Highland Christmas Page 2

  Chapter Three

  The repairs to the stable were coming along nicely. Michael had worked right along beside him as Mary fetched materials for them. The children were enjoying his visit immensely...which was more than he could say about Meghan. She tolerated his presence but kept her distance. He needed to work on that. Connor had already made up his mind that he would wed her but he wanted a willing bride...not a king's edict.

  King William, the Lion, knew that Connor was on a bride search but had found none to his liking after more than a year. Most were too young for his taste. The older ladies of the nobility were too false. He wished for a woman of good character who would not fear him...but stand as equal by his side. He cared nothing about her ancestry. It made no difference in who he chose. He was powerful enough to pick whomever he wished. This lass pleased him. He would speak with her after the bairns retired for the eve. She needed to assess his character, as well, if he was to get in her good graces.

  Meg felt her heart softening toward this stranger as she observed his interactions with her children that eve. They loved him already just because he treated them as if their opinions held worth. He seemed sincere when he dealt with them. She glanced up from her needlework as his deep voice thrummed through her consciousness. He was holding a drowsy Mary in his lap with Michael at his feet as he recited a Christmas Tide legend from the Vikings. His voice was soothing to her soul as she allowed herself to release some of her worries. He had brought enough food for them to ride out the winter and the peat would last even longer. For once, since her husband's death, she could relax and simply enjoy the moment.

  Suddenly she was locking gazes with this dark-haired stranger. She hadn't realized that she had been staring until that moment. Meg cleared her throat nervously as her eyes darted away. "It is getting late children. Time for bed." She blushed as her thoughts shot to Connor in bed. How shameful of her!

  Michael rose, taking Mary's hand. "Come sister, we can finish the story on the morrow. Good eve, Master Connor."

  "Good eve, children."

  After they had climbed to the loft, Connor settled before the hearth and began whittling on a block of wood as he considered how to begin the conversation. He had felt Meg's eyes on him earlier and knew she was warming toward him. Ahh...and the blush! The blush said much about where her thoughts were wandering! I must admit that my own have traveled there more than once lately. He glanced up as she broke the silence.

  "The bairns like ye."

  "As I like them. They are pleasing ta be around. I would wish for such a blessing one day soon...a family of my own."

  "Ye have a wife?" Was her voice a bit strained?

  Shaking his head, he returned to his carving. "Nay...nae wife. But I have been searching. What of your husband? Was he a good man?"

  Meg did not like to speak of him but she decided to let her guard down this once. "My husband was cruel ta me...and the bairns. We are better off without him. I do nae miss the beatings."

  Emerald eyes bore into her. "Nae man of worth would ever beat a woman! He was nae man! A lass is ta be nurtured and cared for...loved...naught less!" Connor knew then what he was up against. She did not trust men to be kind or gentle. He needed to prove her wrong.

  Connor lay awake staring at the ceiling as he considered the problem before him. How was he to gain Meghan’s trust when he was being deceitful about who he is and why he was there? Once she discovers it, everything that they will have built up will be torn down. He snarled in frustration. He would have to speak the truth and hope for the best. One thing is certain...she will nae be pleased, but there can be nae trust without honesty. I will have a sit-down with her on the morrow and explain all. With that decided, he rolled over and slept.

  Christmas Tide was upon them. Mary had been busy for the last seven days helping her mother with baking little black buns and shortbread for their meager festivities and the fast-approaching “first-footing”. Meg smiled down on her flour-covered industrious little daughter as she attempted to shape the black buns.

  Kneeling before her, she began wiping the white powder from her face and hands.

  “Why do ye nae rest this day, wee one, and go play afore all the snow is melted away? The baking is near done now.”

  “I would like that, Maither.” She turned her innocent blue eyes to her. “What think ye of Master Connor, Maither? Do ye like him?

  Meg gave her a startled glance before rising. Where did that thought come from? "Aye, he is a verra nice man...why do ye ask?”

  “Do ye like him enough ta make him our Da?”

