Rumors Among the Heather (11 page)

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Authors: Amanda Balfour

Tags: #romance, #Historical, #Scotland, #scottish, #highlander, #Medieval, #terry spear, #amanda balfour

BOOK: Rumors Among the Heather
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“Don’t stare at me
like that.” Her breathing became ragged rasps of air. She turned
away, but he moved closer. “Don’t do this to me.”

“What am I doing? You
were willing the other night. Nay, you enjoyed my closeness.”

“Things are different
now. I’ve had time to think. Let go of me.” Julie began to squirm,
but he held her still.

Matthew moved closer.
He released her wrist, but his arm draped over her shoulder. The
lips that excited so much inside her, burned her, and made her want
more were again insisting, drawing her within their web. The fire
he generated spread over her, consuming Julie. She felt her
traitorous body weaken, her reserve crumbled, and she kissed him
ardently.

Matthew’s skillful
hands undid her bodice. Her breasts strained against the fabric,
desiring his fiery touch. He pushed her farther down onto the sandy
beach. He kissed her tenderly and caressed her flesh until passion
took over, and she had no will of her own.

The calm of the beach
splintered when laughter and the sound of horses’ hooves bore down
on them. Matthew tugged Julie behind the boulder they were sitting
beside. The interruption brought her to her senses. She stared down
at her open bodice. With trembling fingers, she put her clothing
back together and hastily stood up, but only after Ian and his
riding teacher passed their hiding place.

Before Matthew could
say anything, Julie raced up the beach. She thought she heard
Matthew groan and say something she was sure she did not want to
hear. She kept telling herself she’d had a lucky escape until she
was behind the door of her room.

* * *

Matthew managed to
stay out of her way, or she managed to stay out of his, for the
next several days. The day of the games arrived without any further
incident, and Julie and Ian entered Mrs. Parsons’s inn to find her
smiling and laughing amid the chaos, despite the possibility of
inclement weather.

“It’s a dark, damp day
for the games. Do you think there’ll be a good turn out?” Julie
asked.

“Not to worry, Miss
Hastings. The sun is going to burn off the fog. Did you feel that
nice wind blowing when you came in? It’s coming from the west.
It’ll be sure to chase those clouds away,” Mrs. Parsons
chirped.

“This is my first time
at the games.”

“You’ll not be
disappointed. I don’t know when I’ve been more excited. My inn is
filled to capacity.”

Julie listened to
sounds of merriment surrounding the inn. The entire village was
filled and bursting at the seams with revelers. Still more people
seem to arrive. Her fascination with the crowd was cut short as a
mournful wailing assaulted the air.

“What’s that sad sound
I hear?”

“Oh, that’s just
Robbie getting his bagpipes ready. You just don’t know what a time
yer in for,” Mrs. Parsons said, smiling.

A bit later, Julie and
Ian departed to get ready for his race. He was almost as tall as
the other boys, but much slimmer. She watched him take off and
disappear over the hill—somewhere in the body of the pack of
runners. She did not believe he would win, but she hoped he would
do well. She waited with anxious parents looking for their sons to
top the last hill into town.

She heard the roar of
the crowd and looked up to see Jamie MacDonald cross the finish
line. Several others came, and then Ian ran up the street waving at
Julie. Out of breath, his face red, he continued running as fast as
his legs would carry him. He came across the finish line and fell
into Julie’s arms.

When he recovered, he
said, “I didn’t do too badly, did I?”

“You did really well,
Ian. I’m very proud of you. You were not first, but you finished,
and that is what’s important. This was just your first try. There
is always next year,” Julie encouraged.

“I’ll win next year.
You’ll see. I am going to train all year. I like the games, don’t
you?”

“Yes, they are very
exciting. What would you like to do next?”

“Miss Hastings, let’s
go watch the caber toss. Ribble says I need to put on more weight
for that event, but he is going to start my training now,” Ian
gushed.

Turning around, Julie
and Ian glimpsed Matthew walking toward them. Ian pulled away from
Julie’s hand and started for his uncle.

“Uncle Matthew, Uncle
Matthew, did you see me race?”

