Title: A HIGHLAND
EMERALD
Author: Brenda Taylor
Publisher: Bethabara Press
Pages: 268
Genre: Scottish Historical Romance
BOOK BLURB:
Aine MacLean is forced into an arranged marriage with Sir
William, Chief of Clan Munro, yet her heart belongs to a handsome young warrior
in her father’s guard. She must leave Durant Castle,
the home of her birth on the Isle of Mull, and travel across Scotland in a
perilous journey to her husband’s home on Cromarty Firth. William agrees to a
year and day of handfasting, giving Aine an opportunity to accept him and his
clan. He promises her the protection of Clan Munro, however, Aine experiences
kidnapping, pirates, and almost loses her life in the River Moriston. She
doubts the sincerity of William’s promises and decides to return to Durant Castle
when the handfasting ends. William determines to win Aine’s heart. Will the
brave knight triumph in his fight for the bonnie lass?
A Highland
Emerald is the third book in the award-winning Highland Treasures series.
The novel tells the story of Aine MacLean and William Munro and is the prequel
to A Highland Pearl.
ORDER YOUR COPY:
Chapter One
Isle of Mull
Isle
of Mull
Scotland, 1486 A.D.
My
father sat on his usual chair in front of the crackling fire, staring at the
flames with dim eyes, a fur robe wrapped around his broad shoulders, the
deerhound curled at his feet.
“Where are you going, Aine?” he
asked with his back turned toward the stone, spiral staircase where I stood.
“Come, sit with me for awhile.”
I pushed the arisaid from my
shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, then stepped over the wrap, making my
way to the stool where my mother's embroidery frame stood. I took a seat and
watched the flames.
Without turning his head, my
father, Lachlan Og MacLean, eighth Chief of Clan MacLean and fourth Laird of
Durant Castle, asked, “Where are you going?”
“How did you ken 'twas I?”
He never ceased to amaze me
with his uncanny knowledge of events around him although his eyes, so dimmed by
injury, saw very little.
“I heard the rustle of your
skirts.” Da extended his hand for me, so I rose and hugged his neck. He smiled,
embracing my arms. “And I ken your scent, lass. ’Tis so like your mither's. You
use the same scented soap as she.”
“Aye, but from so far away and
with the smell of burning wood and dog in your nostrils?”
“Your odor is a different
pleasantry among the usual burning wood and dog. It stands out in my memory as
does the pleasant odor of your mither.”
He smiled broadly, showing
still straight, white teeth beneath a greying beard. I could almost feel his
penetrating gaze upon me as in the days before a battle injury took his sight.
He asked, “Where are you going
this dreary night?”
“Here, Da. To sit beside you
and talk of the feast on the morrow.”
“Don't try to deceive me, lass.
I heard the sound of your arisaid dropping to the floor. You are planning a
tryst, I feel certain.”
His dimmed gaze pierced through
to the depths of my soul.
“I could see the turn of your
head toward him each time he spoke at the eve’s meal.” A line formed between my
father’s brows and a shadow darkened his face. “You are to marry the Munro.”
“I dinna love William Munro.”
My voice began to rise, and I struggled to control the cry climbing from the
depths of my heart. “I wanna marry him, Da. You promised I could wed for love,
not convenience.”
The cry emerged from my lips. I
buried my head on his shoulder and sobbed.
Da rose, grabbed my hand and
pulled me to face him, wrapping his powerful arms around my shoulders. He
stroked my hair and planted a kiss atop my head. Disturbed, the great dog
stood.
My heart ached to please Da, I
loved him so. His tender embrace brought back memories of my childhood when he
comforted me after a fall or some aggravation caused by my three older
brothers. We stood for a long time.
He gently pushed me away,
looking into my eyes and planting a kiss on my forehead. “I only want the best
for you, sweetling. You’re my heart, you ken. I dinna wish to leave this world
without you being in the care of a good mon. The Munro is a good mon.” He
hesitated then added, “With wealth and title.”
I looked into his faded blue
eyes that once shone with the brilliance of the azure sky on a sunny day. He
could only see the outline of my face whilst standing close, now. “If you truly
desire the best for me, you'll let me marry the love of my heart, not some
bloat because of his title. Titles mean naught to me, Da.” Tears streamed from
my eyes, wetting my cheeks. I pulled away from his grasp, swiping at the
wetness with a sleeve.
“The Munro is a good mon and a
fierce warrior. ’Tis nae better for a husband. He’ll be here on the morrow.
We’ll have a feast to celebrate your marriage.”
“He’s old. I’m only eighteen
summers. I shan’t attend.” Sometimes the stubbornness of my nature overtook
good sense. I knew not to speak to my father in such a manner. He also
possessed an immovable streak, and his word overruled my desires.