  “What nonsense are ye spouting child? I am nae searching for a “Da”! We do just fine on our own, we need nae one else.” She did not need these temptations held out before her. The man would be gone soon and that would be the end of it! It was best to not let her thoughts stray to “what-if’s”. Besides, he has shown nae desire for me, only a lustful look on occasion. I do nae need anymore fatherless children.

  “Tis nae none sense!” she pouted. “Michael said he would like him for our Da and so would I!”

  “Then it be a good thing that the decision is mine! Now run along and enjoy the rest of the day.”

  “Alright...but I would wish it were so.” With a sad heart, she left to give Michael the bad news.

  Meg could not get the discussion out of her head as she finished her baking and began preparing the sup meal. She was very attracted to the handsome man, she could not deny it. But Lachlan had pleased her eye as well...and look at where that lead. Almost nightly beatings! She could not bear that again! If she were to wed Connor, he might do the same. A man did not show his true colors until he gained control. She had found that out the hard way! She shook her head. Twas best to stay a widow. A deep voice rumbled through her causing her heart to speed up.

  “It smells good in here, Meghan.”

  She glanced up at his chiseled face...her gaze captured in his determined stare. Her breath grew raspy as she beat down her foolish desires.

  “I would speak privately with ye, lass.”

  Looking about, she replied, “Tis about as private as can be arranged.” What was he up to?

  He cleared his throat as he came close. Brushing back stray blonde locks from her face, he peered deeply into her blue-green eyes. His own darkening with desire as he leaned over, placing a whisper-soft kiss on her lips. She trembled. Why had she allowed him that privilege? But she knew why. In spite of her fears...she desired him. When he was near she lost her senses. Meghan jerked back suddenly, as if bitten.

  “Forgive me, my lady. I forget my purpose here.”

  “Twas naught! Do nae concern yourself.”

  He smiled. Mayhap that peck was naught, but what I would do...ahh. But first things first. “I have come ta ye because I have a confession ta make if ye are ta trust me.”

  “Trust ye?” She was bewildered. “What does that matter? I trust ye the same as any other man I meet. Besides, ye will be gone soon.”

  Sighing, he shook his head. This was going to be difficult. “Nay, Meghan. I have been deceitful with ye about who I am and...my purpose here.”

  She backed up a step, alarm flashing through her. “What mean ye? Is “Connor” nae who ye be?”

  “Sit, my lady, and I will explain all.”

  Chapter Four

  Meghan sat down hard as her opinions of this man joined all the rest and her secret dreams crashed to the pit of her stomach. I should have learned by now. All men are the same!

  Placing his hands behind his back so that he would not take her into his arms, he began. “I am Connor MacGee, tis true enough, but my surname is Canmore. I am the Earl of Strathmore...cousin ta King William.”

  She gasped in shock! Why was this noble in her home? She did not understand! Seeing her confusion he continued.

  “I have been on a search for a bride for more than a year now but did nae find anyone who would suit...until now. William spoke of meeting ye and thought we might be a good match. I te
nd ta agree with him.” He dropped to his knee beside her, taking her trembling work-worn hand in his. “I would be verra pleased if ye would consider sharing your life with me as my wife.”

  She certainly was trembling, but not with desire or anticipation but with rage! How dare he lie to her then expect her to fall gratefully at his feet! Withdrawing her hand, she pulled back and slapped him as hard as she could.

  “Get out!” she screamed. “Ye are just like all the rest! Get out of my house...get out of my life! I do nae need your proposal of pity so that ye may control me and beat me at your whim!”

  “I would never do such a thing!” he protested. “Ye should have learned that much about me in the few fortnights I have spent here!” But she could not see reason through the stabbing pain of betrayal striking her heart. She had begun to trust him, fool that she was.

  “Maither! Connor! I can nae find Mary!” Michael gasped for air as he skidded to a halt in front of them casting uncertain looks their way. He had heard them yelling at each other.

  "Did ye check all of her favorite hiding places?"

