without the inheritance I would have no way of caring for you.
Would that I could, I would this very day carry you away and keep you in my arms forever
Soon, my love, soon.
Alcott of Cumberland
The adjustment from a well-regimented life in an Abbey, to complete freedom in the MacGreagor Clan made Clare feel lost and ill at ease. Before long she was driving her sister daft asking for permission to do this or that, but a lifetime of habits die hard. Thankfully, Greer was very understanding.
Even more overwhelming was the sudden attention of so many men. More than one MacGreagor learned the words in English and mentioned her extraordinary beauty, but it was not a welcome compliment. Attractiveness, she learned early on in life, was more of a curse than an asset. While she was carefully watched and surrounded by other women in the Abbey, there were occasions when a man in their company wanted her in his bed.
However, none did not, indeed could not, offer marriage. Some men in authority taught self-denial but did not always practice it and when she declined, which she repeatedly did, she was given the hardest of all chores. Therefore, Clare’s plight in life was to keep weeds out of the rows and rows of vegetable and herb gardens.
Working outside caused problems when visitors came and occasionally a man would offer to pay for her attentions and even her freedom. It was then the priests decided she should dress in the clothing of a monk with a hood to hide her comeliness. She did not mind, the hood protected her from the sun and more often than not she enjoyed the extra warmth.
Daily she prayed for Greer to fetch her—nightly she went to bed in the room filled with dedicated nuns and tried not to let her heart hurt too badly. Then something extraordinary happened—she was allowed to go to market with Marlow for the first time ever and it was there she met him.
Alcott of Cumberland had eyes so brown they were nearly black and the color of his hair matched them. So mesmerizing were his features, she could not later remember what he wore, other than it was a blue tunic with white trim. Perhaps he wore a crest denoting his station in life but she could not recall.
Had he asked, she would have gone anywhere with him, but he did not ask and, because of the clerics and the wall around the Abbey, it was the only time she ever saw him up close.
Conditions were complicated on both sides and all they had of each other was a meager exchange of letters. Then word came that Alcott of Cumberland was dead and Clare was devastated.
The very next day, four enormous Highlanders brought her sister, Greer, inside the wall of the Abbey and Clare was saved. Her grief and her joy were so overwhelming, she hardly noticed the journey into Scotland, nor did she mind so much that she had no clothing save the boring brown she wore under the brown robe with a hood.
Once they finally reached the rest of the clan in Northern Scotland, she was given a hot bath in the chambers of Mistress Glenna, the clothing of the MacGreagors and allowed to unbraid and brush her beautiful, long, golden hair.
She was home.
“Home,” Clare whispered. Seated at the small table in the cottage she shared with Greer, she pondered exactly what the word meant. Sent to the clerics at the age of five, she hardly remembered living in the home of her parents, and although the parents managed to visit them once a year, she and Greer were never taken back home even for a holiday. She had, or so she was told, two elder brothers and three elder sisters. Clare and her sister were simply two daughters too many and she tried not to think that her parents bribed the clerics to take her. But with the gifts of jewels and farm animals they gladly gave, what else could it have been?
When the door opened, Clare quickly covered her glower with a smile, a trait she learned out of necessity in her youth. “Sister, you have come back for something?”
A tall woman with Clare’s same blond hair and soft blue eyes, Greer instantly began to fan herself with her hand, “Good heavens, you will cook if you stay inside in this heat.”
It was hot. Clare tried leaving the door open earlier, but people...mostly men... kept coming to the door asking if she were unwell. She was quite well, she just wanted a wee bit of solitude. “Is it always this hot in the Highlands?”
“They say this is very rare and I believe it. Usually it is cloudy and because I love the sunshine, we mus
t enjoy it while we can. I insist you come for a walk with me.”
These days, Greer was always happy and it had a great deal to do with a certain Highlander by the name of Brendan. Once she finally let herself, she fell completely and madly in love with him and soon they would marry—that is, as soon as Clare adjusted and was able to get on by herself.
