Ceci Giltenan Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Title Page

  Copyright Information

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Twenty Four

  Twenty Five

  Twenty Six

  Twenty Seven

  Twenty Eight

  Twenty Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty One

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Champagne Books Presents

  Highland Solution

  By

  Ceci Giltenan

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Champagne Books

  www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright 2013 by Ceci Giltenan

  ISBN 978-1-77155-086-4

  September 2013

  Cover Art by Petra K.

  Cover Model: Jimmy Thomas

  Produced in Canada

  Champagne Book Group

  #2 19-3 Avenue SE

  High River, AB T1V 1G3

  Canada

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Champagnebooks.com (or a retailer of your choice) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  To my beloved husband and children, thank you for your love and support.

  One

  Cotharach Castle, Central Scottish Lowlands, June 1359

  “Lady Katherine, oh, Lady Katherine, there you are,” said an ashen faced chambermaid as she rushed into the kitchen. “You have to come quick. There are two Highlanders in the great hall with your uncle. Sir Ruthven bid me to fetch you there now.”

  Hot, flushed, and certainly not prepared to receive visitors or face her uncle again so soon, Katherine sighed, saying, “You stay here. I’ll go to the great hall alone. It never pays to keep Uncle Ambrose waiting.” At the look of panic on the girl’s face, Katherine added, “I’m sure it’s nothing, don’t worry.”

  Katherine froze when she saw at least a dozen rather imposing Highland warriors waiting in the courtyard. An even larger group of Ruthven soldiers kept their distance, observing the strangers cautiously. Knowing she’d pay for it later, she stepped back into the kitchen and asked Moyna to offer them food and ale. Then, fearing she had already kept her uncle waiting too long, she hurried into the great hall.

  She entered with her head down. Sometimes a show of subservience tempered her uncle’s anger. He read from an unfurled scroll and didn’t acknowledge her immediately, so, with her eyes still downcast, she took a quick look to her right.

  Two sets of feet in the open leather shoes Highlanders wore caught her attention. Unbidden, her eyes followed the nearest thickly muscled bare legs up the length of the man’s tall, powerfully built body. He wore typical Highland clothing, a belted linen tunic that barely reached his knees, with a plaid fastened by a brooch around his massive shoulders. She had to tilt her head back to see his face. The grim expression he wore startled her. Clearly this man was not happy and she suspected Uncle Ambrose had something to do with it.

  Katherine realized eventually that her uncle didn’t intend to acknowledge her. Unable to stand the tension any longer, she said, “Uncle Ambrose, you sent for me?” Chancing another quick glance at the Highlander she saw his grim expression replaced first by confusion, followed very quickly by anger.

  Turning her attention back to Uncle Ambrose, his barely concealed glee worried her. Finally he answered her, “Yes, Katherine, my darling, we have received a missive from the king and it concerns you.”

  This is definitely not good. She carefully kept her emotions masked. “Me?” she asked calmly.

  “Yes, my sweet. This is Niall MacIan, Laird of Clan MacIan,” he said, gesturing to the angry warrior she had eyed, “and the commander of his guard, Diarmad. Our king has requested that you become Laird MacIan’s wife.” Katherine took a breath and, with supreme will, continued to appear calm and emotionless.

  “Requested that I become his wife?” she asked slowly.

  “Of course, my dear, it is a request.”

  “I can decline this request?

  “Of course you can, Katherine. However, His Majesty says if you choose to decline, it is in your best interest, and the best interests of Clan Ruthvan, for me to be named Lord Ruthvan and for you to enter the religious life.”

  “And what happens to Cotharach and my people if I accept the proposal?” she asked, a note of panic creeping into her voice.

  A look of smug satisfaction crossed her uncle’s face, and he spoke to her as if she were a very dull child.

  “Oh, my dear, I have bungled this badly. I will start over and try to help you understand. His Majesty feels it is in the best interests of Clan Ruthvan for me to assume control as Lord Ruthvan and rule Cotharach. He is giving you two options. The one His Majesty prefers is for you to marry Laird MacIan and go with him to his home in the Highlands. As your husband, Laird MacIan will renounce his claim to your title and lands. In return, he will receive an exceedingly generous dowry. However, if this is not acceptable, you may choose to enter the religious life. The good sisters will receive a modest dowry, but His Majesty has determined that Laird MacIan will still receive the bulk of your dowry because of his willingness to aid his king in this matter. Does that make it clear, my dear?”

  Katherine felt as if she had descended into swirling chaos and she trembled. Trying not to reveal her inner turmoil, which would add to his pleasure, she bowed her head and whispered, “Aye, uncle. I understand.”

  After a moment, she looked directly into the eyes of each of the three men staring at her. In Uncle Ambrose’s expression she read joy, in Diarmad’s, pity, and in Laird MacIan’s, iron determination. She wanted to run—she needed to think.

  Her uncle prodded, “Well, dear, which will it be?”

