His Highland Pledge

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

Synopsis

Old enough to love, too young to wed...

Sixteen year old Magnus Sinclair did not realize when he stumbled upon thirteen year old Deirdre Fraser he was meeting his soulmate.  Three years of meeting at Highland Gatherings and Royal Hunts, along with countless letters, build an unbreakable love between Magnus and Deirdre, and they secretly pledge themselves in a handfast.  When Deirdre's parents discover their daughter's actions, she is whisked away to become a lady in waiting to the queen as her parents' status grows within the royal court.

A boy grown into a man determined to never surrender his love again...

Seven years of separation have not lessened Magnus's love but have made him taste the bitterness of rejection.  Sent to court as the Clan Sinclair's representative, the last person Magnus thought to find is Deirdre Fraser, and the last thing he thought to learn is she will soon be betrothed--to a man other than him.

A girl grown into a woman willing to disobey to regain her lost love...

Deirdre has served the royal court ever since her parents pulled her from Magnus's arms.  She has been a dutiful daughter and dutiful companion to the queen, but she never let go of her love for Magnus or her hopes that they would be reunited.  Stunned to find Mangus walking past her, Deirdre's heart calls to him despite her parents' political ambitions.

Caught between expectations and desire, Magnus and Deirdre must work together to find a way to finally build their life together.  

Can they prove to everyone that they still belong together, that theirs was not a childhood infatuation but a love for the ages?  Or will they have to defy those who attempt to control them, so they may fulfill His Highland Pledge?

Meet the members of Clan Sinclair in this fourth installment of the five-book Highland romance series.  The Clan Sinclair features Mairghread and her four brothers, Callum, Alexander, Tavish, and Magnus. Each member of the Scottish clan faces challenges as they meet their fated match, but all of the Sinclairs find their HEA.  Each novel in the series is a standalone, but they are best read together.

Release date: December 11, 2020

Publisher: Oliver Heber Books

Print pages: 254

Sample

Chapter One

 

Magnus Sinclair detested being at the royal court. There was nothing redeemable in his eyes, and his face ensured everyone knew the Highland giant was not there to exchange pleasantries. Standing at six and a half feet tall, he towered over almost every man in the king’s household and all the men who sought the monarch’s attention. Only a few visiting Highlanders mirrored him in height and physique. As though sticking out like a sore thumb from his height and his insistence upon wearing his plaid was not enough, he felt naked without his claymore. Locked away in his chamber, his two-handed broadsword was as much a part of him as either hand. For the safety of the king and his family, they allowed no one to wear or carry a sword into the main gathering hall. Magnus’s sword forged to accommodate his size, and even though custom designed, the enormous sword looked like little more than a young lad’s wooden practice sword when Magnus held it. Needless to say, it was not a welcome sight strapped to his back. When he arrived the day before, he resigned himself to just carrying his dirks, of which he had at least eight on various parts of his body.

Arriving early the previous morning, Magnus spent all of the day and much of the evening in a passageway, standing, awaiting an audience with the king. This day came and went, just as the previous one had, with no indicator of when the king would meet with him. This only aggravated Magnus more as a representative from the Sinclair clan summoned rather than volunteered to attend court.

The royal court’s opulence was lost on Magnus as he saw no need for the ornate decorations, the expensive fabric, the great expenditures on excessive food, or the waste on such things as hundreds of candles. He understood the king’s significant birthright and could rationalize the necessity for the king to maintain an aura of wealth, but the material items held no importance to him. He was much more concerned with whether the king would continue to be a fair and judicious leader.

Magnus craned his neck to look over the crowd and catch sight of the king and queen entering the massive gathering hall from the far side. Resolved not to be ignored any longer, Magnus weaved his way through the crowd. He knew this was not the time for a private audience, but he determined to make his presence known to the king. As his father’s, Laird Liam Sinclair, representative, he was in the wretched smelling, overcrowded, viper’s nest to settle the ongoing dispute between the Sinclairs and the Gunns complicated by a potential feud with the Kerrs and de Soules. He was not there to make the pretty and hobnob with the grasping aristocrats with whom he was peers. His impatience to return to his home in the Highlands overlooking the North Sea rolled off him like the waves that crashed along the rocks he could see from his chamber in Castle Dunbeath.

Could nae ma bluidy brothers manage to marry without killing anyone? First, it was Callum killing Laird Gunn’s brother for kidnapping and molesting Siùsan, which I didna blame him for since I was ready to run him through too. Then it was Alexander’s hiding Brighde away that brought not only the Gunns but the Kerrs and de Soules along for the fun too. I dinna blame him for that either, as I was the one who laid waste to the Gunn maself. But now the Gunn laird is dead and buried alongside the Kerr laird and Randolph de Soules. It wouldnae surprise me if the grass died over their rotting souls. And I’m stuck here making nice with these Lowland fops and trying to appease a king who’s worried he looks incapable of controlling the Highlands. The sooner he, and everyone else who isnae a Highlander, realizes we canna be controlled nor manipulated, the better off Scotland would be.

Magnus forced his scowl to relax into the most neutral face he could muster. He only looked to be grimacing now instead of ready to take someone’s head off. He did not have to worry about the crowds of people who thronged about as they parted for him like he was Moses brought back from the dead. Magnus attempted to move about without bumping into people, but there were far too many bodies for even such a large room. He neared the dais when he heard a sound that froze him in his tracks and thrust him back in time seven years.

He would recognize that peal of laughter anywhere. It was a sound that was so etched into his every nerve and fiber he could never forget it. He could feel his pulse speed up, his brow broke out in dots of perspiration, and his hands felt clammy. The hammering of his heart in his ears almost drowned out the offending sound but not quite. Slowly, he turned to face the table where the owner of the throaty laugh sat. He knew exactly who would be seated there but seeing Deirdre Fraser for the first time in seven years felt like a poleax just swung into his gut. His visceral reaction to seeing the lady for the first time in so many years made him feel so physically ill he wanted to run and hide for the first time since he was a wean. He forced himself to take several deep and calming breaths as he managed to put one foot in front of the other and continue his path to the dais. Accustomed to the whispers that followed him about everywhere he went, Magnus paid little attention to them now, especially those coming from women. Coupled with his impressive height, his dark chestnut hair gleamed with threads of gold in the light from the hundreds of candles in the chandeliers, and women frequently complimented his dark chocolate eyes that had an amber starburst around the pupils. His arms were as wide around as a blacksmith’s and his legs were as sturdy as two oak tree trunks. His chest and shoulders were so broad he had to turn sideways to make his way through doors in this castle. That was yet another thing he missed about home; in the Highlands, they made doors for men, not boys, to pass through. Women began chasing Magnus when he was barely over four and ten. He began paying them attention when he was five and ten, and by seven and ten, he was ready to swear them all off. All but one, Deirdre Fraser. He moved past court ladies who tried to gain his attention. He never had an interest in their provocative stares and glancing touches, and he was in even less of a mood to tolerate them.