“Yes, I did. I am
proud of you, lad. You did very well,” Matthew said. “Do you hear
the sound of a bagpipe? That must be Robbie Parsons warming up.
Come on, let’s go up to the inn,” Matthew said, including Julie in
his invitation.

Mrs. Parsons’ inn
lived up to a party atmosphere. The excellent food disappeared
quickly, the spirits flowed without complaint, and the room took on
a misty glow. The bagpipes could be heard for miles as familiar
melodies filled the little inn, and the rafters shook with laughter
and the combined commotion of country jigs and reels. Matthew
guided Ian out the back door to watch the tug-of-war. A rider
coming in fast stirred up the dust on the street. He dismounted and
made his way to where Matthew and Ian stood.

“I’ve news from the
true prince of Scotland and England,” he whispered, and then handed
Matthew a letter sealed with the crest of Prince Charles.

The missive requested
Matthew’s presence along with his countrymen on the nineteenth of
August at Glenfinnan. He stared at the words of his invitation. The
way it was worded, it could have been a request to a party instead
of a summons to war.

The time for
passiveness is at an end. I must act on what I believe or be
undone.

He thanked the
messenger and escorted him to the merriment and refreshments.
Without showing his inner turmoil, he collected Ian and made his
way down to the beach. Ever watchful, Ribble soon followed Matthew
and Ian.

“Ian, I think we had
better go back to the island. Something urgent has come up.”

“Who was that man? Is
anything wrong?” Ian asked anxiously.

“Ian, my lad, I’ll
have to leave soon. I hope it will not be for long,” Matthew
said.

A frown crossed Ian’s
face. Matthew wondered if Ian realized the full magnitude of what
was coming. He did not want the war to touch him or their island,
but he knew that was unrealistic. His association with the prince
could cause Ian to lose the land the MacDonalds had held for
generations. What would become of Ian, or Julie? His thoughts were
heavy with a sense of dark foreboding.

A while later, Matthew
looked up to see Julie walking toward them. He stepped out of the
boat and helped her to get seated in the skiff. She sat down,
clasped her hands together, and did not move. He studied her
profile. She could have been a statue. Even now it took all of his
strength not to reach out and touch her. He wanted to turn this
cold figurine into the flesh and blood woman she had been in his
arms, to feel her fire again. To taste her kiss, hear her heart
beat wildly, but most of all to feel her hot, cool touch. Just
being near her made his blood run hot. These feelings puzzled him.
He’d never felt so out of control. It confused him sometimes and
irritated him at other times, but most certainly thrilled him
always.

He knew he had no
right to ask her the questions he needed to hear the answers to,
but his desire for her destroyed his will. What could he tell her
about the war to come, of the uncertainties involving his life?

Would she refuse to
wait for him? Did she feel the same as he? Too many questions and
not enough answers.

He could not ask her
to throw her lot in with him and turn against her own people if her
sympathies lay with the Whigs. Wars were fought by professionals,
but the consequences were felt by amateurs and innocents, of which
she was one.

When they reached the
island, Julie stepped out of the skiff and walked toward the
castle. Her fellow passengers stood and watched her go.

“The lass seems
unhappy. Not like her to leave without saying anything. Wonder what
could be wrong?” Ribble said, scratching his head.

“I’m sure it’s
nothing. Come along, Ian,” Matthew replied.

* * *

Alone in her room,
Julie paced the floor. When she could stand the stuffiness of her
room no longer, she did what she always did to get rid of her
depression. She put on her riding habit and headed for the stables.
There were still several hours of daylight left. The groom quickly
saddled Crusader. When the groom gave her a boot up, she welcomed
the exhilaration she always felt in the saddle with the world
before her. She meant to ride to the furthermost end of the island
and be by herself to think.

“You don’t mind if I
ride along with you, do you, Miss Hastings?”

She did not want
Matthew’s intrusion, but she could not refuse. After all, he was
still her employer. It seemed the less she wanted to see him, the
more she felt she needed to be near him. Her head felt it would
burst with all these contradictions.

She tried to keep her
annoyance from showing in her answer. “No, of course not, your
lordship.”

