A Sinner at the Highland Court: A Marriage of Convenience Highlander Romance

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance; Historical Romance; Ancient World Romance; Medieval Romance; Scottish & Highlander

Synopsis

A disgraced former lady-in-waiting searching for redemption...

Lady Madeline MacLeod left Robert the Bruce's royal court five years ago because of her vanity and spitefulness. Prepared to take her final vows now, a royal summons to return to the Highland court leads Madeline to a marriage of convenience. Temptation in the form of a handsome Highlander makes Madeline question whether she'll return to the sinner she was. Will giving into her desires for her husband ruin Madeline's path to redemption?

 

A warrior in need of a wife to secure his inheritance...

Fingal Grant is the heir apparent to Clan Grant and in need of a wife. Not interested in a love match, Fingal searches for a woman who won't expect him to change his ways. The pious Madeline MacLeod is the perfect bride until Fingal realizes he doesn't want his wife to ignore him. Can Fingal convince Madeline that desire between a husband and wife isn't the carnal sin she fears?

 

A marriage of convenience that becomes most inconvenient...

Drawn to one another, Madeline and Fingal struggle to overcome their preconceived notions about marriage. Often insensitive and unobservant, Fingal realizes he has much to learn about being a husband. Clinging to the life she thought she would have, Madeline realizes she uses her faith as a shield. When a neighboring clan threatens the newlywedst, can Madeline and Fingal fight their way back to one another before the enemy separates them for good?

 

If you love scorching HOT Highlander romances with suspense, you'll love this tale of love and redemption in Celeste Barclay's newest installment to her Highland Ladies series. Pick up your copy today.

 

Welcome to Robert the Bruce's Highland Court, where the ladies-in-waiting are a mixture of fire and ice. The Highland Ladies, the STEAMY spinoff series from Celeste Barclay's The Clan Sinclair series, returns to the Medieval royal court for love and intrigue.

 

Release date: December 30, 2020

Publisher: Oliver Heber Books

Print pages: 424

Sample

Prologue

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. How can he do this to me? How could he pick her over me? That fat sow. Kieran will regret this till the day he dies. He and she both. This is her fault. All her fault. I hate her too.

Madeline MacLeod felt the four walls of her tiny convent cell closing in upon her. Her brother, Kieran, had dragged her from Robert the Bruce’s royal court at Stirling Castle and dumped her at Inchcailleoch Priory earlier that week. She refused to accept that any of her words or actions had caused her fall from grace. She’d only spoken the truth each time she told Maude Sutherland how unconventionally curvaceous she was. Why her brother wanted to marry a woman who looked more like a tavern wench than a lady was beyond Madeline.

He just wants a good rut. He’ll realize what a dreadful mistake he’s made when he takes her home to Stornoway. He will realize that tupping her won’t be worth the humiliation of having such a plain-faced, round as a barrel, heifer for a wife. He could have had Laurel Ross!

As Madeline listened to the bells toll for yet another Mass, she grimaced. All she seemed to do was pray these days, but God certainly wasn’t listening because she remained at the priory despite her fervent appeals. She kneeled among the other novices, postulants, and nuns eight times throughout the day and night as they followed the Liturgy of Hours. The bells in the background signaled Prime, so she knew it was still very early. She’d already attended Matins in the middle of the night and Lauds at sunrise.

Madeline glanced out the narrow window set high in the wall, thinking that the masons must have designed it so the women couldn’t escape. The sunlight, weak and dismal, matched Madeline’s mood. When she lived at court, six o’clock in the morning was an hour she’d never seen. Now that she lived at the convent, she’d already been awake for an hour and a half.

Madeline dragged herself from her cot and her introspection. She could feel her anger simmering below the surface, and if she wanted to avoid another outburst—which would result in two days of wearing a hair shirt for penance — she would do well to calm herself. She splashed freezing water from the washbasin onto her face. It was refreshing, but it only reminded her of the austerity she now faced daily. Already dressed in her postulant’s dark gray gown, she’d tucked her roughly shorn hair beneath her wimple, and a large wooden cross hung around her neck. The undyed wool of the dress made her skin itch, and it chafed the open cuts upon her back. But it was far better than the hair shirt they forced her to wear the third day she arrived. She’d lashed out at another postulant who bumped into her as they entered their pew. The postulant was formerly a lesser noble, and Madeline reminded her that she, Madeline, was the sister of a laird and a former lady-in-waiting to Queen Elizabeth de Burgh. Madeline’s voice carried, but the other woman was more discreet in her own set-down, as she pointed out that Madeline’s brother was the one to banish her from court.

When she spewed her spleen at her fellow postulant, Madeline earned herself an hour of self-flagellation in the misericord, the room where nuns were punished. This was followed by two days of wearing the penitent’s hair shirt. She’d been in agony for those two days, and was convinced she would surely die. It was a severe and successful lesson, and now she knew to keep her foul temper to herself. “Once bitten, twice shy” was now her mantra. She had no intention of ever earning such a punishment again. 

If I must bite my tongue all the way through, I won’t say a dicky-bird. None of these eejits are worth being flayed alive.

Madeline made her way into the chapel, but the Mother Abbess pulled her aside. The older nun’s expression was stern, but there was a kindness in her eyes that made Madeline narrow her own. She didn’t trust the woman. No one human had as much patience and forgiveness as the Abbess.

“Madeline,” Mother Abbess greeted her. Madeline fought to keep her expression neutral. While she was relieved that they didn’t call her “sister,” the stripping of her title as a lady chafed. She was in limbo, and the form of address only added to the hurt and anger. “How do you fare this morn?” the older woman asked.

The kindness and concern in the woman’s tone took Madeline aback. The Mother Abbess had expressed her disappointment when Madeline appeared before the prioress for her punishment. She hadn’t expected the nun to ask about her welfare.

“Madeline, you made your penance. The Lord has forgiven you.” Mother Abbess smiled softly. “While it may take Mary longer to forgive you, God already has. If your contrition was genuine, then your sin is like a grain of sand, and God’s grace is a wave. Once you’ve begged forgiveness, the wave washes it away. It no longer remains.”

Madeline sucked in her breath. She hadn’t once asked for forgiveness. She’d railed against the injustice as she silently fumed. She’d cursed those around her and blamed anyone in sight for her plight.

