The Outcast Highlander (30 page)

“I feel as if it is my fault.”

“Don’t say that, Broc.”

His head still did not lift, and his body rocked with sobs. “If I hadn’t abandoned the lass and stayed with Andrew, she never would have tried to leave this place. If I had killed Colin Ross when I had the chance at Balconie that night, he never would have brought his men up here to fight us. If I would have gone after Kensey instead of trying to fight this battle, she never would have been hurt.”

Duncan placed a hand on Broc’s shoulder and sat in silence. Broc still couldn’t look up. He feared seeing the truth in Duncan’s eyes as much as he’d feared seeing it in Kensey’s.

“I love her so much,” Broc whispered, gazing through bleary eyes into the fire. “I can’t imagine how I survived all this time away from her, but I do not wish to live the rest of my days without her.”

“You can’t change what is in the past, brother.”

Unsatisfied with this answer, Broccin couldn’t help but probe further. He’d run away from his family, from his wife. And as much as he wanted to pretend it didn’t matter, he knew it did. There was a reason Kensey called out for Duncan and Fiona. She knew they would be there. The same couldn’t be said for him.

He’d failed her, pure and simple.

“The lass stayed here for you. Even when we all thought you’d abandoned us. Even when we did not know if you were alive or dead. The lass waited for you. She loves you, brother, of that I am sure.”

“But she trusts you, instead.”

Duncan was silent. He rose from the chair and walked across the room. “She trusts you, but her fear of being wrong is also great.”

“What should I do now, then?”

“Wait for the lass,” Duncan instructed. “Wait for her as she waited for you.”

“But what if she doesn’t love me?”

“She loves you, brother. Of that, I am sure.”

***

Broccin woke later that morning to Kensey speaking in her sleep again. Her fever seemed to have subsided a bit, he noticed as he touched her. Her face no longer felt hot to the touch, although he knew she was still fevered because her forehead was burning.

“Kensey,” he whispered, smoothing the hair from her forehead. He climbed onto the side of the bed and she almost seemed to make room for him. “Kensey, I’m here.”

There was a long silence as she moaned quietly in her throat. But then she opened her mouth slowly.

“Broccin?” she slurred. Her eyes fluttered open slowly.

Broc’s heart jumped as his name passed over her beautiful lips. And at the first glimpse of those shimmering eyes, he felt like he could breathe again.

“I’m here.” He grabbed her hand in his, squeezing it gently and smiling at her. “Please speak to me, lass.”

“What are you doing here, Broccin?” she asked slowly. He couldn’t decide if her tone was surprised or angry, but he didn’t care. She knew he was there. She had asked him.

“Waiting for you to come back to me, love,” his voice was low with emotion.

“Where have I been?” she asked, still a bit unsure of her surroundings. “Where am I?”

“In our room,” answered Broccin, emphasizing
our
with a deep rumble. “You had a bad bump on your head, we were afraid for you.”

“You were?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“I thought I might lose you.”

Kensey’s eyes suddenly flared open, and she seemed more coherent and conscious than she’d ever been. Broccin’s heart thudded as she smiled at him.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Kensey said softly.

“You understand I will wait for you,” he tried to say, though his voice choked on the words. Her eyes fluttered closed again, giving no sign she’d heard him. Thinking she would go back to sleep, he tried to move off the bed, but as soon as he moved, she opened her eyes again.

“Don’t leave me,” she murmured. Her eyes continued to flutter, as if she had every intention of keeping them open, but she just couldn’t manage the strength. “Stay with me, please.” She lay back down as soon as he moved into the bed next to her.

Unconsciously, she curled into his body and seemed to rest herself with him. He could acutely feel each point where their bodies touched and encircled her with his arm, loving the feel of her silken hair on his skin.

He finally closed his eyes and simply reveled in her presence. The rosemary scent of her, the warmth of her dark hair, the beat of her heart and regular pulse of her breath. “Och, lass,” he whispered. “I love you so.” He opened his eyes and gazed down at her. “I will love you until my dying day.”

Though Kensey didn’t wake at his profession, he felt infinitely better at being able to tell her this. He relaxed his mind for the first time in days and found that sleep was quick in coming.

***

Broccin awoke from a dream that was haunted by memories of his time away from his wife. Memories of black nights in the dungeon, of days and weeks never seeing her face or hearing her voice. Having recovered from trauma before, he was prepared for the unreality of his nights to capture him once in awhile.

But to wake to an empty bed was something he had not been prepared for. When he’d quit the dream, he’d expected to find Kensey there with him, sleeping or awake, he’d wanted her to be there. And when he found her gone, he didn’t know how to react.

There was no sign of her in the room and somehow he just knew she’d left him. The words of her letter to Fiona rang in his ears like bells as he moved from the bed to look out the window.

I cannot stay here a moment longer. There is too much of Broccin in this place. I cannot stay here a moment longer. There is too much of Broccin in this place. I cannot stay here a moment longer.

His insides felt as if they were lighting on fire. A moan of agony came into his throat and he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

What was he to do without her? How could he go on if she’d left him? What would he do with himself?

“Och, Kensey.” Broccin watched the sun rise and wondered where she was. When she’d left. How far away she was and how long it would take him to catch up to her.

“Yes?” The sound behind him almost sent him off the bed. Broccin turned around quickly and could hardly believe his eyes when he saw his wife standing in the doorway.

“Wha...” he began. He couldn’t finish his thought. He was so amazed to find her there. After everything she’d said in her letter to Fiona, he couldn’t believe she was still here.