Deirdre Fraser forced herself to laugh at another incomprehensible joke her cousin Elizabeth yet again mistold. She stopped listening quite some time ago but at least knew when she had to give an expected response. Her mind was drifting off to Alpin, her newest eyasses. The young falcon was only a few weeks old and had a deformed claw that worried her. She was mulling over how she might make her escape to check on him when Mary Kerr elbowed her in the ribs.

“Look at that heathen! Why he’s gigantic and hardly clothed. I do not understand why those Highlanders believe walking around in a blanket is an appropriate means of attire for His Grace’s court. That man is larger than any other I have ever seen, and I am sure I see knives on him. Zounds! Are we safe? What if he turns beserker and attacks the king or worse tries to steal us, ladies, away?”

Deirdre forced herself to bite her tongue. She and her family had lived at court long enough that most of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting forgot that she, too, was a Highlander. Her brogue had softened over the past half a score of years to a light burr, but in her heart, she was still a Highlander and would not change that for all the gowns and courtly graces foisted upon her.

Elizabeth leaned around her to see for herself what had caused Mary to become so agitated. She gasped and turned to Deirdre, but before she could whisper a warning to her cousin, Mary was speaking again.

“I believe he’s one of those barbarian Sinclairs. Did you hear what they did to my father? I cannot believe he has the audacity to show his face in here. He should be chained up and dropped into the oubliette.”

Deirdre froze.

Ever so slowly, she turned on the bench where she sat and scanned the crowd. It took only the length of a breath to find Magnus Sinclair. He was walking parallel to her table with his head held high and his eyes focused forwards, and as he came even with her, his eyes could not help but shift and lock onto hers. Only a heartbeat later he refocused on making his way to the king, and Deirdre was attempting to maneuver herself out of her seat without tripping over all of her skirts.

What in the name of St. Columbo’s bones is he doing here? And why the devil canna I get over this bench without putting ma slipper through ma hem? Dammit! I need out now and not fall on ma bluidy face in the process. I canna stay here.

Deirdre righted her kirtle and step back from the table.

“Dee, where are you going,” Elizabeth hissed.

“Ye ken I canna stay here. I canna breathe,” Deirdre whispered back.

“Lady Deirdre, what did you say? Why in heavens do you suddenly sound like some peasant? You sound like one of those people,” and she gestured toward Magnus.

“I beg your pardon, Lady Mary, but I am suddenly not feeling well. I believe I should not have had that last cup of wine until after I ate. Please excuse me.”

Without waiting for a response from Mary or her cousin, Deirdre made her way as inconspicuously as she could to the wall that would lead to doors to the passageway to her private chamber. Her eyes swung between where Magnus now stood and where she knew her parents, or specifically her father, sat.

Dear God in Heaven, please dinna let Da see him. Not yet at least. I dinna want to be here for that reunion. I dinna want any reunions.

Bah, ye little liar. Ye ken that isnae true. Ye’ve craved seeing him again every day for the past seven years.

Now he is here, and I’m running away. Just like I did seven years ago. I canna see him now or talk to him here. But I must find a way. I canna ken he is here and not be near him. If I could just touch him once. Just once to ken, he is real. God how I miss him.

Deirdre swallowed the sob that tried to escape. Her eyes were becoming glassy, and she felt unsteady on her feet. She tried to move faster towards the exit, but even with servants about to serve the meal, there were still a substantial amount of people milling about and standing between her and escape.

She made it to the door when she felt a body press against her from behind. She recognized it thanks to the perfume saturated satin clothes used to hide a suffocating odor. A bony hand gripped her arm, and a whiny voice came from just behind her ear.

“Just where do you think you are sneaking off to, my dove?” Archibald Hay sneered. He pinched the skin on the back of her arm, and it stung even though she had thick fabric between her skin and his. She could not fathom the disgust she would feel if and when his skin contacted hers.

“I am feeling a little peaked and thought to retire early. I hope I have not caught the ague, but if so, I would not want to give it to you, my lord. It would be best if I was not to close to anyone.”

“I have a very healthy constitution. Once we wed, we shall be together quite a bit. At least until you birth me my two sons. I suppose I shall have to get used to your sickly nature if you turn out prone to illness. As long as you can survive the birth, we shall get along quite nicely.” Hay tugged at her arm and dragged her from the hall.

Deirdre looked over her shoulder and scanned the room for her father. A man she had purposely just avoided, her father was the one man she most needed to find. She attempted to push her heels into the floor and slow their progress, but even though he was a thin man, Hay was still stronger than her.

“Come along,” she could not miss the note of warning as they passed through the doorway and he yanked her down the passageway.

 

Chapter Two

 

Magnus faced the king but his eyes had not left Deirdre since he walked past. He forced himself to look forward after catching her eye, but once he could angle himself to see her again, he watched like one of her prized falcons.

Why do I have to remember every little detail as though it were just a day ago? It’s been seven long, miserable years, and it’s as though it was yesterday we were last together.

“Magnus, I believe you wanted an audience with me and now your mind is clearly elsewhere,” the king sounded annoyed by the lack of attention he received from the youngest son of one of his favorite lairds. The Sinclairs were one of the most loyal clans he had in the Highlands, even across all of Scotland. The king was amenable to supporting the Sinclairs in resolving their current feuds but not if Magnus could not remember his manners.

“Aye, sire. But just a wee moment ago, I saw Lady Deirdre Fraser leaving with a mon who didna seem vera gentle with her person. Who might he be?”

“That would most likely have been Archibald Hay, the younger nephew of Lord Hay. Fraser is in the process of arranging a betrothal between Hay and his daughter. I rather like the lass and her father dotes upon her, so I cannot understand why he would even remotely consider marrying her off to him.”