“Ah,” Mother Abbess filled the silence. “Perhaps your sin remains more like a pebble than the grain of sand. It is caught in your shoe and will pierce your sole until you remove it.” Madeline’s lips pursed at the woman’s play on words. She understood the wisdom in the nun’s metaphor, but she wasn’t ready to relinquish her bitterness. It was all she had, a lifeline to her past.

“Yes, Mother Abbess,” Madeline demurred.

“Madeline, you know you will live out your days within the walls of this priory. You have a choice; only you can make that choice. You can accept that this is your home and your future. Or you can continue to resent being here, everyone in your presence, and your brother and his future wife.”

It struck Madeline as odd that the woman’s voice could sound both benevolent and chastising at the same time. She had to admit that the nun spoke the truth. Madeline swept her gaze around the filling chapel. The nuns, novices, and postulants, along with several friars from the nearby monastery, had their heads bowed in prayer as they waited for the liturgy to begin. Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass window above the altar and shone upon the hanging crucifix. If she weren’t filled with such anger and resentment, she would have admitted that the light, with dust motes floating around the cross, was beautiful. It appeared to give the replica of Christ an aura. 

She’d never been devout in her beliefs, even after Queen Elizabeth forced all of her attendants into hours of prayer on bent knees. Arriving at court and learning that most didn’t attend Mass until Terce had been a relief. The nine o’clock service still felt terribly early, since most courtiers didn’t retire until the wee hours of the morning, but Terce was still better than the expectations at her family’s home on the Isle of Lewis. The MacLeods began their day with Prime, the Mass she now attended. Unlike at home or at court, Madeline now attended a church service nearly every three hours.

As the long years stretched out ahead of her, Madeline felt a different weight settle upon her shoulders. She stared once more at the crucifix as she considered her choices. She could spend the rest of her life railing against being a nun, or she could accept her fate. The weight of exhaustion replaced that of injustice. She’d barely eaten or slept since she arrived, her fury being the only sustenance she needed. But she didn’t want to live out her years being miserable.

Madeline turned back to the Mother Abbess, but the woman had walked away, taking her place near the altar. The priest spoke the opening collect, and Madeline hurried to take a place in the nearest pew. As she settled on her knees, the beam of sunlight shifted, now engulfing the crucifix in gold, orange, and red. It appeared to glow. Even though she was expected to have her eyes closed and head bowed, Madeline couldn’t look away. She blinked rapidly, but the figure continued to gleam.

Is that truly God’s light shining not upon, but from, Christ’s body? It can’t be. That’s ridiculous. The figure is naught but wood, and the light is from the sun. But God created the sun, the moon, and the earth. If He created the sun, then it must be His will where it shines. I know that crucifix hasn’t looked like that before, in all the days I’ve been here. God, are you telling me something? What am I supposed to hear?

Madeline closed her eyes, but kept her head raised. She swallowed and strained to hear anything but her own voice within her head.

God, I don’t hear You. But perhaps that isn’t how You speak to Your lambs. I’m not Abraham or Isaac, or Moses or Jonah. Mayhap I won’t hear Your voice. But my soul feels lighter than it has since I arrived at court. It feels clean. Are You the wave that Mother Abbess said to seek? Have You sent Your Holy Spirit to wash away my sins? I don’t ken the answer to that, but that’s how it feels. Mayhap Your presence is here in all things, just like the nuns say. My choice is to believe You reside here and that You have placed me on the path to being a bride of Christ.

For the first time in her life, Madeline lowered her head and listened to the service with an open heart and open mind. The sight of the crucifix had moved her in the most unexpected and inexplicable way. The prayer service passed more quickly than it ever had. Madeline was unprepared to file out of the chapel and walk to the refectory. She received the bowl of porridge with a slight smile and nod of thanks. The surrounding nuns stared at her in disbelief before they remembered themselves. Unlike her previous reactions, she bowed her head and clasped her hands in a prayer of thanksgiving for both the food and her new opportunity.

 

Chapter 1

Four Years Later

Madeline wiped the sweat from her brow as she prepared to tug at the tenacious weed once again. She was determined that the third time would yield success. Perspiration trickled between her shoulder blades beneath her undyed tunic and black scapular. The nuns wore the “yoke of Christ” as an apron when they worked. While it protected their tunics, it was also a reminder that the burden of toiling within the Lord’s house was much like the burden Christ carried for their redemption. While the garden was Madeline’s favorite place to work, she sweltered that day. Her wimple stuck to her forehead, and she could feel the fabric clinging to the back of her neck.

The weed came loose, and as it did, Madeline barely caught herself before tumbling backwards. She dumped the weed in her basket and brushed her hands together to knock the soil from them. She surveyed the rows of vegetables around her, pleased with what she’d accomplished that day. While she enjoyed working in the herb gardens, Madeline preferred to spend time in the vegetable patches. It filled her with a sense of worthiness and fulfillment to know that her toils helped nourish the women she lived, worked, and prayed beside.

As she stood to dispose of the weeds, Madeline caught sight of the Mother Abbess approaching. The years had been kind to the older woman; she looked no different than she had nearly five years ago when Madeline arrived. She still exuded the same kindness and patience, and Madeline had discovered soon after she accepted her life at the convent that the prioress had a dry sense of humor and a tendency to curse.

Madeline had stumbled upon the nun kneeling on the cobbled path within the cloister a month after she arrived. Mother Abbess had smiled ruefully and explained she’d been begging God’s forgiveness for the oath she’d sworn when she stubbed her toe. Madeline eventually stopped noticing when she would come across the prioress praying in the most unpredictable places.

“Sister Madeline,” Mother Abbess greeted as she approached. Madeline bowed her head and kissed the woman’s ring, after which the abbess tucked her hands into the opposite sleeves of her habit and continued speaking. “Please join me in my solar.”

Madeline had learned many lessons about herself during her postulancy and novitiate, among them that deference to the senior nun came more easily than it had to the queen. While Queen Elizabeth de Burgh’s regal status and power awed Madeline, she disliked the queen’s position and wealth. She’d mocked Queen Elizabeth’s piety, and balked at the hours the ladies-in-waiting were required to spend in prayer.

