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Authors: Escape To The Highlands

BOOK: April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 02
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Jacqueline felt bad for deceiving the lad and for her rude behavior but she did not want to waste time and she needed his help. She impatiently waited for his reply. She was certain that he would not refuse the offer of payment.

“Alright, my lady. But I must have the coins first.”

Jacqueline pulled out her small leather pouch and handed the lad three coins. He greedily took them and asked for her to wait as he ran back to his house to inform his father. Shortly after, the lad ran to an overweight-looking mare and tightened the straps on the saddle.

“Da says that I am no’ to refuse a woman of the church. I am ready now, my lady.”

Jacqueline looked down at her garb and did not take account that she still wore her clothing from the abbey. “Very well then.”

Together the two of them raced eastward. The lad explained that the dirt road would take them as far as Inveraray but then they would have to head north to cross the river that divided the lands. Jacqueline was glad for the lad’s knowledge of directions.

Alongside the road were several small mounds of rocky ground covered by moss and green grass. Cows and goats grazed upon the open prairie and the land was spotted with purple thistles sticking out from the ground. On top of high peaks of the hilly terrain, Jacqueline could see for miles.

The mountains in the distance, the endless cloud-covered sky as well as the abundance of various wildlife creatures running throughout the land by their presence. Even a herd of deer dashed out, chasing each other and hiding from danger. Scotland seemed so much more alive to Jacqueline than she had ever noticed, and so very different than England.

To her, thinking of England was nothing more than a land of proper and duty, but a very cold place. She had lived her whole life, doing what she was told and acting the way a suitable lady should. But since she had been in Scotland, she had been able to be herself and not be judged so harshly.

Jacqueline and Fergusson only engaged in small talk on their travel. Jacqueline did not feel comfortable revealing too much of herself or her mission to the strange lad. She believed that the less he knew that safer they both would be. When they passed through small villages, she let Fergusson do the talking while she remained silent, which for a nun was not uncommon. He acquired food and supplies for them to continue their journey and even bartered with an old farmhand to stay one night in his barn among a pallet of hay so that they did not have to sleep outside in the cold.

Fergusson was proving out to be a very useful and helpful lad. She would have to remind herself to speak to the Bruce about his eager assistance. But keeping her mind on just one thing was hard enough. Since she learned of her uncle’s treachery, Ewan had not crossed her mind. Only to set things right and exalt the MacKinnon Clan of any wrong-doing to her and her family.

 

 

“Taken? What do ye mean taken? Who took her?” Ewan yelled at the priest within the church, not caring if it was a house of God or not. For there would be no peace tonight until Jacqueline was found.

“I am sorry, Ewan. Two Scottish outlaws kidnapped her several days ago. We dinna ken where they took her,” he calmly replied.

“She could already be dead. They probably took her to claim her ransom. Why was she no’ under protection?” he asked Robert the Bruce who was standing next to the priest.

“Ewan, perhaps we should have this conversation in a more private place,” Robert suggested.

“To hell wit yer private place,” Ewan hollered.

Robert turned to him and put his hand on his shoulder. “Ewan, come.”

Ewan huffed and clenched his fists together wanting to hit something, anything. He followed Robert outside and impatiently looked at him, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.

“We will find her, Ewan.”

“I should nay have left her,” Ewan said shaking his head in blame and frustration.

First he failed his cousin and now Jacqueline.

“Come back to Carrick. We will send out a search party. Someone may have seen them,” Robert offered.

Nodding his head, he followed Robert to the horses. It had been years since Ewan had last prayed. Aye, he was a man of God, but since the day his sister Alexa died, he had not sought God’s counsel, until today. He prayed that Robert was right, that they would find Jacqueline safe and sound.

             

 

Happy to arrive at Carrick in the early hours of the morning, Jacqueline raced her horse up the trail to the gate. The two guards at the gate refused Jacqueline and Fergusson’s request to enter. Jacqueline begged to them to allow her to pass, but they insisted that with their laird not present, no visitors were allowed to enter.

“Please, if the Bruce is not present, perhaps I can speak to someone else,” Jacqueline asked.

The two men turned them away and ignored her pleas. Jacqueline stared at the closed wooden gate, feeling hopeless.

