Read Knight in Highland Armor Online
Authors: Amy Jarecki
Knight in Highland Armor (35 page)
Author’s Note
This work of fiction is loosely based on the legend of Colin Campbell, the First Lord of Glenorchy. I found a few different accounts of this legend during my research and tried to pull the most important facts from each. Per the Black Book of Taymouth, Colin Campbell, First of Glenorchy, was also known as the Black Knight of Rome (or Black Colin of Rome), and it is believed that he participated in three tours in the Crusades. Though he was married four times, I only mentioned three wives in this story. His last two wives were Margaret Robinson and Margaret Stirling, respectively, and I could not discern for certain which one was responsible for the building of Kilchurn Castle, thus I took literary license and chose Margaret Robinson.
After they were married, Colin was called away by the Pope for this third and final crusade. It is believed he spent most of the seven years away with the Knights Hospitallers (The Order of St. John) on the Isle of Rhodes fighting the Ottoman Empire. As legend has it, Ewen MacCorkodale did try to woo Margaret during the seven years Colin was on crusade. Ewen intercepted every missive from Colin to Margaret and killed the messengers. Margaret was unaware of Ewen’s treachery and only agreed to marry him when it appeared there was no hope for Colin’s return.
The tokens were mentioned in every version of the legend (though one represented a broken ring, and the other, two rings). The charmstone still exists today and is housed at the family estate at Taymouth.
When Colin was called away shortly after their marriage, Margaret was left to build the keep and raise Duncan. The genealogy charts I used aren’t clear on the date of John’s birth, but the lad did grow up to become the Bishop of the Isles.
Also, for those who might wonder, Glen Orchy is a glen in Argyllshire, and is two words. The title, Lord of Glenorchy is one word, thus the different spellings in this book.
:
A Highland Knight’s Desire
Highland Dynasty Series~Book Two
Coming March, 2015
Chapter One
Melrose Abbey, January, 1478
Before she knelt, Meg stole a glance behind her. A silent sigh slipped through pursed lips. As he’d promised, her tenacious guard wasn’t standing at the rear of the nave watching. She had a number of things she wanted to accomplish on this pilgrimage, most importantly, gaining an audience with the abbot. After pleading nearly the entire two-day journey from Tantallon Castle, she’d convinced the guard to allow her a modicum of freedom—at least within the walls of Melrose Abbey.
Out of the corner of her eye, a bronze cross flickered. It sat atop an altar in a quiet aisle chapel. Meg tiptoed over. She’d have complete solitude there.
Kneeling, she folded her hands and gazed at the cross. She’d prayed endlessly for guidance, but presently her mind blanked. She closed her eyes. Ah, yes…
Firstly, thank you for our safe passage, and thank you for all my blessings…aside from my unruly red hair and my claw of a hand, but we’ve discussed that hundreds of times. I’m well aware Arthur will be unable to find me a suitable husband. I must take matters into my own hands…Well, give them over to you, God. That’s where I belong, serving you. Please help me gain an audience with his holiness, the abbot that I may make my wishes clear and take up the veil…
Someone tapped her shoulder. She glanced up. A pair of white-robed monks stood behind her.
“Come,” one said.
Meg’s heart fluttered. Had her prayers been answered so quickly? “Are you taking me to the abbot?”
They exchanged glances. “Aye,” the tallest one clipped. A jagged scar etched the side of his cheek.
Meg eagerly stood and gestured for them to proceed. The corner of the shorter one’s mouth smirked. They were an odd pair, indeed.
Single file, she walked between the two men. The tallest led her straight to the rood screen concealing the choir. Abruptly she stopped and clapped her hand to her chest.
The shorter one waved her forward with a flick of his wrist.
“I cannot.” She kept her voice low. “I’ve not yet taken the veil.”
The taller monk frowned, stretching his scar downward. He clamped his fingers around Meg’s elbow, his grip a bit forceful for a monk. “You must pass this way to meet the abbot.” He whispered so softly, Meg could hardly discern his words.
She drew her arm from his grasp and inclined her head toward the entry. If this was what God intended, then she’d proceed. Surely, she would commit no sin entering restricted holy ground for the purpose of declaring her wishes to become a novice.
Crossing through the ornately carved rood screen, Meg walked into the dim choir where only monks who had taken the vow of chastity, poverty and obedience were allowed to worship. The walls were lined with two tiers of choir stalls where each monk would pray from lauds to compline. Their footfalls loudly echoed up to the vaulted ceiling.
A poke in the back caught her attention. The leader had already moved through and held open a thick wooden door. Meg understood the impatient look on the man’s face. She’d seen the same expression from her brother a hundred times before. She hastened her pace. Why was there never enough time to stop and admire her surroundings?
Stepping outside into the frigid air, she shielded her eyes from the sun shining through the clouds. “I’m surprised the abbot is aware I’m here. I hadn’t yet made a request to meet with him.”
Neither man said a word. They’d just spoken to her, so they mustn’t have taken a vow of silence. Was this an area of the abbey where no one was allowed to speak? Were they near the sacred tomb where Robert the Bruce’s heart had been laid to rest—yet another thing to which Meg wanted to pay homage on this her first pilgrimage.
She quickly scanned the surrounding garden. There were no graves at all. The monks sped their pace yet again. Arriving at a doorway leading through the cloister wall, the shorter stepped beside Meg and grasped her arm. “We’ll be taking a detour, miss.” This was the first time the stout monk had spoken.
Miss?
The daughter of a Scottish earl, Meg’s respectful courtesy was “my lady”.
Something was awry.
Meg’s mind clicked.
Her blood turned to ice.
English
. No mistaking it, this man had an English accent.
“Release me.” Meg dug in her heels and yanked her arm away. Her heart flying to her throat, she shuffled backward and raised her skirts with trembling hands.
“Help!”
Gasping in short bursts, Meg sprinted toward the abbey.
Footsteps slapped the mud behind her. “Bloody hell, Isaac…”
A hand clapped over her mouth and another around her waist. Meg struggled, kicked, scratched, anything to break free. In the blink of an eye, the stocky monk hauled her outside the abbey curtain walls. Not a soul in sight, three horses stood tethered at the tree-line edge.
Screaming through the brutal palm clamped over her lips, she kicked and thrashed her entire body until the imposter brutally slapped her across the face. Recoiling, Meg’s feet touched ground. She shrieked and tried to run. Fingers of iron held her in place. A gag filled her mouth while unforgiving hands bound her wrists.
Scarred Monk grabbed Meg by the waist and hefted her onto the horse’s back, belly first. Before she could right herself, the short one lashed another rope around her wrists and tied her hands to her legs under the horse’s barrel.
Margaret cried out through the coarse cloth biting into her mouth. She jerked her arms, only to pull her legs under the horse. Her body slid sideways awkwardly.
God in heaven, why are they doing this?
Her gaze darted from side to side as she tried to scream louder, only to be muted by the foul-tasting gag.
The men mounted. One tugged her horse’s lead and raced away at a gallop. Meg clamped onto the horse’s short hair while her gut thumped into the unyielding gelding’s back. Her heart raced faster than the hoof beats. Her chin slammed into the steed’s barrel repeatedly—until stars crossed her vision.
End of Excerpt from A Highland Knight’s Desire
Scottish Historical Romances
Highland Force Series:
More Highland Dynasty romances coming in 2015:
A Highland Knight’s Desire
A Highland Knight to Remember
Highland Knight of Rapture
Pict/Roman Romances
Celtic Maid
Contemporary Romances
Virtue
Chihuahua Momma
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