But Madeline was gentler and more accepting now, and she understood much of that came from the prioress’s tutelage. Mother Abbess was an amiable woman, and while she, too, wielded power, Madeline never resented it once she accepted her future. Learning that the prioress was a Highlander had helped. Mother Abbess’s dry humor resonated with Madeline, who’d grown up in the Hebrides. Their backgrounds made them more similar than they were to the Lowland nuns. Inchcailleoch Priory lay a day’s ride west from Stirling, but while many considered Stirling the bridge between the Highlands and Lowlands, the priory felt distinctly part of the Lowlands. 

As more and more of the habits she’d developed both at home and at court fell away, she realized that her mind and her body felt lighter. In the beginning, she thought often of her mother and younger sister Abigail. The three women used to run roughshod over first her father, then her brother. They demanded the best candles, the finest linens and fabrics, and the coin to do as they pleased. Her father indulged the trio so they would leave him alone. Once her older brother Kieran became laird, he was less apt to give in, but he did on occasion. And Madeline’s life at court had only exacerbated her vanity and selfishness. When she reflected upon all those years of narcissism—and even, in some cases, cruelty—her stomach soured, and her chest ached. 

In her relative isolation, Madeline had done as much as she could to make amends. At the start of the previous winter, Arabella Johnstone—now Arabella Sutherland—had turned up at the convent. Madeline knew that her fellow lady-in-waiting had barely recognized her appearance or her attitude. She’d aided Arabella in escaping the priory with Lachlan Sutherland, the man who was now her husband. Though pride was a sin, Madeline couldn’t help but be pleased with the woman she’d become. As her novitiate drew closer to its end, she looked forward to taking her final vows. The only two regrets she held were that she’d never apologized in person to Maude for all the cruel things she’d done and said to her sister-by-marriage. And she wished she’d had an opportunity to find love and build a family like Maude and Kieran had. Before arriving at Inchcailleoch, she’d always assumed she would marry and have children. She’d looked forward to having a little girl she could dress up with ribbons, or a son who would become a fine warrior worthy of her boasting. The lost opportunity still pained her.

After arriving at the prioress’ solar, both women genuflected to the crucifix hanging on the wall before kissing the feet of the Christ figure on the crucifix. Mother Abbess took her seat behind her desk while Madeline stood, avoiding the chair reserved for guests. Madeline waited expectantly as Mother Abbess passed an assessing gaze over Madeline.

“Sister, you have nearly completed your time as a novice. You’ve sworn your preliminary vows and become a valuable member of our community. You pray with fervor and you’re a hard worker.” Madeline wanted to shift her feet. Something about the unexpected compliments made her wary. “But I’m not convinced that God has called you to the offices of a nun.”

Mother Abbess held up a hand before Madeline could speak, staying any objection the novice might make. She offered a benevolent smile before glancing at the chair in the corner.

“Bring that chair over, my child. I believe we shall be here for a while. Sister, we both know why you came to the priory. You are a very different woman from the wrathful and shallow girl who arrived. I cannot say that I know what brought about your conversion so soon after you arrived, but it was impossible to ignore. Mayhap our merciful Lord spoke to you, but I do not believe your life was meant to be spent cloistered away from the world. You have a way with children that I couldn’t have anticipated. You’re patient and gentle with them when you go into the village to minister to their bodies and souls.”

Madeline’s tension eased with the prioress’s compliment, but she still wondered why she’d been summoned.

“Plainly put, I see the longing in your eyes, Madeline,” the prioress said with a wistful smile. “You wish your life would have taken you in a direction that led to a husband and children. Prayer and faith alone do not make a calling.”

Madeline sat in stunned silence. Everything the abbess said was true, but it was disconcerting to hear it from the head of the priory. Her wariness slid into fear as she waited to hear what the nun had to say next.

“Sister, let me share a story that only a handful of nuns here know. They are the ones still alive from when I arrived. I haven’t spoken of this in almost forty years. I was the youngest sister of the Gunn’s former laird. Thomas was not a kind man; rather, he was a vain and greedy one. He raided the Sinclairs and Mackays often, and he frequently made it look like other clans were to blame. He fueled animosity among the three clans, then sat back and watched what happened.”

Madeline tried to remember what she knew of the Highland clans, but she was most familiar with the politics across the Hebridean islands.

“My next older brother, James, was duplicitous and conniving. He had coveted Siùsan Mackenzie—now Siùsan Sinclair—since she was a young girl. My sister Elizabeth married Siùsan’s father within days of his first wife’s death. Siùsan was born moments before her mother passed, and Elizabeth had naught but scorn for her infant stepdaughter. While there was no issue of consanguinity, it felt unholy for James to desire his niece-by-marriage. Farlane was the last of my brothers, and he was no better than Thomas or James. He died during a fight a few years ago, when he and his son, Arlan, were challenged by the Gordon twins, who discovered Arlan had assaulted Cairstine Grant.”

Madeline gasped. She and Cairstine had been friends while they both served at court; they had bonded over their nastiness toward the other women. If Cairstine had been attacked before she become a lady-in-waiting, Madeline could understand why Cairstine was angry at the world and why she pushed people away. Madeline wondered which of the Gordon twins she married. She’d had no word from court since she arrived and only a handful of missives from Kieran, Abigail, and her mother. She’d received one missive from Maude not long after she married Kieran. Maude had offered her forgiveness and wished Madeline well. It was that missive that made Madeline sob for hours, for it was the first genuine contrition she’d ever felt. When Madeline realized that Mother Abbess was silent, she drew herself out of her thoughts and turned her attention back to the woman’s story.

“When I was six-and-ten, I often slipped away from Clyth to escape my brothers and sister. I wandered all over, usually without a guard. There was a loch close to our border with the Sinclairs, and I would ride out early in the morning and not return until just before the evening meal. I fished, swam, and just watched the waves lap against the shore. I enjoyed the solitude and peace. I would think aboot the wonders of God’s creation, of all things great and small. I marveled at the awe-inspiring world around me, and I was happy.”

The prioress paused as if to collect her thoughts. Madeline noticed the far-away gaze and the mistiness that gathered in the corners of her eyes. She wondered what brought such sadness to the woman who had just recalled her own happiness.