Magnus thought his head would explode. The ringing in his ears was back, and anger he reserved for the battlefield coursed through him. He leaned forward into a step before he realized from whom he was about to walk away.

“Begging yer pardon, Yer Grace, but I wanted to greet ye and thank ye for the accommodations ye’ve provided during ma stay. I dinna want to keep ye from yer supper or yer advisors who seem to grow anxious. If ye will excuse me, I shall find ma way to a table.”

Magnus bowed and backed away before the king could do more than nod. As he took another two steps back, the crowd filled in around him, so he could swing around and make his way to the door. He did not attempt subtlety while leaving.

If she thinks she is marrying that mon or any other, then she will explain herself to nae just me but the bluidy pope.

Magnus’s angry stride made it obvious to the guards he intended to leave, so the two men opened wide both doors. He passed through and scanned the passageway, spotting two figures just as the larger one pushed the smaller one into an alcove.

Magnus began to run.

“Lord Archibald, you will ruin my gown if you are not careful. My maid will surely tell my parents if I arrive with a ruined gown. They will not appreciate the wasted expense.”

“I will buy you all the pretty gowns you will need, which will not be many since I intend to take you back to Slains Castle where you will not have to worry since it is remote, and no one shall visit.” He spun Deirdre around and pulled her to him. His hands grasped the front of the gown and pulled. The sturdy silk and embroidered satin of her court gown were strong enough to withstand his manhandling.

“Lord Archibald, stop. Ye canna be doing this. This isnae right nor proper. Stop now.” A hand whipped through the air and a whistle followed just before Hay’s palm contacted Deirdre’s cheek.

“I never want to hear that barbaric brogue come out from between your lips, or I will be shoving something between them to keep them quiet. Do you understand my meaning?”

Deirdre was too scared and now too angry to think about her accent. She knew she had precious few minutes left to make her escape before Hay ensured there would be a wedding without question. She struggled against him and tried to push him away. She shoved him back a few steps, but his inability to stand his ground against a woman only infuriated him.

“Good to know you like it rough. We shall get along quite well in the bedchamber or any other chamber I desire. Someone needs to teach you obedience. Your weak-willed father has spoiled you entirely too much. You’re in need of someone who will break that stubborn streak.”

Deirdre respected her father, and while she would admit to herself that he had numerous and significant flaws, she would not stand for anyone disparaging him even if done in private. She tried to push her way past the odious man, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and practically carried her all the way into the back of the alcove until her back hit a wall.

“Dinna! Stop!” Deirdre screamed as loud as she could, hoping at least one guard would realize that she had not agreed to this tryst or someone passing by might inquire why a young woman was calling out for rescue.

As Hay struggled to pin her against the wall while fumbling with his breeks, Deirdre struggled to reach her own dirk. She began wearing dirks the summer she turned three and ten. It was Magnus who had insisted that she carry protection against unwanted attention. Her only problem now was that she could not reach either dirk strapped to her thigh without lifting her skirts, and she had no intention of offering anything Hay might consider an invitation.

Suddenly, the hand that was unfastening his pants was pulling her hand forward. Her fingers brushed against something small and hard. She knew what it was, and she let forth the most blood-curdling scream she could muster as Hay forced her to wrap her fingers around his manhood.

She screamed yet again just as Magnus grabbed a lit torch from a wall sconce before pushing the curtain aside. He dropped it in the bracket inside the entrance.

Before she could attempt to pull her hand away, someone flung the curtain open and the frame of a very large and very irate man filled the opening and blocked out any light that might have slid in. Lord Archibald was lifted off his feet and thrown back towards the passageway.

Deirdre knew within an instant who came to rescue her. She shrank back into the shadows to avoid anyone seeing her. The last thing she needed was for a witness to identify her as being the woman caught in a dark and secluded area with Lord Archibald Hay. She would have happily stayed hidden until both men left, but when she saw the gleam of metal in Magnus’s hand, she knew only one man would walk away if she did not step forward.

“Ye thought ye could rape yer way to making her yer wife. Ye thought ye would overpower her, harm her, then claim her. I saw ye pushing her into here, and I heard all of her screams. The lass didna want ye, and I would venture ma last fourthling she never will want ye. I wouldnae set yer heart on a betrothal.” Magnus raised his arm and drew it back in preparation to castrate the man. Even in his anger, he knew he could not kill the man in the king’s castle. Regardless of whether or not he was defending a woman, killing anyone, especially a border lord, would see him locked away and that would only leave Deirdre more defenseless. He would have to content himself with making sure Archibald Hay would never impose himself upon another woman.

“Magnus,” Deirdre whispered, “please dinna. Nae here. Dinna kill him. Nae over me. Dinna forfeit yer life with his.”

“I amnae going to kill the bastard only geld him.” He pulled his arm back further and was ready to strike when two small hands rested on his back, and he felt her lean around him.

“He’s too well connected. He has ties to the de Soules, Magnus.” Deirdre’s voice was barely audible but the name de Soules was enough to make him pause. “Just make him go away, please. Magnus, just make him leave.”

Magnus chanced a glance over his shoulder and quickly took in her disheveled hair and the mangled front of her gown. His desire to kill Hay rose again, but he also saw the apprehension in her eyes. He nodded once and turned back to Hay.

“Ye live to see another day. But come near her again, threaten her again, and ye willna see another sunset.” He pulled Hay back to his feet and pulled him by the collar to the doorway. He nudged him out and stood in his most intimidating stance with his feet hip-width apart and arms crossed. He, his father, and brothers all stood this way so often that it was second nature to them, but it had the desired effect of frightening most people away.

“You may think you’ve won, Highlander, but she will be my wife soon enough. Then you will not be able to touch me, but I will certainly touch her. Any and every way I want.”

Magnus flexed his chest, and Hayscrambled to his feet. Seeing Magnus’s arms flex, Hay hastily retreated down the passageway. Once he was out of sight, Magnus pulled the curtain closed before turning to face the one woman who was the bane of his existence, the torment of his life, and the keeper of his heart.

Deirdre took in the man who stood in front of her. In so many ways he was a complete stranger. He had filled out and seemingly doubled in size since she last saw him. He was barely more than a young man then. The person in front of her was a battle-seasoned warrior. She worried her bottom lip as she breathed in the scent that wafted through her mind just as she fell asleep. The pine and bergamot scent along with something uniquely his. Her eyes slid closed as the pad of his thumb pried her lip loose.