  "Aye! I have searched everywhere, Maither. I do nae ken where else ta look!"

  Connor knelt before him placing his hands on Michael's thin shoulders. Peering into his watery eyes, he queried, "Think hard, laddie. When did ye see her last?"

  He sniffled as he wiped his face with his sleeve. "It was nigh onto an hour ago when she came ta tell me that...that...Maither would nae have ye ta husband. She was verra upset about it."

  "Did she say anything...anything at all that might tell us where she's gone?"

  Michael thought about it for several moments then his face lit up. "She said she would find some mistletoe so Maither would have ta kiss ye under it! Then ye would be betrothed and she would have ta wed ye!"

  Connor grunted. "Saddle my horse, lad, I will be out shortly." His emerald eyes met hers. It was getting dark. He had to find her before the chill night set in...and the wolves came out. Meghan rushed to retrieve her cloak. "Ye can nae come with me, Meghan."

  "She is my daughter. I must go and find her! She needs me."

  "Nay! Ye will slow me down, lass, and speed is most urgent right now. Find a warm blanket and point me in the direction ye think she may go ta find mistletoe."

  He was right. She knew that, but it did not make it any easier to trust her bairn's safety to this man. She swallowed her fears because she had to as she handed him a tartan. He wrapped his arms about her tightly when a sob escaped her. Kissing the top of her head he vowed, "I will bring Mary home safely, Meghan...do nae fear."

  She nodded against his chest while attempting to get her emotions under control. "Thank ye, Connor. Ye should look ta the north for a small glen. The plant grows on some trees there. Mary kens this place, as well."

  With one more hug for reassurance, he departed.

  The snowfall had resumed a short time before gloaming, effectively covering any tracks that the lass had left. Connor shivered in his fur-lined cloak. The air grows chilled. Wee Mary must be freezing by now. He shook his head. What strange thoughts the wee lassie comes up with! Does she truly believe that kissing beneath the mistletoe would make them betrothed? Mayhap that was true once but it was many years ago.

  A low growl put him on alert. As he drew near the glen where Mary should be, he dismounted, unsheathing his sword. The growling grew louder. His heart was in his throat as he crept to the edge of the glen...fearing what he might find there.

  He breathed a deep sigh of relief at the sight before him. There sat a shivering Mary, perched on a tree branch, pelting four grey wolves circling beneath her with twigs and pine cones. A grin crossed his lips. From the amount of projectiles on the ground, she must have been at it for some time. Smart lass! Her maither has taught her well.

  "Ye seem ta have a wee problem, lass." The wolves' attention was instantly diverted to him.

  Her face beamed as she answered. "Nay, Master Connor, I be fine. Ye are the one with a problem...since ye are where they can reach ye."

  He laughed as he kept his eye on the canines, readying himself for the assault to come. He did not have to wait long. Connor swung his sword in a wide arc as the first one lunged at him, followed swiftly by a second. They yelped in pain as the steel connected with their bodies, instantly killing the first and crippling the second. The third snarled at him before slinking off into the woods with the remaining wolf. After reassuring himself that they were gone, he held out his arms for Mary. She shook her head and began climbing higher.

  "What are ye doing, lass? Ye must be chilled. Your maither has sent me ta fetch ye home so cease your foolishness and come along."

  "Tis nae foolish!" she insisted. Mary's eyes widened as a thought struck her. "Ye do like Maither...do nae ye?"

  "Of course I do! But—"

  "Then we need the mistletoe ta make her wed with ye. Twill only take a few minutes." She climbed to the next branch.

  "Tis nae proper for a lass ta be climbing trees," he growled.

  She looked back at him. "But if I had nae been in the tree the wolves would have eaten me! I would rather be improper than eaten!"

  Connor chuckled at her logic. I should ken better than ta argue with a lass...especially a young one. Throwing his hands up in defeat, he waited for her to finish her task.

  "I have it!" she shouted in glee. "Now ye will be my Da!" He shook his head as he helped her from the tree and bundled her in the warm tartan. The poor lass was doomed to be disappointed. Meghan had already turned him down. He must try to explain it to her on the way home.