“It was during one of those trips to the loch that I stripped bare and went for a swim. I’d been going there for years and seen naught more than a deer or rabbit. As I was aboot to climb out of the water, I heard hooves galloping toward the loch, and I had few places to hide, with no time to dress. It terrified me that whoever approached would accost or kidnap me. The first mon through the trees was enormous. Ma brothers were tall and broad shouldered, but this mon was a veritable mountain galloping toward me. He had dark brown hair that wafted behind him in time with his horse’s gait, and even from a distance, I could see the cleft in his chin. He was the brawest mon I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

The corners around the nun’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. Madeline suspected the older woman hadn’t noticed a burr slipping into her speech. She and Madeline had used Gaelic when Arabella and her father arrived at the priory. Laird Johnstone intended to abandon Arabella there to keep her from marrying Lachlan, and Madeline and the abbess had used their mother tongue to discuss the laird’s plans, knowing that neither he nor Arabella could understand the language. It was but one moment in the years Madeline spent at the convent, but it was the closest she’d felt to anyone since she arrived.

“He ordered his men to remain in the trees,” the abbess continued. “He looked around, his hand already on the hilt of his sword as he dismounted. The loch was so close to the border that the Gunns and Sinclairs often argued over whose land it lay on. I can still remember the timber of his voice as he asked me who I was. With nay clothes on and nay arisaid with me because of the summer heat, there was naught nearby to distinguish me. But it was clear from his breacan feile that he was a Sinclair. I stuttered ma given name, Ceana.” She paused and shook her head. “I havenae said that in five-and-thirty years. Not since I took my final vows.”

Keh-na. Fair one. It suits her. Madeline didn’t hide her smile as the prioress continued.

“When he asked me what I was doing there, I could only blink. Then I blurted out, ‘I would think it’s a wee bit obvious what I am doing here. The better question, is what the bluidy hell are ye doing here?’” The Mother Abbess didn’t stifle her chuckle.

“I shall pray on that one later,” Mother Abbess winked, and Madeline choked on a giggle. “The mon reached into his saddlebag and drew out a spare plaid. When he shook it open, I was certain it was long enough to cover the table on Clyth’s dais. It was certainly longer than ma brothers’ plaids, and theirs were longer than average. He approached as I sank deeper into the water, so it hid everything up to ma mouth. He swung the plaid around his back and stretched out his arms before spinning on his heels. He held the plaid as a shield, so his men couldnae see me as I left the water and while I dressed. He didna make a peep.”

Madeline listened to the lilting brogue of the abbess, and she felt at home in a way she hadn’t since before she left for the royal court. She’d adopted a pretentious courtly accent within minutes of arriving at Stirling Castle. As she did so, she looked down her nose at Maude, whose burr sometimes slipped into her speech. Madeline had abandoned her own courtly accent the day she accepted her fate, and her islander’s brogue surprised many. But by using it she felt authentic for the first time in years. Now the sound was like a lullaby, familiar and comforting.

“Once I dressed, he turned around. But he kept his extra breacan feile stretched across his back, keeping me out of his men’s sight. He was aghast that I didna have at least one guard with me. Anger, fear, and something akin to sadness passed through his eyes. With a sigh, he declared me a Gunn and explained that while being a lass is why he wouldnae let his men see me in the skin, it was being a Gunn that kept him from allowing them to see me as we talked. My horse grazed nearby, and I could ride around the far side of the loch to return home. As I mounted, he asked if I would ever see him again. I answered only if he told me his name. Dugan Sinclair. He was the laird’s younger son. We both recognized one another’s position, and we both knew it was reckless to even consider seeing one another again. But we did. Often.”

A light pink blush entered the woman’s cheeks, but her fond memories further deepened the creases around her eyes, which crinkled as she smiled wistfully. Even so, her sigh was one of missed opportunity and regret.

“We met along the border whenever we could. He would stand on his side, and I would stand on mine. We’d keep several feet apart and talk. Neither of us dared cross onto the other’s land, but we enjoyed our conversations. We met at least once a sennight for three moons before I smuggled a blanket and picnic lunch with me. We estimated where the border was and spread the blanket over it. We sat on our own sides while we ate, then laid back and watched the clouds. We continued meeting like that for two more moons before Thomas called me before him. He railed against me for meeting with a—well, I canna go so far as to say what kind of Sinclair he said, but it wasna vera nice. He told me that his patrols often saw me, but when Dugan kissed me, they reported it to Thomas. From what I gathered, they hadnae shared how many moons I’d been meeting Dugan. I’d feared they would tell Thomas since I knew we had to have been seen, but when I wasna called before ma brother, I kept testing ma luck. I kenned from what Dugan told me that his father took a more sympathetic view, saying that I was a lass and didna deserve to be caught in the middle of clan fights.”

Madeline realized she was leaning forward in her seat as she listened to the tale with rapt attention. She never dreamed that the nun sitting before her could have been involved in an illicit affair. It was as though Madeline’s world had been turned upside down and inside out. She studied the woman more closely, taking in the impish twinkle that had entered her hazel eyes. She assumed the woman’s hair was gray or white beneath her wimple, but she wondered about its original color. For some reason, Madeline envisioned fiery red locks.

“Being threatened with imprisonment in ma chamber wasna enough to keep me from continuing to see Dugan. We’d fallen deeply in love, and neither of us regretted the passion we shared. Both Sinclair and Gunn territories reach the coast of the North Sea. Rather than meeting in a meadow near our border, we met on the beach. We assumed it was less likely that a Gunn patrol would spot me. I kenned the Sinclair patrols turned a blind eye to us since Laird Sinclair didna object. I willna say much beyond we anticipated the wedding we believed we would have.”

Mother Abbess’s cheeks turned from their previous pink to a deep red, but she maintained her eye contact with Madeline. “I was three moons along before I realized ma condition. It was ma sister Elizabeth who pointed it out. She announced it at the evening meal the day before she left to marry Laird Mackenzie. I feared Thomas would have an apoplexy. I have never seen a mon turn that shade of red. It almost looked blue. He had guards drag me to ma chambers, so I didna ken he led a raid that night on the Sinclairs.”