This was the gesture of a lover, not a stranger. Her senses filled with memories from what felt like a lifetime ago, what was a lifetime ago. His hand cupped her cheek, and his long fingers massaged tension from the base of her scalp.

“Ye remember.”

“How could I ever forget?”

Deirdre opened her eyes to look into his smoky brown ones just as she had done so many times over the years before being forced apart.

“Magnus, ye ken I didna choose to be in here, right? I didna choose any of it.” Her voice trailed off as the lump in her throat felt as though it would strangle her.

“I ken ye didna want to come in here. I saw him with ye before ye even left the gathering hall, then I saw him bring ye in here, and I heard yer screams. Would that I never have to hear them again.” He used his other hand to brush her honey-colored spiral curls back over her shoulder. “I also ken that neither of us had any say in how things stand. I took a long time to accept that, but I have.”

“Ye accept it? Deirdre shrank back and looked around wildy, suddenly needing to escape Magnus almost as badly as she did Hay.

“Wheesht, eun beag.”

Little bird. Zounds. How I have missed hearing that. I canna stand Archibald calling me his dove, but to hear Magnus call me his little bird makes everything feel right again. But it isnae right. It maynae ever be right again.

A soft sob escaped her as she tried to squeeze past the monolith that stood between her and the exit.

Magnus pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her. At a foot shorter than Magnus, Deirdre’s head rested squarely in the center of his chest. She could hear the steady, albeit fast, rhythm of his heart. The cadence calmed her as it always had; however, that only made her remember it had been years since she had heard it or felt it. She tried to pull back, but while he did not force her to stay in place, he did not let go. Deirdre knew if she stepped back again, he would release her. She did not want that after all.

“Ye accept it?” She repeated.

“Aye, I accepted that ye werenae responsible for yer father’s decisions. Ye made yer choice, and I have accepted it.”

Deirdre’s sigh of relief was audible, and Magnus looked down at her raising one brow.

“I thought ye accepted that we canna be together.”

“Canna? Is that what ye’ve accepted?”

“Nay. The heavens ken I would be better off if I could, but I dinna think I will ever accept losing ye.”

“Deir, what are ye talking aboot losing me? I dinna think ye mean just the time apart. Ye chose to follow yer father instead.”

“I dinna want to talk aboot this. Nae here and nae now.”

“Then when? When exactly do ye think we will have a chance to be alone again? Once yer father kens I’m here, if he hasnae already heard from Hay or someone else, he willna let ye in spitting distance of me. If ye dinna want me near ye, if ye dinna want me anymore, then say as much, lass. But dinna think it will be enough to end things or to allow ye to marry someone else.”

Deirdre heard the hard edge creeping into his voice and the unbending steel that laced each of his final words. She shook her head and once again felt tears pricking behind her eyelids, but after years of crying herself to sleep every night, she seemed to have none left to fall.

“How could ye think I dinna want ye anymore? It’s ye who’s moved on. It’s ye who ignored every attempt I made.”

“Moved on? Attempts? I havenae moved a barleycorn on, and ye are the one who turned away every attempt I made to contact ye.”

“What attempts? Ye barely waited for me to leave the last gathering before ye had another lass on yer lap. Ye forgot aboot me and carried on yer merry way.”

Deirdre watched as a stone mask slipped down over Magnus’s face. A hardness entered his eyes she never saw before. A shiver ran down her spine, and when he spoke again, the void of emotion made the hair on her arms stand up.

“Dinna think to pass off on me what ye are guilty of yerself. Ye left that gathering without saying goodbye. Ye didnae even look back over yer shoulder. Since then, ye sent back every single one of ma letters. Do ye have any idea just how many pieces of folded vellum I have tucked away in ma chamber? Let us see. There are fifty-two sennights in a year, and it’s been seven years. That would be three hundred and sixty-four letters carried by one of ma clan’s messengers only to be brought back to me. Aye, ye heard me. One for each sennight. In the beginning, I sent them off the first day of each sennight. Then it became every fortnight, and eventually every moon. Even to this day, one of our messengers travels with four letters to either Castle Dounie or wherever yer clan says ye are in residence.”

“Three hundred and sixty-four?” Deirdre emphatically shook her head. “That canna be. How could I nae have received a single one of those? I have never received a letter or missive of any kind from ye once we separated.”

“We didna separate. Ye were taken from me,” Magnus growled. “And wait just a wee moment. I’d like to go back to the part where ye claimed I’ve been unfaithful. Just which lass was on ma lap and when?”

“Ma sisters told me they saw ye in the mead tent after ma father told ye that we couldnae wed. They said they saw ye with some wench sprawled across ye with her tits half hanging out.” Deirdre could feel her cheeks heating from anger and embarrassment. She knew she may swear from time to time, but she usually was not vulgar.

Magnus pulled his arms in and crossed them. He looked down at her with a sneer that almost rivaled Hay’s.

“Did ye sisters tell ye that before or after they heard yer father malign me? Ye do remember that I have three older brothers, and we’re three peas in a pod. Did it cross yer mind that mayhap it wasnae me but one of them? Or more likely, yer sisters saw naught because there was naught to see. Just what were those fine young ladies doing near a mead tent, to begin with? How did they come to be near such a place to have witnessed such a thing?”

It forced Deirdre to consider what her family had told her so long ago. She had rebelled against the very notion, but her sisters and then father and mother had been so adamant that Magnus had barely batted an eye when her family forced her to leave without saying goodbye.

“I have heard the tales though. Even all the way at court, ye Sinclair brothers are well renowned for yer charm and appeal to the ladies. I have heard what ye have become.”

Magnus leaned all the way forward so that their noses were nearly touching.

“And just what have I become? Ye seem to ken a great deal aboot me when we havenae seen each other in seven years, and ye definitely havenae heard any of the news I’ve tried to share with ye.”

Deirdre licked her lips and pushed her hair off her shoulder before wiping her hands on her kirtle. She felt ill thinking about and now having to say what they forced her to hear repeatedly throughout the past seven years.

“I ken that ye are popular with the ladies. Ye go gallivanting with yer randy brothers and are often found with a wench on yer lap. Ye tup willing lasses whenever one catches yer eye, and ye have quite the reputation as a lover.”

