Page 2 of Highlander’s Forbidden Fruit

The day she had decided to run away, she had written a detailed note to her father explaining where she had gone and why. She placed that on top of her pillow for the maids to find in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Da, but ye left me no choice.”

Adjusting the satchel across her now diminished chest, she sent up a prayer and gently opened her bedroom door. Heart beating against her chest she tiptoed down the hall, making sure to avoid the creaking step halfway down the stairs.

During the day the castle was a cheerful place. High, narrow window alcoves bathed the hall in natural light and brought out the different hues of the many tapestries that hung there. Now, in the dead of night, with nary a candle to light her way, the same beloved castle was a dark, brooding place that hid shadows and potential discovery at each corner.

Throat suddenly dry, Evanna swallowed and covered the distance as quickly and quietly as she could. The annex door loomed like the door to the Otherworld with fairies and fauns waiting for her in the dark.

Evanna hesitated a moment then sprinted lightly down the annex. It was a short distance to the church, and the annex had been built to ensure safe, dry passage to and from the church in case of rain or storms. It was also discreet. Many Lairds had used the annex to smuggle in healers when they were trying to hide embarrassing ailments, or as places to discuss secret plots and exchange treasonous information.

There were no ornaments or decorative hangings here. People hardly noticed anything about the annex as they rushed through it as Evanna did now. She only slowed down when she reached the entrance to the church.

Lit candles in front of the altar shed a little light in the gloom. Evanna peered in to make sure no one was there. Her eyes landed on the large cross hanging at the far wall and guilt stabbed at her again. She was unruly, spoiled, uncouth, and unrefined, but she was still God-fearing.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she mumbled under her breath as she crept forward.

A loud creak made her jump out of her skin. She scuttled back into the shadows of the annex. The church door opened. Moonlight spread on the floor like spilled milk. A large looming shadow stood in the doorway.

Evanna watched with bated breath as the tall, broad figure walked into the church, went right up to the altar, and knelt.

“O my God.” The person began to pray and Evanna gasped as she recognized the voice. “I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee. And I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell. But most of all because they have offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love.”

Aleck Bryce knelt and recited the Act of Contrition. Evanna watched as he prayed, his dark hair hiding his face. What sin could Aleck be asking forgiveness for?

Dear God, I pray whatever his sins may be, he is granted some peace. My God kens he has nae left me with any, Evanna thought with some bitterness.

Evanna fought back hot tears and considered her hands in the dimness of the passage.

Three years ago, when Clara had visited last, a troop of traveling performers had come to stay in Glenlivet. They had jugglers, fire eaters, and bears, but the gypsy woman had captured their imaginations.

She had been unlike anything Evanna had imagined. For one, she was young and beautiful. Her dark eyes flashed and danced as she spoke. The clothes she wore were conservative and there was nary a bead on her person. Finally, face-to-face with the gypsy, Clara had been too afraid to proffer her hand for a reading, but Evanna, in true MacLeod fashion, had thrown caution to the wind and extended her hand.

Immense wealth, honorable family… the reading had started by pointing out the obvious. Evanna was beginning to fear fraud when the gypsy frowned and traced a line on Evanna’s hand. Evanna had shivered as if a cold finger had slid down her spine.

“I see a great journey, many adventures. But - I also see great tragedy and heartache.” The gypsy had smiled apologetically and gently tucked Evanna’s fingers over her palm. “He who you desire will never be yours.”

Evanna MacLeod watched Aleck Bryce with longing. Truth be told she wasn’t running to London, as much as she was running away from Glenlivet. And Aleck Bryce was the reason for it.

Aleck was the son of Callum Bryce, Laird Julius MacLeod’s most trusted noble, and his right-hand man. When Callum Bryce had died from a gangrenous wound sustained when protecting the castle from raiders, he had bestowed his second son Aleck, only thirteen at the time, to the Laird as a sworn sword. Aleck had been part of the household ever since and Evanna’s heart’s desire.

Tall, dark, and brooding, Aleck had never had a way with words, but Evanna had been smitten at first sight. She was his shadow; following him wherever he went, eating from the same bowl, and insisting on training with him as well. She would have slept in the same bed too if her governess hadn’t complained to the Laird.

Aleck Bryce had been the love of her short life. Her whole day was planned around him: when to wake up, when to train, when to ride, when to eat. She would spend hours in the courtyard watching him train with a broadsword, musket, and flintlocks. Her heart would skip a beat as she observed sunlight glisten off his sweating skin, the muscles rippling like taut waves underneath. His broad back narrowed down to compact hips and extended to long legs. Evanna worshipped him.

And what did she get in return? Cold indifference. It was like she didn’t exist for him, or if she did, she was no more than an annoying fly buzzing around a great horse’s mane.

Now here he was, bent on his knees. Part of her wanted to go to him, tuck his dark hair behind his ears and kiss his brow smooth of all worry. She wanted to just imagine his limpid green eyes widening in shock. But she couldn’t. Aleck Bryce didn’t want her. He had made that quite plain.

Shaking the distracting thoughts out of her head, she considered what to do. Here she was running away, and who should come in her path but the very man who she was running away from. Evanna began to pray.

Dear God, I ken I have nae been regular with my prayers, she muttered under her breath. Please forgive me and let me go to London. I will bring ye a golden cross for the altar when I return. Please, God!

Father Gilmore would be horrified if he knew she was bribing God, but she was out of ideas.

Speaking of Father Gilmore! As if her thoughts had conjured the man, he came gliding through the back chambers, head bent and brooding.

“Aleck?” he said. “Are ye alright, son?”