THE UNUSUAL HEAT DROVE all the people outside, even Laird Neil MacGreagor, who was sitting on a short rock wall in the courtyard. The three story keep he called home offered some shade as did nearby trees, although most trees had long since been cleared away to make room for cottages. Meandering paths connected both old and new cottages surrounding the Keep, a river marked the clan’s border to the north and a lush, wide glen to the south held their herds of horses, cattle and sheep.
Normally surrounded by men, this day was no exception and Laird Neil MacGreagor found himself giving fewer orders, since most of the harder labors could be put off for a cooler day. The women congregated on the opposite side of the courtyard, and sat in chairs under the shade of the trees, fussing with sewing or just watching the children play. The boys, Neil’s son Justin included, played a game flicking small stones at other small stones, trying to force them over a line drawn in the dirt. Little girls stayed closer to their mothers and pretended they were queens, while babies slept in wooden boxes.
But when Greer and Clare walked by, the men could not seem to help themselves. Several stopped in mid-sentence and gawked at Clare’s beauty. The women, on the other hand, watched the besotted men and then glared until the men noticed. More than one guilty husband quickly came to kiss his wife and reassure her, but those who did not take the trouble were sure to face intense discussions later.
CHAPTER II
GREER LOOPED HER ARM through her sister’s, and waited until they were down the path between the newer cottages and could not be overheard. “The lads want to know what they must do to get your notice.”
Clare took a deep breath and let it out. “I did not come here to marry, I came to escape the Abbey and be with you. Let them marry the ones who are willing.”
“You do not intend to take a husband?”
“Not now and perhaps not ever. Besides, I have nothing to offer a husband. All I know how to do is weed gardens and the lads do that here.”
“I thought you hated weeding gardens.”
“I surely do, but I know nothing else. I am not a weaver, I do not know how to sew or cook, or even wash clothes. My punishment was the gardens.”
“Punishment?”
“I would not consent, you see.”
“Oh, I do see.” Greer stopped them for just a moment before they started into the pastures. “Watch where you walk. Nothing is more unpleasant than to get droppings on your shoes. I should know I have stepped in it often enough.” She enjoyed a rare smile from her sister and started them walking again. “What kind of life did you dream of before you left the Abbey?”
“Mostly, the kind a woman like me cannot have. I never truly believed I would leave the Abbey so I tried not to dream. And I must confess, life in the Highlands never crossed my mind.”
Greer stopped walking and turned her sister to face the highest hill. “I want to climb that hill but if we try, a dozen lads will come to protect us.”
“Only a dozen? I am appalled.”
Greer giggled. “Perhaps we might outrun them and get away before they catch up.”
“Run...uphill? The heat has addled your brain.”
“In that case, we will try it on a cooler day. What I mean to say is...avoiding lads no matter where one goes is impossible. They are everywhere and they want to be near you. It is not wrong of them; it is the way of lads and lasses.”
“I know you are right, it is just that I am not ready. I want to learn to breathe first, to come and go without permission and to enjoy my freedom.”
“And you fear a husband would take your freedom away?”
Clare closed her eyes and nodded. “You do understand.”
“Of course I do, I lived in the Abbey for a time too.”
“It is not her fault she is bonnie.” Seated on the grass several feet away from the others in the courtyard, Dora absentmindedly played with the end of her braided red hair, and watched Glenna put Ceanna over her shoulder and begin to pat the baby’s back.
Dora was the first of the English dairy maids to consent to become a bride in Scotland just a few short weeks ago. Neither she nor Carol had settled on a man, nor had any of the men settled on them. For a time, Dora thought Moan preferred her and then there were others who caught her eye, but although they were pleasant enough, none seemed to develop into an attachment. The language barrier made it too hard to communicate.
Dora was not alone. Most of the over fifty women brought from England were still trying to learn enough Gaelic and had not chosen husbands. Neil feared those who had, chose too quickly and declared all weddings postponed for a time.
It seemed to Carol the heat made everyone ill-tempered, although she believed she was handling it better than most. Still, she could not help complaining on this one particular subject. “But did you see how Clare walked in front of all the lads?”
