A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) (28 page)

“Will ye tell me now, Da?”

“Nay, I will this night when I come to say goodnight. Go and ready for supper, lass.”

Ermintrude ran out as soon as her feet touched the flooring. Frances grinned after her.

“Frances …” He watched her from a few feet away and she stepped before him.

“Aye?
What is it?”

“I meant what I said. I do love you. From this day forward, we’ll have no danger in our lives and we’ll be able to live as a family should.” He set his forehead against her shoulder and seemed to shake.

Frances smoothed a hand over his hair and breathed his scent in. “I believe you, Sean. I am glad, because we’ve had enough peril to last a lifetime.”

EPILOGUE

Saint Swithin Day

Gunn land, Scotland

July 1224

The celebration was in full swing as all those within the Gunn clan came to celebrate Saint
Swithin’s Day. It was said that if the old saint’s bones were left alone, it’d be fair and sunny, and if he were moved or bothered, it would rain buckets.

Frances sat back and watched Sean’s clansmen and women with affection for they’d been so kind and welcoming since she arrived.

Never had she seen such generosity or caring by so many. She now knew why he missed being there with them. Not only were the people loving, but the land was enchanting. The Highlands held such beauty and she’d forever keep the place in her heart.

They’d just returned from the daylong trek and made it back in time for the feast of the Saint. Sean had taken her to the sea where they’d spent the day swimming, and he’d told her of his voyages aboard the boats, and of the trading missions. How she envied him the adventures.

Ermintrude sat with the children, and Sunny, Grey and Bree’s eldest daughter, was teaching them a song. They sang:

‘Saint Swithin’s day if thou does rain, for forty days it will remain. Saint Swithin’s day if thou be fair, for forty days twill rain no more.’

Her daughter’s gleeful laughter lightened her heart. Alvin sat beside her, and wouldn’t leave her side. Sean had become his champion and Alvin spoke more oft and didn’t mistrust them any longer. He’d pledged to become Trudy’s champion and vowed to protect his sister. The gesture filled Frances’ heart with love.

Sean sat on the other side of her, and the rest of the
Gunns with their families took up the rest of the space around the large table that had been set up outside.

“Aye this day is special to me and Bree. It was the day of our first
betrothal, remember that day, my love?” Grey raised his cup. “Even though that day bore such heartache, I shall always remember it.”

They shared the story of how Bree had gone missing and what came to follow. Frances was charmed by the story, and it was obvious the Gunn laird loved his wife. His children, Greer and Grace, were now running alongside the other children, and James remarked how he’d have to keep an eye on them for they were wont to be everywhere at once.

Frances was so lulled by the sweet music played by some of the clansmen and the food that she’d eaten. She relaxed back against Sean’s chest, who set an arm around her waist.

“I’ve my own announcement. Frances and I … should we tell them?”

She laughed and nodded. “You have to now. I vow they won’t let you get away until you do. Look at their glares.”

“What news
have you?” Kenneth asked. He sat beside his wife, Elisa, a beautiful woman who held a bairn in her arms. Michael looked akin to his father, with the same hair and eyes. He was a handsome bairn.

Frances liked the woman as soon as she’d met
her, for she was certain Sean bore no romantic feelings for Elisa. Nor she him.

“We’ll be adding to our clan come next spring,” Sean said.

Everyone toasted their news.

Duff finally joined them, along with his wife,
Kait. The small bairn she held wailed and seemed as dubious as his father. Frances smirked at her thought. Ranald continued to fuss until his burly father took him from his mother.

“Laird, I have a missive for you. The king’s messenger just delivered it.” Gordy set it in front of Grey.

“My thanks. Being you’re now commanding the keep’s guard, Gordy, I expect you’ll give me a report on the hour.” Grey frowned sternly at the young soldier.

“Aye, Laird.
Nothing to report. I will return,” he said, and hastened away.

All watched as Grey opened and read the parchment.

“Ah, Christ Almighty, you see that look, aye?” Sean said to her. “I’ve only seen that look a few times. Something is bothering him. What does it say, Grey?”

At that moment Colm interjected.
“Seems you’re not the only one who has news to share. I’ll be a father, Sean, come next spring too.”

Sean laughed and shoved Colm from across the table. “Oh? Kelsi, you let him in the bedchamber with you?”

She smiled and said, “I do on occasion.”

Frances loved their banter, but she was concerned about the missive. Grey didn’t look appeased by whatever news was given.

“Are ye going to tell us soon or are you going to keep it to yourself?” Sean nudged Grey.

“I’ve news from Alexander. He bids us be his emissary and travel to Wales. We’re to aid his comrade, the Iorwerth chieftain.”

Sean leaned forward, and Frances could see the look of concern on his face. “Aid how?”

Grey gripped the missive and then scrunched it until it was made into a ball. He then tossed it into the fire. “Never
ye mind. I say we disregard it. Alexander is afar from here and he’d not know if we even went or not.”

“You jest, Grey. He’ll know. What aid do the Iorwerths need?”

“Alexander says his comrade’s clan was set upon at a peacekeeping meeting betwixt his and King Henry’s men. Over forty of his men were killed, when there wasn’t supposed to be weapons brought. Alexander bid us to go and add to his soldiers.”

“Does he only seek our aid or other Highland clans?”

“His missive doesn’t say, but I suspect only ours. If the king only demands our aid that is telling. I will speak of this with Donal Ross and gain his insight. He’ll know what’s going on.”

“What makes you think
Donal will know? He hasn’t been to a council meeting in a few years and I doubt he’s seen Alexander.”