The tears tumbled from the nun’s eyes, and she did nothing to wipe them away. Madeline already knew how this story would end. She could imagine what happened next, and she suspected she knew why the Mother Abbess came to the priory. But she listened nonetheless.

“It was a sennight before Thomas let me leave ma chamber. He made me stand before the dais as the clan gathered at the tables behind me. I was unprepared when he threw something at me. Dugan’s brooch landed at ma feet.” The older woman paused as she pulled a drawer open. She retrieved an intricately carved brooch with a ruby gem in the center. She’d worn the stone smooth, and Madeline knew she must have passed her thumb over it countless times, just as she did now. It shocked Madeline that the abbess possessed such a fine, worldly good.

“I confess I hid it when I came here,” the prioress nearly whispered. “I ken it’s likely a sin that I still keep it, and I’ve prayed for forgiveness many a time. But I canna part with it. It’s all that I have in this world that keeps me connected to Dugan. When I picked it up from among the rushes, I kenned that moment that I would never see Dugan again. I couldnae even go to his burial. Even kenning ma condition, Thomas lashed me in the bailey the next day. He made certain the entire clan watched ma disgrace. But I felt nae a lick of remorse for ma choices. At the time, I had ma beloved’s bairn growing within me.”

Madeline didn’t dare ask what happened to the child, despite being eager to know. She glanced down and found her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white.

“The lashing wasna enough for Thomas because I wouldnae repent. He beat me until I feared I would lose the bairn. It was ma brother’s captain of the guard and the captain’s wife who smuggled me out of Clyth and took me to Dunbeath. I showed up on the Sinclairs’ doorstep, beaten and with child. They took me in without questions and allowed me to stay until I healed.”

The prioress paused, and Madeline could tell the older woman was envisioning these memories.

“Lady Kyla Sinclair had the gentlest touch I’ve even felt. The auld laird and lady were still alive, but it was Lady Sinclair who tended to me. She’d been a Sutherland, just as Maude was. In fact, she was their aunt. She’d survived her father’s abuse before marrying the current laird, Liam. I believe she saw herself in ma injuries.

“They offered to let me stay, to become part of their clan, but I couldnae. Everywhere I looked, something reminded me that I was in Dugan’s home. I even slept in the bed that I thought I would one day share with him. I begged to retire to a convent where I could have the bairn and live as a secular member of the community. Inchcailleoch was the furthest convent that I could think of; I thought Thomas would never suspect I was here. The current Laird Sinclair and Lady Sinclair escorted me here. While she had an angel’s touch, she had the devil’s stubbornness.” 

Mother Abbess grinned and shook her head. She watched Madeline as the younger woman absorbed the story. The tale enthralled Madeline, but she couldn’t figure out why the prioress shared such a deeply personal story with her. “I had always been strong in ma faith, and joining our community here was easy. I imagined that I would live here with ma child and work alongside the sisters. Or mayhap, I would find a cottage in the village but continue to serve the nuns. But those grand plans changed when ma bairn was stillborn. He was the perfect image of Dugan. I was certain ma grief would kill me. But once I could move past ma tears and anger, I realized the Lord brought me here for a reason

“Nay one suggested a convent, so nay one ever suggested I come here,” the abbess smiled as her story came to an end. “When I was six-and-ten, I assumed ma life would lead me to be a wife and mother one day. But as I told ye in the beginning, before I met Dugan, I spent hours in meditation aboot God’s wonders. When ma babe didna survive, I realized I was already where I belonged. God had called me here. Madeline, ye and I both arrived in disgrace. But I was meant to serve the Lord nae a laird. Ye are meant to be a mother and a wife one day.”

“What?” Madeline jerked out of her seat. “Nay, Mother Abbess. I’m to take ma final vows in a fortnight. I canna be a wife and mother if I’m a bride of Christ.”

“Ma child, the agreement with yer brother was that ye would remain here indefinitely. But there was always the chance that after yer novitiate, ye might be allowed to return to Lewis. Respectful behavior might have released ye early, but ye seemed to have a calling to the sisterhood. But as the time for yer terminal vows approaches, I canna ignore the restlessness I see in yer spirit. Ye have accepted our way of life here, but I see ye looking toward the village. I see the eagerness to leave the cloister and visit the secular world. I’ve watched ye with the weans and bairns. Madeline, ye were meant to have a family of yer own. It isnae a sin to nae belong here as a nun. But it would be a sin to ignore His will. Ye arenae called to be a nun, ma child.”

“That’s it?” Madeline choked. “Five years, and ye’re forcing me out?”

“Ye ken I would never do that. But ye canna remain a novice forever.” The prioress walked around her desk and wrapped her arms around Madeline. The younger woman remained rigid for a moment before giving in to her tears.

“But where will I go? I dinna ken if Kieran would allow me to return.” Madeline’s body shook with the force of her tears, but the abbess kept her in the warm cocoon of her embrace until Madeline could control her breathing. “Mother Abbess, I’m scared.”

“I ken, lass,” the nun murmured as she straightened Madeline’s wimple. “It’s frightening to suddenly leave what ye’ve kenned for years. Ye’ve done it twice before, when ye left yer clan and when ye left court. But ye arenae the same person as ye were back then. Ye have more fortitude than ye give yerself credit for.”

“But where will ye send me?” Madeline whispered. “Can I go home?”

“Aye, Madeline. Laird MacLeod offered to escort ye back to Stornoway when I wrote to him of ma concerns.”

“Ye already wrote to him? Ye didna tell me that ye believed I dinna belong here, but ye told Kieran?” Madeline asked.

“I did. I wanted to explain to him ma observations aboot ye over the years and how ye would be a valuable member to yer clan, to any clan really. He and I have been in touch throughout the years, and he kens how different ye are from when ye arrived. He’s the one who suggested ye return to Stornoway.”

“He wants me to come home?” Madeline’s emotions threatened to consume her. 

“He and Lady MacLeod both do,” Mother Abbess reassured. “But Madeline, yer presence has been requested at court first.”

Madeline had noticed that the abbess had stopped calling her sister, and now she was stunned to find that she expected her to return to the same court where she’d humiliated and disgraced herself and her clan.