There. She had said it, and now she wanted to be violently ill all over his calf-skin boots. Black spots danced around the corners of her eyes, and her body swayed. Strong but gentle hands grasped her arms as she felt herself being walked over to a bench she had not noticed before. She expected to feel the cold firmness of stone beneath her; however, her backside met the warm firmness of his lap.

“Deirdre, hear me now for I willnae have ye gainsaying me on this. Ye kenned that I had been with a few other women before I met ye that first summer. I remember exactly what ye were wearing and what ye were doing the vera first time I ever laid eyes on ye, but ye were barely three and ten, and I was a lusty and curious six and ten. I told ye from the vera start I bedded ma first barmaid when I was barely five and ten. I can thank Callum for that saint’s day gift, and I can thank Mairghread for interrupting the only other time I tried tupping a barmaid. I was interested in ye, but ye were far too young that first summer. Ye ken already that I wasna celibate between that summer and the next, but neither was I some man whore. I was simply healthy and curious. That following summer though, when I started courting ye, everything changed. I havenae been with any woman but ye since I was seven and ten, Deirdre. Did ye nae believe me when I told ye that I would wait for ye? Did ye nae believe me when I said I hadnae been with anyone else during our entire courtship? How could ye believe I would be with another woman once we were wed?”

“Magnus, we handfasted, and it has certainly been far more than a year and a day.”

“And I told ye before we pledged ourselves, a handfast was as good as a kirking. That never once changed, Deir. Ye are still ma wife, and I am still yer husband.” Deirdre heard him swallow. “Unless ye believed it was only for a year and a day, and ye dinna want to be bound to me. Mayhap ye have already moved on, or ye dinna want to be stuck with me now that ye have an opportunity to marry again.”

Deirdre needed space. She scooted off Magnus’s lap, and he let her go. She put her hands on her hips and looked down at him, then dropped her arms before turning away, but just as quickly, she spun back around. With her hands on her hips again, she looked almost squarely into his eyes even though he sat and she stood.

“I didna think it was just for a year and a day, but what was I supposed to think when I heard all these stories aboot ye with other women. Do ye have any idea how that pained me? How it still pains me? I dinna want to marry anyone else, certainly nae Archibald. To me, ye have always been ma husband, but I didna think ye still considered me yer wife.” She dropped her arms and seemed to wilt before Magnus’s eyes.

He guided her back onto his lap and tucked her head below his chin.

“Eun beag, there is much that we need to talk aboot, and much we need to resolve that we canna do now. But if naught else, I need ye to ken one thing. I havenae been with any other woman, nae touched, kissed, nor bedded any, since before I began courting ye. That was half a score of years ago. I have three older brothers who enjoy drinking and carousing as much as any other mon our ages. I do go with them, I do drink, but it was Callum and still is Tavish who chases the ladies. Alex was known to bed a lass here and there, but he was naught like Callum and Tavish. More often than nae, Alex and I shared a chamber and retired early while Callum and Tavish did whatever it was they did. Deir, I canna say this without sounding conceited, but it is the truth. Women chase me, but I dinna want aught to do with them. They see ma size and wonder if the auld wives’ tales are true. Then when they canna catch ma eye or gain ma attention, they want the chase. I admit I have used this to ma advantage to gain information, save a coin or two, or to distract someone, but I havenae ever done aught considered unfaithful. Ye ken what fidelity means to the Sinclairs, especially the men of the laird’s family. Ye must remember. Dinna ye?”

 

Chapter Three

 

Magnus’s question transported Deirdre back in time. She recalled so vividly the first time she saw Magnus. She was a young lass of only three and ten, but at five and ten, he was already the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. In her mind, she was no longer in the king’s castle, but a Highland gathering hosted by her own clan.

~   ~   ~

“Coming, Mama!” Deirdre scrambled to collect all of her books and sheets of vellum along with her inkwell and quill. Her mother was rarely a patient woman and with the main feast about to start, Deirdre was dreadfully late preparing for the meal. As the only daughter of Laird Donald Fraser, there was an expectation she not only attended the feast but be properly turned out.

Deirdre attempted to stack all her books neatly and then place the parchment on the top of the pile, but not all the sheets were dry yet. If she let them touch, they would smear, and it would waste her hours of work. She had worn a smock over her kirtle that had large pockets, already stained numerous times from her ink, in which she dropped her inkwell and used quills. She bent to lift the stack of books but realized that her hands were no longer free to gather the vellum. She tried to tuck half the stack under each arm, which seemed to be working. She stuck the corner of one sheet between her lips, and divided the other four between her two hands and sets of fingers. She began to straighten her legs but felt the left stack of books slip. When she tried to adjust her arm, she succeeded in dropping all of them.

“Zounds,” she groaned. When she spoke, the sheet from between her lips sailed away. Instinctively, she reached for the page, but that only resulted in her dropping two more sheets. Shaking her head, she set down the remaining books and the last two sheets of parchment just as a breeze picked up her writing and thought to carry it away.

“Nay! Ma work. Nae ma work.”

Deirdre halted when a large shadow fell over her and her jumble of belongings. Barely looking up, she tried to sidestep the hulk, but he reached out a hand that held the first sheet that took flight.

“Lass, I think ye’re wanting this back.”

Deirdre raised her eyes and caught her breath when she saw a face not much older than hers but resembled Adonis or Apollo from her books. The only difference in her mind was that she readily preferred the head of dark waves to the golden curls in the illustrations. She gulped before she could respond.

“Thank ye. I was most distraught.” She could not bring herself to look him in the eye. Her stomach suddenly felt like a flock of sparrows was flying about. However, when she heard a soft chuckle, her eyes darted up to glare at the owner of the offensive sound.

“Ye dinna seem that distraught, lass. Put out, perhaps. Even peeved, but definitely nae distraught. It isnae some great catastrophe.”

“Says ye,” she bit out between clenched teeth. “I have been working on this since sunrise. Vellum is vera expensive, and these books belong to ma father. He willna be pleased if they come back dirty and marred.” She bent to begin restacking the books.

“I didna mean to say they werenae important. I simply meant that ye didna overreact as some lasses might. Please let me help ye. Ma arms are longer.”

Everything is longer. He canna be that much older than me, but he’s gigantic. Does he have to be so braw? How is he so large? Fie! Why am I standing here gauping at him?