Grey pressed the back of his neck with his fingers, and appeared agitated. “
Donal’s been my champion since I was a lad and I trust his opinion. He always knows what’s going on. I will seek his guidance.”

Sean sat
back, he’d taken his cup and set about finishing his drink. Frances felt the tension of his body next to hers. She didn’t like hearing what Grey alluded to.

If that meant what she thought it meant, then their men would be sent to war.

*Author’s Note*

In my quest to enrich my stories, I’m always searching the web and books for a bit of history to add. The Fox and the Goose story was found on
ElectricScotland.com
and is indeed a Scottish children’s story.

As for the song sang by Mistress Ina, I came across the story of Finn Mac Cool and the ballad 'Am
Bròn Binn' on
EducationScotland.gov.uk

And so we end this story where we began, on Saint
Swithin Day in One & Only. Don’t miss In Love With A Warrior, Book #4 in the Gunn Guardsman series (James and Emlyn’s story) which takes place in Wales. I’m finding the land and history of Wales to be as enchanting as Scotland’s. It very well may be more magical.

Happy historical reading.

Fondly,

Kara Griffin

Coming Soon

IN LOVE WITH A WARRIOR

Here’s a sneak peak:

Besotted by the Princess

James Gunn knew his heart would forever be hers when she bested him in combat. Never had he met a formidable foe such as Emlyn. Mayhap it was the way her body felt above his when she pinned him and he had no choice to submit to her…

A love coveted but forbidden

Princess Emlyn would allow no man to victor over her on the field, especially the arrogant, sexy highlander. It’d do well for him to know she wouldn’t fall at his feet and worship him. Aye, he was God-like in his appearance, strong, capable, and a protector: all the things she said she didn’t want in a man. She could be wrong.

All it took was one kiss

Neither could deny their attraction. When Emlyn is betrothed to her clan’s enemy to save her people from being besieged, she beseeches James for help. The only way she can escape her ill-fated destiny and have the man of her dreams is to wage war and triumph. Not so easy a feat for a warrior such as her.

Excerpt to follow.

~ Exclusive Advanced Reader Copy Excerpt ~

PROLOGUE

Pont Mynach, Gwynedd, Wales

May 1224

The peacekeeping gathering was set to take place on the eve of Beltane of all nights. Were they home, they’d be celebrating the spring festival, drinking, and wreaking havoc, and likely fornicating with the lassies in honor of fertility rituals. Aye, he could see them now: being merry, dancing, wearing their horse masks in in tribute to Rhiannon, the Goddess of fertility, and in honor of the rites of spring. But they were not home.

Bevan stood amongst his comrades, knowing this would not turn out as his lord, Llywelyn, predicted. Being the leader on this hopeless mission, Bevan tried to raise the spirits of his comrades. For this night, they’d die. They all knew the outcome.

There were too many combatants and they’d be overtaken. Many of the men of the Iorwerth clan left their weapons far a field for none would be so disrespectful to bring them to the meeting. He regretted following orders and leaving their weapons behind. He should’ve known the English wouldn’t obey their accord.

Within the stone circle, on the sacred ground, they’d come to an agreement.

The English supporters waited outside the circle but would not enter for they were leery and superstitious. For once their pagan customs and rituals aided them in a way they’d never considered.

From his position within the circle, Bevan could see the gleam from their swords, shields, and axes. Unarmed, outmanned, and in a quandary, they would have to meet their fate with bravery.
Alas, they stood inside the stone circle with moments to live for the berserkers waited for the moment to attack.

Bevan didn’t want to displease the gods by allowing such an atrocity to take place within the sacred monument. He had to come up with a plan to either thwart the enemy or have the fracas moved to another location, outside the stone circle. The only problem with that was they couldn’t get through the wall of Englishmen encircling their sanctuary.

With all the passion of his ancestors and the heart of a warrior, he raised his fist and yelled their call to arms. Even though not one had a weapon to use against their adversaries, they’d go into the fray and would hope for the best.

Sadly, that was not to be, as each of his comrades ran from the stone circle, through the wall of their shielded opponents. Most were cut down before they could make it through two men. Bevan ran with four of his closest comrades, and lost sight of them when the clash of steel against their chainmail reached his ears and rang true.

Victory was on the side of the English this night.

He was hit from behind with a hard object and fell to his knees. Bevan watched as the leader of their foes marched toward him. The man gripped his tunic with both hands and raised him to his feet. Beside him stood Gareth, the man Llewellyn banished months ago for his treason against their clan.

“Is this he?” their leader asked Gareth.

“Aye, ‘tis.”
Gareth stood with a smirk on his face.

“He is betrothed to the warrior princess?”

“Aye, he is. Won’t be for long, my lord, will he?” Gareth snickered, and kicked the side of his leg, causing him to buckle.

Bevan tried to dislodge himself from the leader’s hold because no matter what happened to him this night, he wanted to kill the traitor.

It had been rumored that Gareth led their men into an ambush and most were killed. It could not be proved, and taking no risk, Llywelyn had him removed from their land, banished and never to return. Bevan now knew the truth.

“And ye say this warrior princess fights with the men? That she is skilled and can best a man? Oh that she will be mine.” The leader dislodged one of his hands and shook him. “Ye hear that? Your warrior woman will share my bed and I will be pleased by the sport.” He laughed maniacally and then thrust his dagger into Bevan’s chest and shoved him.

He fell back and hit the ground. As he lay looking up at the night sky, covered with his own blood, Bevan’s last thought was that of his beloved and the danger she was in.

Emlyn.