  He never got the chance though. She had snuggled close to his chest and fallen fast asleep...clutching her prize...within moments. Connor kissed her wee brow as emotion filled his heart. He was going to miss them all once he left. He had come to think of them as his family these past few sennights.

  "Ahh, lassie, I think I will be missing ye most of all." His eyes misted for a moment before he shook it off.

  Meghan paced the length of the hut anxiously as the hour grew late. She had tried to keep herself busy by anticipating what healing Mary may need once she was home. The water was heated, tea was brewing and fresh bandages were nearby...just in case. She wrung her hands as she traversed the small space again. Connor entered the hut a few moments later with his precious bundle. Meghan bit her fist as she feared the worst.

  "Is she—"

  "She is well, Meghan, only sleeping." Tears of relief filled her eyes as Connor took a seat near the hearth to warm themselves. "Ye should be proud of her. Wolves had her treed and instead of crying...she attacked them with everything she could lay hands to." He chuckled. "Twas quite a site ta see."

  "I thank ye for your aide, my lord." His brow arched at the formality. A short while later, after Mary was taken to bed, he spoke.

  "I will be taking my leave in the morn. I ken that I be nae welcome here any longer unless...ye have changed your mind."

  Meg was stunned at his announcement. She had not considered that he would depart so soon. She licked her dry lips and nodded. What else was there to say? "The children will be disappointed that ye did nae stay for Christmas Tide and first-footing."

  He growled. Connor felt bad enough about leaving before the holidays. There was no need to rub salt in the wound!

  "It can nae be helped. My presence was the cause of this day's mishap. I will nae endure a repeat. Good eve, my lady." He gave her a curt nod then left.

  The mere thought of leaving twisted his heart. He wanted Meghan for his bride but she had refused. He did not know what else to do. He knew that she cared for him because of the kiss they had shared. Why can she nae take a chance?

  He rode out before the dawn.

  "Maither!" she screamed. "Maither! Where is my new da?"

  Meghan bolted up from the bed. Surely he did not leave without saying goodbye. Her eyes darted to her daughter. Her new what?

  "What new da? Ye have nae new da! Did Connor make promises ta ye Mary?"

&
nbsp; She glanced up guiltily. "Nay Maither. But I brought the mistletoe. All ye had ta do is kiss him. Did ye nae want ta kiss him?"

  Meghan sputtered. "What do ye ken of kissing, lass? Ye are just a bairn." There was a growing ache in her heart as the realization that she made a mistake with Connor materialized. She did trust him. Her heart knew that he was not like her husband. Lord, what has she done?

  Tears were streaming down Mary's wee cheeks. "I ken that he kissed me last night because he loves me. He does nae kiss someone unless he does. Do ye nae ken that, Maither?"

  Meghan squeezed her eyes tight to stop the threatening tears. When had her daughter become smarter than her?

  Chapter Five

  It took Connor five days to return to King William’s court through the winter snows. During that time he considered where he may have gone wrong in wooing Meghan.

  Mayhap I rushed her...I do nae ken. I tried ta be honest with her but it was nae enough. The children accepted me...why nae her? It took all of his willpower to stop himself from turning back. His heart growing heavier with every step his mount took away from the woman he desired.

  “Cousin! Have ye come for your betrothal papers?” William’s voice boomed across the chambers.

  Connor shook his head morosely. He was in no mood for good cheer. He had failed to acquire what he most wanted and felt the need to get lost in his cups...if he were a drinking man...which he was not. He sought someone to commiserate with. Clearly, William was not the man.

  The king peered intently at his cousin and decided that a private audience was required. He looked terrible.

  “Come ta my chambers, Connor. We will speak there.”

  A short while later, William had heard the entire tale. Rubbing his chin, he tried to figure out a solution for his besotted cousin.

  “She is a stubborn lass. I warned ye of that. Are ye certain that she wished ye ta leave?”