“I apologize, my lady,” Fergusson sorrowfully said.

“Ye should go home, Fergusson. You have brought me here as requested and you have completed your task,” Jacqueline said as she handed him the last of her coins.

“My lady, I will no’ leave ye alone.”

“I am not alone, Fergusson. Thank your father for me as well,” she said as she turned her horse around and started back down the trail.

Jacqueline refused to tell Fergusson the truth. He had done all he could do to help her, but now she was on her own. As the horse slowly trotted towards the hills, Jacqueline considered on returning to England. She thought that perhaps if she could explain to her brother about her uncle’s ploy she would be granted leniency. It was her only hope.

 

 

“Lad, dinna ye ken that standing in the middle of the road will only get ye killed? Dinna ye see me coming. My horse could have trampled o’er ye,” Ewan asked.

“So, so sorry, My Laird,” Fergusson bowed and stepped aside.

“I am no’ the laird of this castle, therefore ye do no’ need to address me so formally.”

“I dinna mean to bother ye, sir. I was just wondering if I should return home or follow the lady I accompanied here. I dinna think me father would be verra happy wit me if I just left a lady to travel out alone.”

Why are lasses so stubborn that they insist on travelling alone?
Ewan thought as he was once again reminded of Jacqueline’s stubbornness, but he had no time to waste on some other foolish lass who was out to get herself killed.

“Ye better go after her. Ye ken how dangerous it can be fer a lass to travel alone,” Ewan advised.

“Aye, but no’ this one,” he said as he began to walk towards his horse. As he mounted and yelled back, “She is an English lady and can be verra persistent fer a nun.”

Ewan swung his head over his shoulder to look back at the lad riding off. Lurching forward, he yanked the reins turning his horse around to catch up with the lad. When he reached the side of his horse, he grabbed onto Fergusson’s reins and caused his horse to come to an abrupt halt.

“What did ye just say?”

“I said that she was persistent,” Fergusson replied.

“English. Ye said the lass was an English nun.”

“Aye, but she no’ act like a nun.”

Ewan dropped Fergusson’s reins and took off racing towards the hills. Only one stubborn English lass in all of Scotland and she be Jacqueline.

 

 

Jacqueline felt the soreness in her thighs from the day-long ride. She crossed her leg over to the side and jumped down. Walking the horse to the nearest tree, she tied him up so that she could stretch out her limbs. She took out a sporran that Fergusson had acquired and walked over to a fresh pond and began to fill it. At the base of the hill, she heard a rider approaching. Keeping still, she allowed the container to fill and carefully placed the top back onto the sporran to seal it tight.

The rider rode fast and hard. She was just about to turn back towards her horse when she noticed the color of the plaid draped over the back side of the horse. Ewan?

“Ewan,” Jacqueline bellowed out.

The hooves of the rider’s horse skid through a pile of leaves and twigs until he came to a halt. Ewan looked up in her direction. Once Jacqueline confirmed that it was truly him, she ran down the hill as fast as she could, careful not to fall. Ewan leaped down from his horse just in time as Jacqueline threw herself into his arms. Ewan picked her up across the waist and swung her around, feeling both elated and relieved that she was alive. Jacqueline slightly pulled away and pressed her lips against his in a hard and passionate kiss as Ewan combed his fingers through her hair and pressed her body closer and tighter to his. Jacqueline continued to kiss him furiously only to break for short breaths.  

“Slow down, lass. Ye are going to make me come undone.”

“I should never have doubted you. I am so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?” Jacqueline asked continuing to hold onto the sides of his arms, refusing to let go.

“My lady, I am no’ mad at ye. I was worried about ye. I was told that ye were taken.”

“Yes, I was and it is a very long story, but we can talk about that later. Right now, I am just so happy to see you. I have missed you dearly and I...I,” her voice trailed off, overwhelmed by emotion.

“Ah lass, I will ne’er let ye go again,” he said as he leaned down and lightly kissed her.

“I never want you to, but there is something I must tell you before another word is spoken. I was wrong about your father and about you. I now know the truth behind my parent’s death and who really killed them.”

“Ye dinna need to apologize.”

“Yes, I do because, because I love you. I have from the moment I met you.”