  “You want a decision now? Am I to be given no time to consider this?”

  In a colder, less unctuous voice, Uncle Ambrose said, “You must choose now. You can leave for the convent within the hour or, if you choose marriage, we will summon Father James and you can be married as soon as he arrives. Laird MacIan is anxious to return to the Highlands, so he wishes to depart immediately after exchanging wedding vows. Either way, you leave today.”

  Katherine knew her uncle had won, she just didn’t know how he had done it. From the day her father died, Ambrose had wanted the title and lands that were to be held in reserve for her husband. How had this Highlander been convinced to marry her and relinquish all but a portion of her wealth? She didn’t relish
either option. Finally she said flatly, “I will marry.”

  “Very well, I will send for Father James.” As Katherine turned to leave, her uncle demanded, “Where are you going?”

  She glanced down at the old gown she generally wore when working and realized the absurdity of this situation. She lifted her head, stared at her uncle, and said, “For the next few minutes at least, Uncle, I am Lady Katherine Ruthven. This is my keep. I am going to pack my things and dress for my wedding.”

  She turned again to leave the great hall, and for the first time, she heard her betrothed’s voice, “Lass, one bag is all ye’ll be bringing.”

  She nodded and quietly said, “Aye, Laird,” before leaving. Katherine paused at the bottom of the steps and waited for the messenger Uncle Ambrose would send to the priest. Stopping him before he left the keep, she asked him to deliver an additional message on his way. Then Katherine climbed the stairs to her chambers.

  ~ * ~

  Already in a foul mood by the time he arrived at Cothrach Castle, waiting so long did nothing to improve Niall MacIan’s temperament. When he saw a servant enter the great hall instead of Lady Katherine, he reached his breaking point. He could not believe his ears when this servant addressed Ruthven as Uncle Ambrose. The lovely lass who stood before them couldn’t be the one whispered about in Edinburgh Castle. He stared boldly at her, taking in her honey colored hair and small, willowy frame. The faded gown she wore revealed softly curving hips and full breasts.

  Niall could only watch speechless as her uncle toyed with her like a cat with a mouse. At first she had appeared poised and unemotional, but it didn’t take long for her act to slip. He heard the panic rise in her voice, but surely she didn’t expect him to believe she was only concerned for her people? If she intended to manipulate his feelings by faking compassion, she would soon realize her folly.

  Still, when she captured his gaze for a moment, it shocked Niall to see the fear and confusion in the green depths of her eyes. From out of nowhere, he felt a powerful urge to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he refused to give in to that weakness. Still, while Lady Katherine was likely the same faithless, self-absorbed creature he believed all women to be, at that moment he wanted to crush Ruthven for being an insensitive cur.

  Needing to shake his unwelcomed response towards her seeming vulnerability, and also wanting to clearly establish his authority after her momentary show of spirit, he said, “Lass, one bag is all ye’ll be bringing.” She immediately became the meek, subservient lass who had first walked into the hall. Although it was what he intended, for some reason he found it disconcerting.

  ~ * ~

  On entering her chamber, Katherine found her maid, Emma, waiting and said bitterly, “I guess good news travels fast.”

  “Oh, my lady, what is going to happen to ye? Those Highlanders are huge. Ye’ll be killed for sure.” With that dire prediction, Emma burst into tears.

  Katherine put her arm around the girl’s shoulders, saying, “Don’t worry so, Emma. This is what the king wants and I will do it. Everything will be fine.” Dear God, she hoped with every fiber of her being everything would be fine, but she doubted it herself.

  “There isn’t much time and I need your help to get ready,” she said, hoping to refocus her distraught maid. Even with the unusually warm day, Katherine would have given anything to relax into a warm bath and attempt to come to terms with things, but she didn’t have time. Instead, with a few buckets of cold water, she refreshed herself with a quick wash. Emma helped Katherine dress in a fresh white linen kirtle under her best deep blue linen gown, the neck, cuffs, and sleeves of which Katherine had embroidered with delicate, pale blue, forget-me-nots like those growing near the loch by which Cotharach stood. Around her waist she fastened a gold belt that dropped low on her hips and she slipped on soft leather shoes. Emma unbraided and combed her lady’s hair, letting the mass of honey colored curls fall down Katherine’s back.

  “I always thought your wedding would be a great event,” Emma said as she gathered Katherine’s things to pack. “We would have two things to celebrate, not only your wedding, but being well rid of your uncle, too.”

  Funny, thought Katherine, at almost twenty, well past the age most noblewomen married, she had never given her wedding any thought. However, even if she had given in to such musings, she never would have imagined the wedding awaiting her. She smiled at Emma and said, “Well, at least we haven’t had ages to worry about it,” at which Emma burst into fresh tears.

  When Emma’s tears stopped, Katherine helped her finish the packing. “I am to only bring one bag,” Katherine said with mock sternness, making Emma giggle.

  “Oh, my,” Emma said, in the same mocking tone, “How will you ever decide what to pack?”