“He’s no’ old, Aine. A few
years your senior, but no’ old by any means. When he’s my age, then he’ll be
old.”
I continued to sniff, wetting
the front of his léine.
“All right, Aine. If that’s the
way this game is to be played. You'll be watched until after the celebration
and you depart with the Munro.”
The words spewed from Da’s
mouth. A sinister, dark shadow cloaked his face. Muscles twitched in his jaws
and his hands clenched in tight fists. I stepped back. He abruptly turned,
making his way up the stone steps to the upper story bed chambers, feeling the
wall for security. When his foot struck the arisaid I’d dropped on the stair,
he reached down, seized the garment, flung it with a vehemence I rarely
witnessed from him, and continued up the staircase. The large dog followed at
his heels. Not knowing what to do, I grabbed the arisaid, wrapped it closely
around my shoulders, pulled the hood over my head, then ran toward the door of
the great hall. Ellic waited in the garden. I wanted to be near him, feel his
embrace, and listen to the sweet words he would whisper in my ear.
I pulled on the large oaken
door, reinforced with bands of iron, and stepped into the damp, grey air of
gloaming. The large figure of Da’s luchd-taighe,
Sion MacLean, filled the portal when I tried to close the door. He put up a
massive arm, keeping the door from closing. I stared at him, and he back at me.
“Did Da send you to watch me?”
I asked the huge brute.
“Aye,” he answered, stepping
out of the keep, but leaving the door open.
“I’m going to meet Ellic
Garvie, in case you are wondering. He waits for me in the stables, so be sure
to report my tryst to Da. He kens, anyway.”
Ellic Garvie, one of the
warriors in Da’s slaugh and a member
of his luchd-taighe, held an
attraction for me and I for him. I turned on my heels.
Sion grabbed my arm, jerking me
toward the door. “You're no’ going to the stables this eve.”
I tried to jerk my arm from his
powerful grasp, but he held tightly whilst pulling me toward the door.
Pushing me inside, he said with
a hiss, “Stay put, lass, or Laird MacLean will lock you in your room.”
I didn’t answer, only returned
his gaze. The big oaf. The door closed in my face, and I heard him walk away.
Giving the guard time to leave the keep’s vicinity and enter the outer bailey
housing the stables, I carefully opened the large door to squeeze through so
only a slit of light shone on the cobblestones, closed the door, then made my
way to the garden enclosure beside the keep. Upon entering the garden, I
glanced back to make certain no one followed, then took the rose-lined garden
path to the very end. Ellic’s dark form emerged from the shadow of an apple
tree beside the stone wall. I rushed into his strong, powerful arms. He pulled
me close, and I buried my head on his chest. Tears fell from my eyes, wetting
his jacket.
Ellic held me away, my eyes met
his in the last light of gloaming. Their dark color grew darker and ominous as
his lips brushed mine with a tender caress. I could not help but respond. The
kiss grew harder, more passionate until he broke away, holding both my arms.
His ale-tainted breath fanned
my face. “I love you, Aine. You must come with me to Oban. My aunt works at Dunollie Castle as the lady’s maid. We’ll be
married there and I can join the slaugh
of MacDougall and perhaps become part of his luchd-taighe. The Laird of Lorne provides well for his people.”
My voice hitched remembering
Da’s words. “I canna. Da is having me watched now. The Munro is arriving on the
morrow for our marriage ceremony.”
He looked around. “Where is
your guard?”
“I sent him to the stables
looking for you, but I feel certain he will come here soon.” His lips hushed my
words, taking my breath away. I turned my head from his and snuggled into his
broad chest, feeling the prickly wool of the great plaide draped over his
shoulder on my cheek. “I love you so,” I whispered.
He took my chin, raising my
face to his. “Then come with me tonight.”
Suddenly, a vision of my life
wed to William Munro flashed through my mind. He was an older man and lived a
long distance from Durant
Castle, my home. I wanted
a young, powerful warrior like Ellic. Da may disinherit me and no longer call
me his daughter, but my heart could do naught else.
“Aye. I will come with you.
Tell me the way.”
“Who is your guard?” He stepped
back, rubbing his chin in deep thought.
“The brute, Sion. He will ne’er
let me slip by him to meet you.”
Ellic grew silent, then backed
to the stone wall, pulling me with him and gathering me into his arms. We
kissed as a full moon rose in the east, casting white, silvery light into the
garden. His brown hair glisten in the moonbeams. Ellic was the most handsome of
Da’s guards. The thought of leaving him to marry another twisted the inner most
part of me into a tight knot. I knew at that moment, I could never marry the
Munro.
“Sion will drink and make merry
along with the others at the feast. He’ll sleep instead of watch at your door,
then you can slip out and meet me by the postern gate.”
“What of the guards at the
postern gate? Da will have extra posted during the festivities with so many
warriors inside getting drunk.”