“I would vera much appreciate yer help. Everything was much easier to carry out this morning when the parchment didna have wet ink on them. Now I canna stack them and dinna have enough hands to hold it all.”

Magnus simply nodded as he squatted to gather all the books. He tucked the entire pile under one arm, and Deirdre’s eyes widened to see the ease with which he lifted something that was a burden for her.

Magnus bent down again and picked up two sheets of parchment that looked to be mostly dry. He turned them back to back and held them up.

“Ye have a vera fine script.”

“Ye’re kind to notice. It’s in Latin,” she finished quietly. She did not want to insult the young man, but she doubted he would know what the marks meant.

“Aye, and the one by yer feet is in Greek and the first one I picked up was in French. Two of these books are in Italian, one in Spanish, another two in Aramaic. I must admit that the two in Aramaic were the hardest ones for me to learn. I didna care for them overly much.”

Magnus turned to walk towards the keep. He could not keep from grinning when he knew the girl stood staring at his retreating back. He had known from the start she would assume he was illiterate. His size meant that most people took him to be lumbering and dimwitted at worst and a farm laborer at best. Most did not know he was the fourth son of a powerful laird.

Deirdre dashed to keep up with the long strides of this strange young man who had not bothered to introduce himself and now possessed her hard work and treasured resources.

“Ye’re familiar with some of these texts? The ones in Aramaic are rather rare.”

“Aye, there are only five known copies of that set anywhere in the Christian world. One is in England, one is in Spain, and two are in Scotland. Who do ye suppose owns the other set if ye have one of them?”

“Ye?” She asked in disbelief.

“Well, ma da does. We were all made to study them, but they technically belong to him.”

“Who is yer da? Ye havenae even introduced yerself.”

“Neither have ye.”

“I shouldnae even be talking to ye without a fromal introduction by a chaperone.”

“But ye are. We can walk back in silence if ye prefer.”

“That isnae what I meant, I ken ye ken that.”

“I am simply trying to come to yer aid. Ye seemed in need of an extra set of hands. I dinna think ye were too picky, nor do I think ye believed me to be worth much company before this moment.”

His accurate assessment of her first impression and her desire to make it back to the keep with any available help stunned Deirdre. She did not realize that she had stopped dead in her tracks until he looked back over his shoulder and nodded his head towards the keep. Once again, she found herself jogging to catch up.

“Deirdre. Deirdre Fraser.”

“Och, ye’re the lass Laird Fraser was going on aboot. I’m Magnus Sinclair.”

“Ye ken ma father? He was talking aboot me?”

“Aye. Only good things mind ye, but he said yer head was in the clouds and that yer mother had her work cut out for her.”

Deirdre jerked her chin back and narrowed her eyes. She was not sure who annoyed her most: her father for insulting her, her mother for always seeming inconvenienced by her, or this Magnus Sinclair who dared to repeat such an insult.”

“Is now when ye’re going to actually become distraught? He said it lovingly before one and all. There is nae a doubt in anyone’s mind that yer father dotes on ye.”

“One and all? Anyone’s mind? Just how many people were there when he said this.”

Magnus could hear the change in her voice and knew she was on the edge of actually being distraught. If his hands were not full, he could have slapped himself for being so insensitive as to repeat what he now realized was an exceedingly backhanded compliment.

“Deirdre, I am sorry. I realize I shouldnae repeated what I heard. Out of context, it doesnae seem vera kind, and ye father wasnae trying to speak ill of ye. I apologize for upsetting ye.” Magnus stopped and turned to face her.

He had already taken in her wild and curly hair that blew about in the breeze and showed she had run her hands through it numerous times. He had already counted the ink smears on her nose, cheeks, forehead, and chin. There were seven. He noticed her petite and slight frame as only an adolescent boy moving into manhood would. But he had not taken in the brilliance of her blue hazel eyes. They were the North Sea on a bright and clear day. He had seen the sea almost every day of his life whenever he looked from his chamber window. The blues and greens of her eyes matched the water on a calm day. As he looked at her longer, he felt himself slipping into their depths just as he did when he and his siblings went swimming in the chilly waters. He nearly shook his head when he realized how close he was to letting go of the parchment to wipe the ink from her face.

She is the bonniest lass I have seen here. I thought I would always prefer them buxom like the lass last eve, but she far exceeds the likes of any woman I have met before. I rather liked our banter too. She might be someone intelligent enough to talk with. Mairghread is off again with that lass she met from who kens which clan. Strange that the lass never wears a plaid.

Magnus found his mind wandering. He looked down again at Deirdre.

I dinna care what ma sister is up to. She can occupy herself with her friend, and I willnae have to babysit her. I can talk to Deirdre instead.

Magnus pulled himself back to the moment and smiled down at Deirdre.

“If ye will forgive me, perhaps we could meet on the morrow to discuss why ye’ve been scribbling away like a monk. I wouldnae mind learning what ye consider to be yer life’s work.”

“How do ye ken I consider it that?”

“It’s clear it holds tremendous importance to ye beyond the cost of the vellum and books.”

“Aye. Well, perhaps. I intend to work under the tree again.”

“Ye dinna plan to attend the games?”

“Nay. I ken what happens. The running, the archery, the caber. Naught new,” dismissive of the purpose of the Highland Gathering.

“Och, but ye havenae ever seen me compete before.”

Why did I just say that? Haud yer wheesht, mon, before ye’re inviting her to watch.

“I’m competing in the foot race, the caber toss, and dirk toss. Mayhap I could interest ye in taking a break for a wee moment.”

Didna I say mum’s the word? Now I’ve done it.

Deirdre tilted her head to one side as she examined Magnus to the point where he wanted to shuffle his feet. Suddenly, the collar of his leine felt too tight.

“Nay. But thank ye all the same. I can already tell ye will win them all. I havenae the time to watch others compete when the winner is a foregone conclusion. Even if it’s ye.” Deirdre felt her cheeks heat as the last sentence slipped out as more of a murmur.

“Thank ye for yer vote of confidence. I willna pester ye any longer.”

They reached the doors to the keep, and Magnus checked the ink. It was dry, so he handed the books back to Deirdre and put the sheets on top. He bowed from the waist and walked away. He left Deirdre standing alone staring after his retreating form. She could have kicked herself all the way up the stairs to her chamber where she changed to prepare for the feast.