She simply stared at him, her huge eyes questioning as they stared at him through her thick brown lashes. They each seemed to be waiting for the other to speak, but Kensey refused to make the first move and Broccin was too dumbstruck to know what was going on around him.

“Where did you go?” he finally asked, finding his tongue.

“I went to check on Robert,” she said, quietly. “I heard something and I thought he might have been having another of his nightmares.” She moved toward the bed, weakly, and Broccin rushed forward to help her.

The nearness of her flooded his senses and it was all he could do to keep from crushing her in his arms and kissing the life right out of her. And he almost didn’t manage it as she could barely walk without assistance.

“When I woke to find you gone, I feared you’d left me.”

Kensey didn’t react at all, she simply looked earnestly into his eyes and asked, “How could you think that?”

“I read the letter you left for Fiona,” he admitted. “You said there was too much of me in this place and you needed to leave.” Before she had a chance to react, he continued, “And I can understand why you would wish to leave. I don’t wish to make you unhappy, and I’ll step aside if you still do not love me.”

“Not love you?” She stopped for a moment, her mouth wide. “How could you ever think that?” She reached a warm hand to the side of his face to steady his gaze to hers. “If anything, I loved you too much to stay here without you.”

Broccin immediately looked away, unable to look at her for his shame. “I’m so sorry, lass, I did not mean to leave you here.”

“No more worrying,” she insisted. “It’s all in the past.”

“But there is so much I’ve done to hurt you.”

“Don’t doubt that I intended to leave, and that I was hurt. But when you came back, and hearing that you love me… it changes everything. Love doesn’t end because you cause me pain. I’m certain of that.” The corners of her mouth curved upward, languorously.

Broccin finally found the courage to bend his mouth to hers for a kiss. It was the first kiss he’d shared with her that he felt was really right. And when he pulled away, he could barely breathe.

“Och, lass, I should have never left you.”

“Don’t think of the past,” she insisted. “We have to start fresh, now. From the beginning. Our new beginning. And we can make up for all the mistakes we made. Both of us.”

“I thought I’d lost you so many times these last few days.” Broc smoothed her hair away from her eyes with his thumbs. “It nearly killed me to think that I’d never be able to tell you how much I loved you.”

“But you can tell me now.” She settled into his arms and sighed. “And for the rest of our lives. I promise you that.”

Want to know what happened to Malcolm? Lachlan? Elizabeth? Albert?

Read more about the Sinclairs, the MacLeods, and the rest of the Highland Renegades in upcoming books from R.L. Syme, coming in 2014. Join the Big Hopes, Big Heroes newsletter for deleted scenes, news on forthcoming books, prequels, and more!

Other Books from R.L. Syme

From the Highland Renegades Series

of Medieval Scottish Historical Romance:

The Outcast Highlander
(2013)

The Runaway Highlander
(coming in 2014)

From the Montana Smokejumper Series

of Contemporary New West Inspirational Romance:

His Wounded Heart
(2013)

His Forgotten Past
(coming in 2014)

All with Big Hopes and Big Heroes under Big Skies!

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~~ Where To Find Me ~~

Read more of the Highland Renegades Books coming in 2014. Watch my website at
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and from there, join my newsletter to hear all about both the Highland Renegades books releasing and my Montana Smokejumpers contemporary inspirational romance with Pelican Books.

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The Outcast Highlander
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~ Author’s Note ~

Given that so many fans of historical romance are really fans of history, I wanted to say a few things about the history in this book. First of all, this is primarily a work of fiction and not intended to portray the events exactly as they happened. I know we say that earlier, on the copyright page, but I wanted to reiterate that, just for old time’s sake. I love history, but my favorite part of history is getting to make it into fiction.

About Andrew de Moray: he was a real person. I have no idea what his sympathies really were, but I’d like to think that just because the man was a noble doesn’t preclude him from also being an idealist. I choose to see him as an idealist. Elizabeth, his wife in this book, is completely a work of fiction. She is not intended to be any resemblance to Andrew’s real wife, even though we know so little about his real wife.

About the Scottish Wars of Independence: they really happened, of course, and so much fiction has been written around them. The main purpose for having them as a background is because they happened to be a medieval war and there were times of relative peace in many areas of Scotland during them. This will allow me to tell the stories of the characters I have imagined, as they lived, and then also, as they interacted with the politics of their day—some obviously more than others.

The first draft of this book had Broccin at the Battle of Stirling Bridge with Andrew de Moray. That was back when Broccin really was torn about his love for his wife. Subsequent drafts saw him become less and less so, to my ultimate happiness. But at his core, Broc is a divided man for most of the book. However, after realizing that he was not one to be jostled about by his fate, I changed it. In a subsequent book, the Battle of Stirling Bridge will make another appearance, but Broc will not be there. Was the head of the Sinclair family at the Battle of Stirling Bridge? I could not find any evidence for or against. It’s just my imagination, which apparently, also changes.

About a few historical pieces. The English king really did require his Scottish nobles to present at Berwick to swear allegiance in July of 1296. Unlike what the movie
Braveheart
portrays, they were not all killed. Neither were they killed in 1280. It is my firm belief that a large part of the reason why Scotland never did unite in the early years of the interregnum was because Edward didn’t do stupid things like mass killings. However, keeping one or two nobles imprisoned was just the kind of public statement he would have likely made. Whether or not the MacLeod laird was imprisoned is not known.