“Fret no’, my men and I will
take care of the guards. A birlinn is ready to take us across the Straight of
Mull to Dunollie.”
The thought of leaving with
Ellic made my heart thump until I felt certain he could hear its beating.
“Now go. Sion will find us
soon, and you shouldn’t be seen with me.”
He gave me one last lingering
kiss, then pushed me toward the garden gate. I hastened down the path, glancing
back for one last look at my love, but he was gone. The bright moon lit the
pathway out of the garden. I emerged, but did not see Sion in the bailey.
Suddenly, a large hand grasped my arm, pulling me along toward the keep. I
tried to jerk free, but could not escape the clutches of the powerful guard.
“So you sent me on a wild goose
chase to the stables whilst you kept the tryst in the garden. Laird MacLean
will be anxious to hear all about it.” He pulled harder.
“Stop you big oaf! I’m no’ a
sack of barley to be dragged about.” I wrestled, yanking at his grasp once more
and tried not to budge from the spot, but he kept pulling until I stumbled.
We reached the keep’s entrance.
He pinned me in front of him, using both hands to open the heavy door, then
pushed me through the portal. I tripped on the threshold and fell to the stone
floor, bruising my hands and knees. Sion grabbed my arm, helped me up, and
pulled me to the spiral staircase. Several of the luchd-taighe milled around the great hall. Some glanced our way,
but said nothing. They never interfered with another’s orders. I saw none of my
family. Sion followed me up the stairs then to my bed chamber. Opening the
door, he pushed me through.
“I’ll send for Breda to care for you, for you'll no’ be
coming out until the feast on the morrow.” He stood, eyes stormy. “I’m sorry
you fell. I dinna mean to push so hard, but what I do and tell you is for your
own good. The laird is determined to keep you away from Garvie or whomever
you're meeting.” We continued to stare at each other. Determination rose like
bile in my throat. “Do you understand, m’lady?”
“Where are my brothers? They’ll
no’ let this unfair treatment continue. I wish to speak to Gillian.”
“Sir Gillian is telling Garvie
of the laird’s wishes. Since the mon is a member of the MacLean’s guards, he’ll
be allowed to stay and enjoy your marriage feast. Make nae mistake, m’lady, he
will be watched.”
The door slammed closed, and my
face burned with rage. Where are my brothers and my mother? They would never
allow such rough treatment inflicted on my person. Surely, they would come to
my rescue if they knew. Surely. I flung myself onto the bed, sobbing. My tears
wet the coverlet, so I sat up on the side of the feather mattress, reached for
a hand kertch on the small table, and blew my nose. Removing the arisaid and
flinging it to the floor, I examined my bruised hands, then pulled up my heavy
skirt to look at my knees. A small cut bled on one knee, but they were mostly
scrapped and blue. I dabbed at the cut with the hand kertch.
A knock sounded. “Who is it?” I
rose and rushed to bar the door if necessary. Sion was not coming back into my
room.
“’Tis Breda, Lady Aine. I’ve come to help you
prepare for bed,” the maid called through the door.
“Come,” I answered with a sob.
The door opened slowly. Breda entered and
observed my cut, bruised knees. She searched my eyes, hers filled with anxiety.
“I’ll fetch the healer, Lady Aine. That cut should be cared for.”
“Nae, Breda. Washing with a clean cloth is all
that’s needed.” I dabbed at the blood. “Rinse this in the basin, then wash the
cut again. It’ll be much better with the cleansing.”
Breda poured water from the pitcher
into the bowl, then rinsed the cloth. She brought it back and began to rub on
the cut knee. The cold water felt good and stopped the bleeding. She rinsed the
rag then washed the cut once more.
Handing me the cloth, she said,
“I’ll empty this bowl and fetch more water. Are you certain you dinna wish for
me to call the healer?”
“Nae. Bring my mither, and if
you see my brothers, send them also.” I needed their broad, understanding
shoulders to cry on. My brothers usually took my part in any squabble I had
with Da and Mam. Da complained they spoiled me ’til rotten, which in truth they
did. One major problem my siblings’ overprotectiveness afforded was their
interference with beaus and suitors. No man was good enough for their young
sister, and Da encouraged this attitude.
The large oak door opened with
a bang. My brother, Young Lachlan, strode to the bedside and pushed Breda aside, examining my
knee. He took both my hands, turned them over, then looked into my questioning
eyes.
“I’ll speak to Da about Sion,”
he said with shards of light glinting in his eyes.
“Nae. Please dinna make matters
worse with my father. These are naught but scratches.” I didn’t want my
brothers interfering in my relationship with Ellic. They probably knew about
our courtship since they knew all the comings and goings in Durant Castle.
My brothers were Da’s eyes and ears now.