He’s the only one near ma age who’s been nice. And I turned down his offer when he was just trying to be friendly. Fool!

Magnus stood around the Fraser’s Great Hall with his three older brothers and several other older lads and young men. Bored and hungry, which was his usual state of being, Magnus’s encounter with Deirdre Fraser still weighed on his mind.

“Are ye going to the mead tent again this evening? Or shall we try the tavern in the village? The wench I tupped last eve offered me another go. I plan to take her up on it.” Tavish asked Magnus quietly.

“Aye, I’ll go, but I dinna ken if I’m in the mood for tupping any barmaids. Mairghread catching me at home has soured ma taste on them. Mayhap there’s a servant aboot who might be interested.” Magnus knew as he spoke, he was not telling the truth. He was not particularly interested in bedding anyone who did not have blue hazel eyes. He felt a wave of guilt and disgust roll over him when he remembered that the girl he met that afternoon had to be at least a few years younger than him.

Ye’re too young to be a lecher. And she’s far too young, and she’s the laird’s daughter. She isnae some whore I can bed for a copper.

“I like ma women to have a wee more substance to them. Aye, one set of tits is usually as good as another as long as they’re big enough for me to find them.” Magnus heard one of the other young men comment as he forced himself to bring his mind back to the group.

“Aye, an arse and tits are all a mon really needs if it isnae food or time in the lists,” another lad said as he adjusted his crotch.

Magnus looked at his other brothers. They might talk about women among themselves, but not in such crass terms. Magnus saw Alex cock his head and nod for them to go. Magnus was just about to agree, but the next comment had him pause.

“The laird’s daughter might come with a healthy dowry, but who would want to bed her? She’s thinner than a maypole. Ye wouldnae ken if ye were holding her from the front or the back.” Magnus bristled as he heard the others laugh.

“Och, as long as each hole works, it doesnae matter which is the front or the back.”

Magnus opened his mouth to chastise the lads, but his height afforded him the ability to see past their shoulders to a face that was stark white with shock and humiliation. Deirdre’s face was set in a mask, but the color came rushing back as her face turned crimson. She spun on her heels and ran towards a darkened passageway.

“Ye arse! She heard ye.”

Magnus drew his fist back and slammed it in the young man’s stomach who just spoke. He threw a fist into the mouth of the other lad who began the rude comments about Deirdre. Magnus pushed past his brothers and ran to catch up with her. He saw a brief gleam of moonlight as a door opened and shut with enough force to echo. He sprinted to the end and pushed open the door which led him to a small orchard. He scanned the area, but the setting sun made it difficult for him to see anyone. A soft rustling of leaves drew his attention, and he glimpsed feet being pulled up. He tiptoed to the trunk of the tree and turned to rest his back against it. He looked up and saw her arrange her skirts about her. He smiled to himself then realized she might think he was laughing at her.

“Lass, ye canna stay up there all night. If naught else, they will miss ye on the dais.”

“True, but I would rather deal with Mama after the feast than return and be humiliated all over again.”

“Ye never did tell me how old ye are. I dinna think ye’re as old as ma six and ten or even ma sister’s five and ten.”

“I’m three and ten,” she whispered.

“Will ye come down so we might talk and I dinna have to keep ma eyes averted?”

“Nay. Ye dinna need to stand there if ye dinna want to.”

“Vera well. I accept yer invitation to come up.” Magnus hoisted himself up and perched on the branch across from hers.

“I didna invite ye up,” she spluttered.

“Och, I thought yer refusal to come down was just another way of asking me to come up. Ye ken I canna be vera bright on account of ma size. All brawn and nay brains.”

Magnus winked at her. Surprised that he would joke at his own expense, it took Deirdre a moment before she burst out laughing.

Magnus knew in that moment he was lost. The sound of her laughter soaked into his mind and his heart, if not even his soul. He forced himself to remember that she said she was only three and ten. There was nothing he could do at this gathering, but he resolved to wait until she was four and ten. He would begin courting her then.

“Deir, I ken ye heard what they said, and I’m sorry for it. I wish I could take it all back so ye wouldnae be hurt or embarrassed. But do ye see how ridiculous it is that those two lads, who are older than me, are even commenting on a lass as young as ye and how it makes them look like naught more than lechers.”

Ye’re nae far off either, but at least she doesnae ken that.

“I’m old enough to marry, but I amnae what any mon wants. I dinna look more than a child.” Deirdre pulled her knees to her chest and laid her cheek upon them as she wrapped her arms around them.

Magnus recognized the position as protective. She wanted to shrink away to nothing. His heart ached for her. She had been vibrant and wild that afternoon and full of spirit. Now, she seemed to be retreating into a shell.

“Mayhap ye are old enough to wed, but ye dina have to. Ma sister, Mairghread, is less than a year younger than I am. She’s only five and ten, and I ken ma da wouldnae ever consider marrying her off so young. I dinna think ye father would either. From his tone this afternoon, I think he might try to keep ye forever.” Magnus beamed hoping to coax her out.

“That’s only because ma brother is still too young to hunt with him. Once he is old enough to ride and hunt and train in the lists, ma father willna be so keen to keep me around.”

Magnus would not argue with her, but something told him he would have an uphill battle ahead of him when he requested permission to court Deirdre.

How am I so sure already?

“Magnus, do ye think I’ll ever become a woman that a mon might want?”

The question was asked so softly that he almost did not hear her. He looked into the eyes that reminded him so much of home and reached out to cup her cheek.

“Ye already have,” Magnus swept his lips over hers.

~   ~   ~

It took a moment before Deirdre realized Magnus was waiting for an answer. She was so lost to her memories she almost forgot what he was saying.

“Aye, I remember ye explained what fidelity means to the Sinclairs, but after a year and a day, after seven years, I didna ken if ye would feel bound to that pledge anymore. I could understand if ye wouldnae.”

Mangus shook his head and scowled. Absentmindedly, Deirdre reached out and smoothed the crease between his eyebrows.

“Where were ye a moment ago? Ye seemed so far away.”

“I was remembering the day we met.”

Magnus stood and took a step towards her, and when she did not back up or shift away, he cupped her cheek and whisked his lips against hers.

“The day I knew I would be yers for a lifetime, Deir.”