Ewan softly pressed both of his hands against her cheeks and looked deep into her eyes. Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent.

“I love ye too,” he replied.

Jacqueline looked up at him and kissed him. “Marry me.”

“Ye want to get married?”

“Aye,” she replied smiling up at him.

 

Chapter 15

 

 

In a small village that they had past,
Ewan and Jacqueline stood in front of the priest while he cited the vows of marriage. With no friends or family present, only a few villagers stood in as witnesses. Ewan had promised Jacqueline a proper celebration when they returned to Dunakin.

A very kind peasant woman within the village had offered her a gown to wear as a wedding gift while her daughter made Jacqueline a crown of flowers to wear in her hair. Jacqueline was mesmerized by the beautiful Latin words the priest spoke. As he wrapped a piece of Ewan’s plaid around their hands signifying their bond, he announced them as husband and wife. The villagers cheered.

Jacqueline reached up onto her tippy toes to kiss her husband. Ewan lowered his lips down to hers and gave her a sweet subtle kiss. Both Ewan and Jacqueline turned towards the priest and thanked him before leaving the church.

“Will we be traveling tonight to your home at Dunakin?”

“Nay, tonight we will stay at Carrick. I plan on loving my wife on our wedding night,” he replied with a sultry smile on his face.

Jacqueline was a little nervous thinking about the bedding. Too embarrassed to say anything, she was not sure that she would be able to satisfy him, but she kept quiet. Riding onto the front of Ewan’s horse, she relaxed in his protective arms. She had so much to tell him since they had last seen each other, and she had so many questions about what had happened at Falkirk.

At sundown, Ewan rode through the gates of Carrick requesting to speak with Robert. As he got down from the horse, he reached up his hands to help Jacqueline down. Ewan directed the stable lad to tie up the horse as they walked hand in hand towards the staircase to the great hall.

“I see ye have found yer bonny lass,” Robert happily said.

“Aye. She be my bonny wife now,” Ewan responded.

“Wife? Well then there’s a congratulations in order. My lady,” Robert said as he raised Jacqueline’s hand and kissed it.

“We need a room fer the night. We will be leaving for Dunakin in the morn’.”

“Aye, of course. Ye will have to join me during evening meal. It will be served shortly.” Robert turned to one of the maids cleaning the hearth in the corner. “Una, please show MacKinnon and his bride to one of the vacant bedchambers.”

“Aye, My Laird.”

Ewan and Jacqueline followed Una up the stairs to the first door to the right of the staircase. Jacqueline bit her lower lip feeling her stomach tightening in knots and her knees knocking together. Everything had happened so quickly over the past few days. Feeling herself blush, she tried to hide her face from him.

Ewan swung the door open to the room. As they stepped inside, the hair on Ewan’s arms raised from the stale chilled air. He walked over to the fireplace in the far end of the room and gathered a few logs next to it. One by one, he stacked them high and lit them into a blazing fire.

“It will nay be long until this room gets warm. This must be a chamber that has no’ been used in a while.”

“Thank ye,” he heard Jacqueline nervously reply.

“Are ye alright?”

“Yes,” she replied looking down at her feet.

“Ye are nervous,” he concluded.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing, she continued to fidget with her hands. Ewan stood up from the ground and slowly walked over to her. Tilting her chin up forcing her to look into his eyes, he brushed his nose against hers. Jacqueline was so different than the whores and barmaids he had bedded. He wanted this night to be different. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her and he had all night to seduce her.

Bending down, Ewan tenderly placed a series of small soft kisses onto her lips. He felt Jacqueline open her mouth slightly allowing him to brush his tongue along hers. Raising his hands, he softly pressed them on both sides of her cheeks and drew her in closer to deepen the kiss. How he loved the taste of her.

Entwining his hand with hers, Ewan carefully walked her over to the bed and gently pushed her down onto the top as he covered her with his body. Taking his time, he kissed alongside her soft jawline, down her neck to her collar bone. His hand smoothed down the side of her stopping just above the hip and bringing it back up to cup her breast. He could feel each curve beneath his hand, wishing away the restricted cloth she wore between his fingers and her silky skin. Ewan enjoyed the torment as it made him yearn to be inside of her.

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