“I—I canna. I have naught appropriate to wear if I’m nae a nun. Why would anyone want me there?” Madeline wondered aloud.

“I canna say, ma child. But once I kenned Laird MacLeod wanted ye to come home, I had to inform the queen. She, too, has taken an interest in yer progress over the years.”

“The queen kens aboot me here?” Madeline was surprised. “I mean, I ken she’s aware I wound up here. But I mean, she kens what I’m like here?”

“Aye. I dinna ken that she wishes to reinstate ye, but she has ordered ye to appear.”

Ordered. That was more accurate than requested. From a member of the royal family, a request was as good as a summons at knifepoint.

“When do I leave?” Madeline asked.

“The start of next sennight,” Mother Abbess answered. There was nothing for Madeline to do but nod. The women prayed together before the prioress offered Madeline a blessing, and the former novice slipped from the solar.

 

Chapter 2

Madeline swallowed her trepidation as she dismounted from her horse in Stirling Castle’s bailey. She glanced at her brother’s men, who had appeared at the priory to escort her to the royal court. Since she entered the priory, she hadn’t been further than the village across the narrow span of Loch Lomond that separated the isle on which the priory sat from the village of Bealach Mo-Cha, or Balmaha. Madeline had found it difficult to leave what many called the “island of auld women.”

Many had come out of their cottages in Balmaha to wave goodbye, but Madeline forced herself not to look back once they were on the road to Stirling. She felt strangely foreign in a world she’d once inhabited. The bailey was bustling with people and animals, and the fetid air made her choke. Noise reverberated from the walls of the outbuildings. She wondered how she’d ever belonged in such a place. She recalled how eager she’d been when she first arrived in Stirling as a lady-in-waiting-to-be. Unlike before, she dreaded stepping foot within the keep. She wanted nothing more than to mount her horse again and ride north, putting half of Scotland between her and the courtiers who awaited her inside.

“Lady Madeline?” One of her guards cleared his throat. She’d only been away from the priory for a day, so being addressed by her title felt odd and uncomfortable. It reminded her of who she had once been. She tried not to flinch each time the men addressed her as “Lady Madeline.”

“Aye.” She nodded and inhaled deeply. She couldn’t avoid the inevitable by lingering in the bailey. She took her first step, and it was as though she went back in time. But this time she came as a spectator rather than a participant. She watched as people rushed to the Great Hall, where Madeline knew the men and women would enjoy a lavish evening meal before spending the rest of the night twirling to music. She wanted to seek a chamber and hide. She forced her hands at her side when she wanted to self-consciously run them over her hair. Her shoulder-length ebony tresses would stand out compared to the intricate coiffures of the matrons and the waist-length locks most of the ladies-in-waiting adorned with ribbons.

Madeline took the steps that led to a side door of the castle, glad she already knew her way around the keep. But she wouldn’t be able to remain invisible for long. She would have to make her presence known to the mistress of the bedchamber, or she would have nowhere to sleep that night. She prayed she could wait until the following morning before appearing before the queen. Even though she no longer wore a wimple, she still wore the gray tunic from the abbey. They had given her gown to Kieran before he left the priory, so she had no formal attire, even if it would have been five years outdated. She had a spare tunic, and she was desperate to get clean and don the fresh gown before being seen in her wrinkled and dusty one.

Madeline tiptoed along the passageways as she made her way toward where she suspected the mistress of the bedchamber would be given the hour. The woman oversaw all things to do with the ladies-in-waiting. Madeline’s mind compared the courtier and Mother Abbess. The two women were nothing alike, but both were in charge of the women who served beneath them. Madeline rounded the corner and stumbled to a stop. Laurel Ross stood before her, blinking rapidly as Madeline’s mouth hung open, and her eyes widened.

“Madeline?” Laurel whispered.

“Aye,” Madeline answered in an equally soft tone.

“What are you doing here?” Laurel asked as she peered around Madeline, only to find they were alone in the passageway. Madeline considered her answer, but there was little reason to be evasive. Why she was there was still unknown, so there was nothing to hide. In fact, it surprised her to find Laurel still at court. She assumed she would have married and left years before. She wondered if there was anyone else she knew among the ladies.

“I am on my way home to Stornoway, but I was summoned here first,” Madeline explained.

“Home? Summoned?” Laurel once again glanced over Madeline’s shoulder. “Come with me. We need to get you out of sight before the others come to dress for the evening meal.”

“Nay. I need to find the mistress and be assigned a chamber,” Madeline argued.

“Madeline, I don’t have a roommate at the moment. You can spend at least tonight in my chamber. After all, you know what the others will be like. Is this how you want to make your first appearance?”

Madeline’s spine straightened and her chin rose, a posture she hadn’t held since her first week at Inchcailleoch. It was that of a laird’s sister and a queen’s lady-in-waiting. “I have naught to be ashamed of when it comes to my appearance. I am a servant of the Lord.”

“Aye, and you will be a servant to the queen, most likely. You may not mind your appearance, but would you like to be on the receiving end of what you used to dole out to Maude? Because you’ve been replaced, and your successor is a bitch.” Laurel grabbed Madeline’s wrist and dragged her down the passageway. Madeline had no chance to argue, and Laurel’s words stunned her. While she knew Mother Abbess swore to herself, she had heard no one use anything close to profanity in five years. They entered Laurel’s chamber, and Madeline paused just inside the doorway. Little had changed in the chamber since she left. Laurel shut the door behind her and turned to the young woman brushing out a velvet gown.

“Ina, fetch the tub and hot water. Sharp’s the word, quick’s the action,” Laurel commanded but added a softer “please” at the end. Laurel strode across her room and opened her wardrobe. She rifled through her gowns before settling on a dove-gray kirtle. It was nearly the same color as Madeline’s tunic, but it was made of velvet and satin. Laurel marched toward Madeline and held the kirtle beneath Madeline’s chin. “This shall work. You’re thinner than you were, but we used to be the same size. My maid can launder your tunic.”

Madeline stood dazed as she listened to Laurel speak. It surprised her that Laurel didn’t threaten to burn the tunic, and her expression must have reflected her thoughts. Laurel offered what had once been an uncharacteristically warm smile. Her hand patted Madeline’s upper arm before she laid the dress aside.