“Where would you have her walk? Should she go all the way around the village to get to the other side? Even then, lads would still turn to watch her,” said Dora.
“Then the lads should be told not to look at her.”
“If a lad does not look, I would think him near death. Even Neil looked.”
Carol drew in a sharp breath, “Did his wife notice.”
“I do not know, but I imagine there is little Glenna does not notice.”
“She does not look upset.” Carol glanced at the faces of some of the other married women to see if they were upset. Some did not look happy. “Dora, if we do not do something about Clare, the rest of us are not likely to have a husband. They all want her.”
“Do something about Clare? What are you suggesting?”
Carol stood up and brushed off the back of her skirt. Her blond hair was long enough to braid and then tie in a knot on top of her head to keep it off her neck. The braid made a loop some of the other women found delightful and tried to imitate. “I am not suggesting anything. I am just saying I liked it much better when Clare hid behind that brown hood.” She turned and headed back to the river where she believed the air was cooler.
AS THEY USUALLY DID, the men who kept watch on the outskirts of their land in the daytime, exchanged places with the night guards and returned home late in the afternoon. Almost always they had at least some snippets of gossip gathered from other clans passing through the land. It was Tristan who rode into the courtyard, quickly dismounted and went to give Neil the news. Intentionally, he kept his voice low hoping not to upset the women.
“Slain?” Neil could hardly believe his ears and he too kept his voice low, which caused the men to move in closer and the women’s ears to perk up.
“Three executioners,” Tristan continued. “The newly crowned king has vowed to expose the lads responsible, but most believe the new king himself is responsible.”
“So it begins,” Neil muttered.
“Aye, the English are beside themselves with grief over the loss of their beloved king, and they greatly fear the new one. They say it is George of Leics. Scotland’s king left straight away from his residence in the south to the one in the north. It is said he did not even wait for his wife and children to make ready before he and his guard rode swiftly away. What do you think it means, Neil?”
“It means we got out of England with the brides just in time, and life is about to change for all of us. Walrick, tomorrow you and Brendan will ride to Laird MacPhearson and ask what he has heard. Ask to see his dragon and he will know I sent you.”
“Done,” said Walrick. He quickly got up from his seat on the wall and went off to find Brendan.
Neil then turned to Gelson. “Take Burk and ask the same of Laird Graham.” He waited for Gelson’s nod and t
hen turned back to the guard. “You have done well. Find Luag and send him to me, then go to your rest.”
As soon as Tristan was gone, Neil walked across the courtyard to his wife, bent down and kissed Glenna’s forehead. Then he took the baby out of her arms and cradled her. “I see you are eating well, my little love. You will soon be too heavy for even me.” He smiled at the baby’s gurgle.
“Husband, has the guard brought unhappy news?”
Neil glanced at all the women watching and waiting for his response. “Unfortunately, it is unhappy news. The king of England was murdered.”
Glenna could not help but bring her hand up to cover her gasp. “I must tell Jessup.”
“Aye. Tell her I would like a word with her when she is able. And see if you can get her to let the lads take her bed outside. It cannot be good for her or the baby to be inside in this heat.”
“I will convince her.” Glenna put her cheek next to his, lovingly touched her daughter’s hair and then motioned for two men to come with her.
WHAT JESSUP MACGREAGOR, beloved friend to the slain Kind of England, did not need, was more bad news and her loudly complaining baby was just as unhappy.
It was customary for a woman to stay in bed for weeks after giving birth, and most women were unhappy with the condition after only a few days. But the fear of losing a wife drove the men to insist upon it. So when Glenna knocked on the door, she was not surprised that Lucas opened it.
She smiled, went in and looked at her friend. “Just as I thought, you are red in the face from this heat and the child is too hot as well.” She took the baby out of his box, walked to the door and held it open so the breeze could cool him. “Lucas, if you will lift your wife, the lads will take her bed outside.”
Lucas was more than happy to oblige. The sweat was pouring off of him too, but when he reached for her, Jessup glared. “I am quite capable of walking.”
“You are quite capable of stubbornness too. However, I will agree to anything to get out of this heat.”