She lifted her chin to meet his lips and pressed back against them. Her mewl was enough to have them wrapping their arms around one another. Magnus brushed his tongue against her lips, and she instantly parted them. She opened her mouth wide, inviting his thrusting tongue in, so she could softly suck on it. Magnus wrapped her hair around his hand as he pinned her against his chest. Deirdre did not think twice about melting into his hold. She spent almost every night of the past seven years falling asleep to thoughts about this exact moment when she could kiss him again for the first time, when they could touch each other again, when they could reunite. Her hands traveled over his chest and back then over his shoulders and up and down his arms. Her frustration grew as material kept her from the heat emanating through every inch of him. Magnus’s mouth meandered from hers and kissed a line along her jaw to the hollow at the base of her throat. He followed her collarbone to her shoulder and up her neck until he caught her between a laugh and a moan before nipping her earlobe.

“Ye remembered that I’m ticklish there.”

“Aye. I remember a great many things aboot yer body. I remember that we learned them together.”

Deirdre’s hands slid to his belt and tugged him forward then moved to his outer hips. She found the grooves that fascinated her when she first discovered them all those years ago. She marveled then and now at how different his body was from her own. The nooks and crannies he had that did not exist on her own body felt familiar but different all at once. There was so much that she wanted to become reacquainted with and so much she wanted to learn.

“I remember that ye liked it when I sucked yer tongue. Seems that hasnae changed.” She grinned up at him.

“Nay, that certainly hasnae changed. Ye had me almost spilling when ye did that.”

Voices from the passageway that were entirely too close for either of their comfort cut Magnus’s comment short. They stood still and held their breath as they waited for whoever was in the passageway to move on. When there was silence once again, he kissed the tip of her nose.

"Deir, we canna stay in here forever. Someone will miss yer presence, and ye dinna need yer mother and father searching for ye."

A soul-deep sigh passed Deirdre's lips.

"I ken ye're right, but I dinna want to return to the Great Hall, I dinna feel safe walking the passageways alone," she looked into Magnus's eyes and melted into him. "Dinna make me leave ye," she finished in little more than a whisper.

Magnus held her tightly, breathing in the soft scent of apples. She had always been the only lass he knew who favored a fruit scent to floral. He wanted nothing more than to hold her for every moment until forever, but he knew that was not an option. At least not yet.

I amnae a lad anymore who will have his future dictated by a social climber. I amnae letting Deirdre go again. She was mine, is mine, and will always be mine.

Magnus did not realize how he tightened his grip until he felt a light tapping on his chest.

"Magnus, I canna breathe."

"Sorry, love," he kissed the crown of her head. "I dinna want to let you go either, but it still doesnae change that we canna stay here much longer. Why were ye fleeing in the first place? It was because of me." He finished with a statement.

He felt Deirdre shudder before he felt her nod.

"It was just too much seeing ye so suddenly, and ye seemed so angry and cold when ye did look at me. I felt like I was suffocating or drowning, mayhap both at once. I wanted to cry in private."

"Deirdre, I was angry. I didna expect to hear yer laugh. God how that hurt since I didna even ken ye were at court, then to see ye there laughing and merry. Ye seem to have made a happy life for yerself here. It made ma letters’ rejection hurt all over again. It's bad enough once a moon, but to see ye." He shook his head.

Tears slid down Deirdre's cheeks in a current too fast for her to wipe away. Magnus pulled the end of his plaid that lay over his shoulder to blot away the fat droplets.

"It's like losing ye all over again to hear ye've been trying for so long, and I had nay idea. I tried to write to ye, but ma father and mother kept telling me that ye didna want me. They forbid me and told me to stop embarrassing the family by mooning over a lad who was tupping another lass before we even left the gathering."

"And ye believed them." Magnus's voice had an edge to it that sliced through Deirdre like a hot knife through butter.

"Nae at first. It hurt me to hear ye had some wench on yer lap. Merciful heavens, how that nearly drove me mad. But then ma family kept insisting that ye had moved on. They shared stories of ye that infuriated me. I wanted to murder ye. Then it was just numbness. I couldnae resolve what I kenned of ye after so many years with what they told me. I may make merry here, but that's only because they expect it of me. My duties to the queen are much more tolerable when ma family thinks I am being biddable. It doesnae mean I feel any less hollow."

Once again, Deirdre looked up at Magnus. She noticed at some point, she grabbed handfuls of his leine now bunched into her closed fists. She held onto the only lifeline thrown to her in years.

"Please, Magnus, dinna make me go back. Dinna make me leave ye,” she caught her breath as she felt her heart race, this time out of fear rather than pleasure, “Dinna leave me. I canna survive that again. Aught but that."

"Just what are ye asking for, eun beag? A night? One more tryst before ye marry another mon?"

"Nay!" Her sobs became uncontrollable. They rattled through her whole body but were silent. Years of crying herself to sleep or escaping into secluded gardens taught her the value of keeping quiet.

Magnus was at a loss for what to do now. He comforted her as best he could, moving back to sit down and cradling her in his arms.

"Take me away. Find us a kirk, so we can be wed. Make me yer wife. Again. For this night and every one after. I canna go back. Magnus, I willna."

Magnus heard the determination he had admired in her from the moment he picked up her first perfectly scribed piece of vellum.

"Deirdre, there is naught more in this life or the next that I want more than to do just that. Every part of me screams to run with ye, but we arenae children anymore. I dinna need a king's bounty on ma head nor our marriage overturned. Besides, I came here to seek the king's support in the ongoing feuds that endanger ma clan and ma family. I canna desert them or ma duty. They dinna deserve that. Could ye respect me if I did? If I was that selfish and irresponsible? I wouldnae want ye to. We must at least try to gain the king's approval of our union. First, I must resolve ma family's disputes then I can petition for yer hand."

Once again, a bone-weary sigh seeped from her.

"And if ye dinna succeed? If ma father has too much sway with the king? He has already petitioned the king for permission to marry me to Lord Archibald."

Magnus's teeth ground together with such force that Deirdre thought they might crack. She ran her hand along his jaw, and he turned his cheek into her palm, relaxing immediately.

"I amnae above bride stealing."

With that, Magnus rose to his feet and once more set Deirdre on hers. Holding her hand, he peered out of the alcove, looking both ways. He stepped out but blocked Deirdre from following. He took his time counting to twenty before being convinced Deirdre was safe to reappear.

"Take me to yer chamber.”

They said nothing else once in the passageway, and they continued to her lady-in-waiting chamber.