“I ken I’m rushing you, but we were once friends. For better or for worse, we were allies against the rest of the world. I can tell you’re different. Everything aboot you. Not just your appearance, but your demeanor and the way you carry yourself. There’s a calm and grace I haven’t seen before. I don’t doubt your mind is as keen as it ever was, but the ladies will devour you alive if they see you dress this plainly. If you’ve changed as much as I suspect, then you don’t deserve that kind of welcome.”

Before Madeline could respond, a rap at the door signaled the servants with the tub and bathwater. Neither Madeline nor Laurel spoke while the servants prepared the bath. While she’d developed a greater sense of modesty while at the convent, she’d lost all modesty about her body before other women. She’d been sick more than once, and in her third winter at the priory she had developed such a high fever that she required ice baths in the infirmary. After that, she no longer cared whether any of the women saw her undressed, as plenty had during her illness.

Madeline couldn’t get past how much Laurel had changed, as well. While Madeline had a mean streak that instigated more than one occasion of bullying, Laurel was known to have a viperous tongue. During her novitiate, Madeline had thought about her friendship with Laurel many times. She’d forced Laurel to befriend her, manipulating her and threatening to destroy both the young woman’s reputation and that of her family and clan. She’d often suspected that Laurel hadn’t been a shrew before arriving at court, but her association with Madeline had driven her to cruelty. This made Madeline question why Laurel was being so accommodating.

“I ken you’re wondering why I’m being nice to you. I mean, after everything that happened,” Laurel smiled dubiously. “Much has happened in the time you’ve been away. Not only have Elizabeth Fraser and Maude married, but so have Cairren Kennedy, Allyson Elliot, Cairstine Grant, Blair Sutherland, and Arabella Johnstone.”

“There’s no one left but you,” Madeline murmured.

“Aye. I am the last of the auld guard.” Madeline didn’t miss the sadness in Laurel’s tone and her eyes. She regretted pointing out that Laurel was still unmarried. Laurel’s Highland roots slipped out momentarily when she smiled and said, “Dinna fash.”

Madeline grinned. “I’ve already slipped back into my courtly accent, and I didn’t realize it. But it sounds good to hear a Highlander after all these years.”

“Slipped back into? Did you not keep speaking like these bluidy Lowlanders we’re around all day and night?”

“Nay,” Madeline shook her head before pulling her tunic over her head and peeling down her stockings. “I quit sounding like them and went back to how I spoke most of my life. The Mother Abbess was a Highlander herself many moons ago, but besides her, there were no other women from up north or the islands.”

“I fear that it’s become too much a part of me after all these years, even if I cannot stand the sound of Scots. I’d prefer Gaelic any day of the sennight and twice on feast days.” Laurel and Madeline chuckled, and by silent agreement, they lapsed into Gaelic as Madeline stepped into the tub. Laurel’s Highland accent and Madeline’s Hebridean one sounded richer to Madeline’s ear than what she would hear at court, or even what she heard at the priory.

“Laurel, why are ye doing this? Helping me. I was wretched to ye. I deserve yer loathing, nae yer generosity.”

“Because we both erred for many years, but we’ve both changed,” Laurel responded. “I admit that yer departure made it easier for me, but it was Cairren’s ordeal that really changed me.” When Madeline raised an eyebrow in invitation, Laurel continued. “Ye ken she was ma roommate. The king and her father betrothed her to Padraig Munro.”

“Munro? Wasna he the mon yer sister Myrna planned to wed?”

“Aye. I kenned before she left that the Munros wouldnae welcome her. I kenned Myrna would make her life miserable. And I kenned that Padraig would give in to ma sister at every turn. The best I could do was warn Cairren of what awaited her. But it was so much worse than I could have ever imagined. They ostracized Cairren for her dark olive skin and for being a quarter Saracen. Padraig lusted for her, but he was convinced he still loved Myrna. So he and Cairren were both enemies and lovers

“Long story short, Myrna wasna what anyone believed. At least anyone but me. I’ve kenned all her secrets for years. I kenned she was the reason ma parents sent me here. She’s now married to an auld mon who belches and passes gas from sun-up to sundown, but is as randy as an auld goat. Cairren and Padraig fell in love, and now they have a family of their own. But that changed me. Ma heart broke for Cairren before she left, and it shattered all over again when she returned to court for a brief time before she finally found happiness.”

“Blessed Lord,” Madeline made the sign of the cross. “How long ago was that?”

“Nae vera long after Maude and yer brother married. They have been to court a few times over the years, and Maude is nae longer the wallflower she once was. I even think yer brother is a wee less protective each time they come.”

“He had every right to want to shield Maude from ma hatefulness and the seeds I sowed here. Ma mother and sister werenae any better than me when she first arrived at Stornoway. But they have reconciled since then.” Madeline lathered soap onto a piece of linen and began scrubbing. “Tell me of Cairstine and Allyson. I heard that Cairstine married one of the Gordons.”

“They both did. Or rather Allyson married Ewan, and Cairstine married Eoin.” Laurel grinned. The Gordon brothers had been known for their devilish good looks and charm. Women fell under their spell with little more than a glance. No one could have predicted how deeply in love they would fall with their wives, or how devoted they would be to their marriages. “Allyson ran away.”

“Pardon?” Madeline froze.

“Aye. She’d had some run-in with the twins when she and Cairren were on their way to the queen’s solar. Later that day, she discovered she was to marry the roguish Ewan. She bolted. She rode out to Culcreuch first, hoping to seek shelter with Elizabeth and Edward. But Edward couldnae go against his adopted brother, especially when the mon is the king. Allyson fled from there and traveled all the way to the border. She wound up kidnapped and taken to Chillingham.” At Madeline’s confused expression, Laurel explained. “It’s a castle of horrors. King Edward’s favorite torturer once lived there. Longshanks had given the mon free rein to terrorize the Scots just across the border. Allyson would have likely died had Ewan and Eoin nae rescued her. I dinna ken all that happened while they were away from court, but they came back married and vera clearly in love.”

“And Cairstine? I thought she didna want to marry. I thought that was part of her nastiness,” Madeline mused.