“You ken the Munro is coming to
finalize the marriage contract.” Lachie dropped my hands, lifting my chin to
search my eyes. “What are your feelings on the matter, Aine?”
“I care no’ to meet the mon,
much less marry him. He’ll take me away to that godforsaken place on the other
side of Scotland
he calls Ferindonald.” Tears brimmed my eyes. “Away from my family and home.
Away from you, Lachie. I dinna care if he’s titled. I’ll no’ go with him.”
“I’ll speak to Da this eve,
before the Munro arrives. You're a bonnie woman, Aine. Surely he can find a
suitor closer to Durant.”
I buried my head in his wool
plaide and wept, wetting the garment.
He stroked my hair for a long
while, then pushed me away and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Take care of
your wounds, now.”
Lachie turned on his heels with
his sword clanking in the scabbard buckled around his waist. Breda began washing the cut on my knee again.
She was a good caretaker and I planned to keep her with me wherever I may go,
especially if the object of my journey happened to be FÃ rdach Castle
on the Cromarty Firth.
Mother pushed past Lachie in
the doorway. He addressed her, then moved on. She rushed to me, taking the wet
cloth from Breda
and wiping the wound on my knee. She examined the cut, then turned to the maid
and told her to fetch, MÃ dra, the healer. I tried to tell Mother I did not need
the healer, but she would not listen.
“You may get blood on your
night shift and bed linens. The cut needs a bandage and the scrapes need
plantain salve.” She searched my eyes. “Perhaps willow bark tea for pain,
also.”
“Mam,” I protested. “The wounds
are small. I dinna need willow bark tea or anything else.”
Mother told Breda to fetch the healer anyway. The maid
left, gently closing the door whilst Mam took a clean shift from the trunk at
the foot of the bed and told me to stand. She assisted with the laces of my
kirtle, then took the garment over my head. She did the same for the blouse,
and hung both from a peg on the opposite wall. I grabbed the shift from the bed
and put it on. Although a fire blazed in the fireplace, the air felt cold on my
body. I moved closer to the fire. A knock sounded on the door. Mother answered,
then Breda and
MÃ dra entered the room. Breda
held a mug.
I sat in a small upholstered
chair beside the fire whilst mother took the other. MÃ dra quickly examined my
hands, opened her leather healer’s bag and withdrew a small glass container of
salve. She spread the cool balm over the scrapes and bruises on my hands with
nimble fingers, then raised my shift and examined the cut on my knee. Shaking
her head, she wiped the seeping blood away with a clean cloth, smeared plantain
salve on the cut, then placed a linen square over the wound, tying it in place
with another, larger strip of linen.
MÃ dra searched my eyes, then
motioned for Breda
to hand me the mug. “I can tell by your eyes, you’re in some pain, m’lady.
Please drink the willow bark tea.”
I looked at Mother who nodded.
I could not fight the three of them, so taking the mug from Breda, I drank the bitter tea. The nasty brew
would help me sleep and get the rest required to resist the demands of my
father. I rose and walked toward the bed. Breda
placed the mug with the remainder of the tea on the bedside table, pulled back
the bedcovers, tucked the coverlet under my chin, then pulled the fur blanket
on top of me.
Mother stood beside the bed,
brushed the hair from my face, and kissed my forehead. “Don’t hesitate to drink
the remainder of the tea if you wake and feel pain.”
I hated being treated like a
bairn. “Mither, I am fine. Please stop treating me like a bairn.”
“You'll always be my wee
lassie, Aine. No matter how old you are.” She took Breda’s arm, and the three women left my
room.
I lay in bed searching the
plastered ceiling, thinking of Ellic, and waiting for the potion to take effect
on my wakefulness. Mayhap I should do as he asked and slip away with him in the
birlinn to Dunollie
Castle then beyond.
Someplace unknown to my family where we could live in peace the rest of our
lives.
Maybe I would do just that.
The desire
to write historical fiction has long been a passion with Brenda B. Taylor.
Since elementary school, she has written stories in her spare time. Brenda
earned three degrees: a BSE from Henderson State University, Arkadelphia,
Arkansas; a MEd from Sam Houston State University, Huntsville, Texas; and an
EdD from Texas A&M University, College Station, Texas; then worked as a
teacher and administrator in the Texas Public School system. Only after
retirement could she fulfill the dream of publication.
Brenda
and her husband make their home in beautiful East Texas
where they enjoy spending time with family and friends, traveling, and working
in Bethabara Faith Ministry, Inc. She crafts stories about the extraordinary
lives of ordinary people in her favorite place overlooking bird feeders, bird
houses, and a variety of blooming trees and flowers. She sincerely thanks all
who purchase and read her books. Her desire is that the message in each book
will touch the heart of the reader as it did hers in the writing.
Author Contact Information:
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