They rode along in
silence for some time until Matthew spoke. “Missing your family,
Miss Hastings?”

Startled, Julie
replied, “Yes, I suppose I am. My cousin and I are more like
sisters than cousins. She’s my last living relative, you know. I
watched with envy as all the families danced and sang and were
having such a good time at the games. It would be nice to have
cousins, or brothers and sisters even. It brought home to me how
alone in the world I am. It’s sobering and a bit depressing. I
can’t seem to shake the feeling.”

“Surely you must have
more cousins or aunts and uncles. I must admit I have some I would
rather not own, but they’re there just the same.”

“I’m afraid it’s the
other way around with us. Our relatives would rather not own us. My
mother’s and father’s families were feuding over a piece of land.
Because of the feud, they had to elope. When the families found
out, both sides disowned them. Hannah’s mother—my mother’s
sister—sided with my mother, and she found herself disowned as
well. There is a large family somewhere with my parents’ names, but
they would never recognize us, so I guess you could say we
have…that is…I have no one. I remember an aunt on my father’s side
who sent us Christmas presents, but my father made us send them
back. After several years of returned presents, she quit sending
them.”

“You’ve never tried to
contact them, even after your parents died?”

“What would have been
the point? There were no sweeter or kinder people in the world than
my mother and father. If their families treated them so cruelly,
then I could certainly expect no better,” Julie said bitterly.

Matthew set about to
make himself agreeable and cheer her up. He kept up an easy banter,
his jokes so ridiculous she smiled. Soon laughter followed.

“Now that’s much
better. Beautiful women should never be blue-deviled. It’s against
the laws of nature,” he teased.

“I don’t feel so
beautiful today. I feel a hundred years somehow,” Julie said with a
wrinkle of her nose.

“Trust me, my dear,
you’re very beautiful today, as always. Maybe even more so, and
especially at this moment.”

Julie looked away.
Suddenly, she spurred her horse. “See if you can catch the wind,”
she called over her shoulder as she raced off toward the nearest
hill.

Matthew lightly kneed
his horse, and soon they were neck and neck. They raced at
breakneck speed, jumping over stumps, fallen logs, and dodging
low-hanging branches. Neither gave way but continued in a dead
heat. He glanced at Julie, and her eyes glowed with excitement. He
could still see the young girl in her face. When on guard, the
daredevil hid behind the sophisticated woman. A need to experience
life, taste what life had to offer, lay just beneath her
sophisticated veneer and could not be hidden.

The road lay up ahead,
and soon their race would end. Julie did not rein in her horse
until she hit the sandy beach. Both their mounts now waded in the
cool, salty ocean. Julie quickly guided her horse back on the shore
and started walking him to cool him down.

She looked over at
Matthew from under long black eyelashes and said with a gleam of
amusement in her eyes, “I won, you know. You reined in too
soon.”

“If I had not, you
would never have stopped. Did you think your horse could walk to
the mainland?” Matthew asked with just a touch of irritation in his
voice.

“I thought all you
nonpareil horsemen were good sports. Another myth shattered,” she
said saucily.

He could not help
smiling at the flush of victory on her face. Her green eyes
sparkled like the finest emeralds. She’d ridden hell bent for
leather, and that air of reckless abandon excited him. He wondered
if she put the same passion into other things she enjoyed—or might
enjoy. He turned away. He could not look at her and not take her in
his arms.

He was acting like a
silly schoolboy. Surely he was past all that.

Julie dismounted and
started walking up the beach. Matthew caught up with her. “Don’t
walk so fast. We’ll need to start back soon before it gets
dark.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s
such a beautiful day. I wish it wouldn’t end so soon. Strange, but
when I’m depressed, I have this need to go fast, to fly like a bird
on the wind. What a pity I don’t have wings on a day like
today.”

“If you had wings,
you’d probably not want to be earthbound, and like Icarus you might
fly too near the sun. If the way you ride is any indication,” he
quipped.

“You’re probably
right, but with the sun shining, the birds singing, and the wind in
my hair, it’s hard not to wish,” Julie replied, her tone seemingly
sad. She started to pick up her pace. “You’re right. We had better
start back.”

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