“It was. She didna want to marry, but her father began forcing her hand. She thought to become a nun. When that didna work out, she begged Eoin to pretend to be her betrothed long enough for her younger sister to marry the mon she loved. Eoin originally refused, but there was already a bond between them. I dinna ken the whole of that story either. But Cairstine was being pushed toward marrying her cousin a few times removed. She didna want Fingal. From what she said, he isnae a bad mon, and they were vera close; she simply didna want to marry him. But I suppose one thing led to another, and Eoin became a reformed rake. So Allyson and Cairstine now live at Huntly Castle with their husbands and children.”

“Oh, ma!” Madeline tried to digest all that she’d been told. She slipped beneath the water, enjoying the first bath she’d had in nearly five years. She knew she was dawdling, but the steaming water felt magnificent after so many years of just a basin and unscented soap. She knew the evening meal would start soon, if it hadn’t already, but she longed to remain in what felt like sinful decadence. “What aboot Blair and Arabella?”

“Blair ran into a childhood friend here. Laird Hardwin Cameron came to court to pay his clan’s taxes, but there was some sort of problem. He became laird when six people ahead of him died. Can ye believe that? He was untrained for the position, since he was the second son and nephew to the last laird. He’d fostered with the Sutherlands, but they never trained him to be laird. Nay one ever expected it. That’s how Blair and Laird Cameron kenned each other; they practically grew up together. I dinna ken if it was love at first—or would that be second—sight. It didna take long to see Blair and Laird Cameron were besotted with one another. She arrived at Tor Castle to find members of the clan plotting against Laird Cameron, and an attack from the Mackintoshes soon followed. The Sutherlands and their army, and yer brother along with Maude, their weans, and his army showed up just as the Cameron and Blair foiled the attack. Something aboot a hidden tunnel and burying men alive.”

“That doesnae surprise me. Maude, Blair, and Lachlan are exceptionally close. If something happened to Blair, I doubt Kieran could have kept Maude at home. For all ma taunts, I always kenned Maude had a backbone of steel. I think that’s why I wanted to see if I could make it bend.” Madeline lathered soap into her short hair, then waited for Laurel to pour the bucket of fresh water over her head. She had no excuse to remain in the bath, so she hurried to towel herself dry as Laurel recounted Arabella’s tale.

“Did ye ever suspect that Arabella and Lachlan carried a flame for one another?” Laurel asked. Madeline shook her head before pulling a comb from the small sack that held only the comb, her spare tunic, and a withered shard of soap. “Aye, well, they didna do aught because they feared what would happen to Arabella’s friendships with Maude and Blair. Once they married and left, there seemed like little standing in their way. But Lachlan waited too long. Laird Johnstone was ready to sign a betrothal between Arabella and Laird Gunn.”

“Laird Gunn?” Madeline’s mind jumped to the story the Mother Abbess had told her only a week earlier. She wondered if the man was as horrible as the other men in his family.

“Aye. From what I ken through ma own family, the Gunns are naught but a nuisance to the Sutherlands, Sinclairs, and Mackays. The last laird’s son, Arlan, was the one who attacked Cairstine all those years ago. He and his father Farlane ended up fighting Ewan and Eoin. They both died, so the lairdship passed to Beathan. From what I hear, he was a better laird to his clan, but just as bad to women as his brother.”

“Was?”

“Och, aye. I suppose he’s the previous laird now. He stole Arabella away from Lachlan. Twice, from the rumors I heard.”

“Arabella came to the priory. She ran away with Lachlan,” Madeline whispered.

“She did?” Laurel mused. “Aye. Her father brought her there after forcing her away from here. I just didna hear what happened afterwards.”

“Did he covet her for her beauty or for her dowry?” Madeline wondered, but Laurel only shrugged.

“There was a battle that involved the Mackays, the Sinclairs, and the Sutherlands. But it was Arabella who killed the mon. Do ye ken why she left court?” Laurel’s unexpected question startled Madeline. She could only shake her head. “I heard she was into the drink. She was hiding whisky in her chamber and having a nip or six every day. But the story is that Lachlan helped her past whatever plagued her enough to drink, and they married and live at Dunrobin.”

“That is quite a lot to take in all at once.” Madeline turned her back to allow Laurel to pull the kirtle’s laces snug. She hovered her hands over the fine material, remembering the gowns she’d once worn. It felt odd, almost uncomfortable, after so many years of the simple wool garments. She was no longer used to the confining feel or the weight of courtly attire.

“There’s naught to do aboot yer hair, but ye can use ma combs or ribbons. Mayhap that’ll help.” Laurel pointed to the table where her oils and hair accoutrements sat. Madeline struggled with her self-consciousness about her uncommonly short hair, but she glanced in the looking glass. She knew her hair curled after she washed it, but she’d never seen it before. In fact, it was the first time in almost five years that she had seen her own reflection.

She stepped toward the table and leaned forward. She brushed her fingertips over her cheeks and nose before feathering them over her hair. She recognized the woman she’d once been, but there was something she couldn’t pinpoint that was different, and it wasn’t her hair. “Ye’re less pinched,” Laurel offered.

“Pinched?” Madeline straightened and looked back at Laurel.

“Aye. Ye—well, I suppose we both—used to look like we’d eaten year-auld pickled herring. Our faces looked pinched,” Laurel explained. Madeline mulled over her former friend’s words. She wasn’t certain if she and Laurel were friends once more, and if they were, what would become of the relationship, but she appreciated the woman’s generosity.

“I suppose I dinna feel so pinched anymore. I confess, I’m nervous to be here, but ma life has been calm since I left,” Madeline admitted.

“Then why have ye returned?” Laurel prodded gently.

“Ma time at Inchcailleoch is through. The Mother Abbess recognized that while I came to appreciate ma life at the priory, entering the sisterhood isnae ma calling. They released me on good behavior,” Madeline smiled ruefully. “Kieran and Maude wish for me to return home, and that’s where I thought I would go. But Mother Abbess informed me that the king and queen summoned me here. I dinna ken aught more than that.”

Laurel glanced warily at Madeline as she held the chamber door open. They both surmised that Madeline was likely to discover an arranged marriage was in the works. However, Madeline refused to worry about that until she knew what was happening. Until then, she focused all her attention on surviving her first evening meal at court.