  Although very wealthy, Katherine had few belongings worth taking. Uncle Ambrose had confiscated all her jewelry and anything else of real value, ostensibly to safe-guard it. He only provided her with necessities, his reason being “to protect her from the sin of vanity,” so she took very good care of the few worn, faded garments she owned. She selected two white linen kirtles and the two least shabby of her gowns, a gold one made of soft light wool and a heavier, dark green one. Although the summer days had been very warm, she knew they travelled north to the Highlands, where even in summer the nights might be cold, so she packed a woolen mantle, too. She removed the most important items from her sewing basket, rolled them in a short length of linen, and tucked it into the bag. This left room for several shifts, some linen toweling, the leather bag containing a small supply of healing herbs and other ingredients for potions, balms, and poultices, and her one luxury, a cake of sweet smelling soap imported from Spain. Finally she packed the only belongings holding any sentimental significance to her, her mother’s ivory comb and her father’s jeweled dagger.

  “I guess I’m ready,” she said to Emma.

  “Go on, then. I’ll carry your things down.”

  “Emma, I might not get to see you again before I leave. I may not be able to say farewell to anybody. Please tell everyone I will miss them and I will keep you all in my prayers. Take care of yourself, Emma, stay out of my uncle’s way.” Before Emma had a chance to burst into tears again, Katherine gave her a quick hug and left.

  ~ * ~

  After finalizing the business agreements relating to the marriage, Niall and Diarmad waited in the great hall with Ambrose Ruthven while Lady Katherine readied herself. Eventually Niall had to turn his back to stare into the cold hearth because he couldn’t stand seeing Ruthven’s barely contained joy. The greedy bastard’s pleasure sickened Niall, yet he couldn’t deny feeling a certain amount of disgust in himself as well. It took a very desperate man to accept this betrothal and Niall had been beyond desperate. He had no funds to pay even the interest on the crushing debt Clan MacIan held. He had journeyed to Edinburgh to request financial help from the king, only to learn King David II had a significant debt of his own. He owed King Edward III of England a colossal ransom, one hundred thousand marks sterling with ten thousand marks due yearly on the nativity of St. John the Baptist. Apparently he had no compunction about bartering royal favor for coin, and clearly Ruthven had purchased one, inadvertently providing the solution to Niall’s problem as well.

  Niall had to admit Ruthven’s attempts to deter his niece’s suitors were particularly effective. He remembered his stepmother’s unpleasant reaction when she learned of his pending marriage.

  “Niall,” she said, “I have heard about this creature you plan to wed. My poor boy, it must be humiliating to know this is the best you can do. Why I have heard, from people who know, mind you, not only is she brainless, but she is practically an ogre. They say she even has fits, and is a hunchback.” When he failed to respond to Eithne’s barbs, she added, “Well, hopefully, your brother will find a more suitable wife. He is so good natured and handsome, we will be able to have a proper wedding. Perhaps he will give me grandchildren of whom I can be proud.”

&nb
sp; Even the king believed he might be saving Katherine from the humiliation of remaining unattached if he ordered her to enter a convent, giving Ambrose everything. He had all but agreed to do so until Niall approached him for aid. Niall assumed after seven years in exile and eleven more held captive for ransom, albeit not in depravation, the king had some qualms about forcing a young woman into a cloister. Evidently, he had no qualms about marrying her to a financially desperate Highland Laird, who would trade her title and lands for a larger dowry in coin. Why was it, for men like Ruthven, problems had a way of disappearing if enough money was thrown at them?

  As the silence grew heavy, Niall turned back around. He was pleased to see the happiness originally written on Ruthven’s face replaced with consternation. Perhaps he questioned the wisdom of giving his niece away to a complete stranger.

  With Niall’s attention on him once again, Ruthven cleared his throat a little to break the silence, and he said, “Ahem...uh, Laird MacIan, it occurs to me that you and my sweet, gentle niece will be traveling for several days to reach your home, and will likely be sleeping out of doors.” Niall arched an eyebrow and gave a slight nod, disdain etched on his features. “Yes. Well, you understand that my dear Katherine is of course innocent and might appreciate privacy.” A wiser man would have taken heed of the rising fury on the Highlander’s face, but Ambrose charged on, “I think it would be best if you wait until you reach your home to...consummate your marriage.”

  “Sir, would ye willingly marry your niece to a man without honor?” Laird MacIan said with menace.

  “N—no, of course not,” Ruthven stammered.

  “Then ye can be assured I do not need ye to school me in decency!” he roared.

  ~ * ~

  When she returned to the great hall, Katherine saw her uncle sitting in his upholstered chair looking oddly uncomfortable, both Highlanders standing silently by the hearth. Father James had arrived and even his chatter about the weather and crops didn’t lessen the tension in the room. Father James was the first to notice her as she slipped quietly into the great hall. He stopped mid-sentence, proclaiming, “My lady, you are radiant.”