The Thistle and the Rose Page 34

  As Colin recited his oath of loyalty to the new king, Kit raised his arms to the two kneeling before him. With a laugh the queen stood and picked up the child, placing him in Celia's arms. Celia wept, no longer able to restrain the emotions that were overflowing within her, and Colin gathered the two in his arms, whispering his words of love. After the momentary embrace, Celia stood and placed the smiling Kit back in his mother's arms.

  “You are expected to remain close to us,” the queen whispered quietly.

  Walking back past the nods of approval from the rest of the Scottish nobility, Celia thought with a smile of how wonderful it would be to watch the young king grow up healthy and strong.

  “How do you feel?” Colin asked in a low voice.

  “I'm fine, my love,” she responded, looking up into his loving eyes. Her hand gently patted her waistline. “Do you think our son will be as good a bairn as Kit is?”

  “Son or daughter,” Colin smiled. “With you for a mother, ours will be the smartest, the most beautiful, and the best bairn in all the world.”

  “You do not think he'll be a wild little terror?” Celia laughed.

  “If she's lucky enough to be like her mother,” Colin quipped, “she'll conquer the world.”

  Celia thought of how full the coming Christmas would be with the birth of their first child. The thought of having a bairn was downright scary, but Agnes's and Lord Hugh's excitement at hearing the news assured her that she'd have more help than she could possibly imagine.

  Indeed, everyone was delighted at their happiness. Father William, settling in comfortably with his flock to tend and his pupils to teach, said cantankerously that he had learned from his mistakes. He was going to go to extra lengths to see that the bairn would turn out better than his disrespectful parents. Although Edmund was returning home to begin a renovation of the ancient Bruce holdings, he was going with the promise of returning to the Western Isles before Christmas. Ellen and Runt had also found marital bliss, and before Colin and Celia had left for the coronation, Ellen had mentioned happily that Celia's bairn might just have a companion growing up.

  Everyone was delighted. Celia cast a loving glance up at the rugged face looking at her with such warmth and affection.

  “I'm ready to go home,” she whispered, hugging his arm close to her. “I do not want to miss a moment of this summer at Kildalton.”

  “Aye,” he returned. “We can travel tomorrow; you've had enough excitement today.”

  “The roses will be in full bloom by the time we get back,” she said cheerfully.

  “And that garden will be the perfect place for you to spend the summer,” Colin responded.

  “Of course! For part of the day,” she exclaimed. “And there's so much to do before the bairn comes...the people in the Argyll lands need so much...and those poor unfortunates who haven't a home to go back to. We need to help them rebuild. And the—”

  “Celia, you're not going to exhaust yourself this summer,” Colin growled, his threatening look belied by the sparkle in his eyes. “You're going to rest, and stay strong while our bairn grows inside you.”

  “Of course, Colin,” she said, pretending to ignore him. “And we need to build schools in the larger villages, so that all the children will have the chance to—”

  “Well, that's just typical,” a familiar voice rang out from behind them. “The culmination of all you two have worked at, in your own ways, since last autumn, and you have to talk about the work you need to be doing.”

  “Alec,” Celia scolded, smiling. “Life is not just one big festival, you know.”

  “Aye,” Colin added with a wink at Celia. “A couple of decisive victories, a few more acres of land added to the family fortune, and Alec thinks he can rest on his laurels for the rest of his life.”

  Actually, Alec's and Colin's military exploits had earned them both fame and rank. And at every gathering, Alec was enjoying his role as the object of attention of every unmarried Scottish woman in attendance.

  “Now, if you two...or rather, you three...are going to gang up on me...” Alec grinned, his face becoming sober for a moment. “Truly, though, after you left last night, I had a serious moment thinking of you and all the wonderful things that marriage might hold.”

  “Really,” Celia exclaimed. “I'm surprised. And was there a particular woman in any of these wonderful thoughts?”

  “As a matter of fact, there wasn't,” Alec responded seriously, his face breaking into a broad smile again. “No wonder I was able to get over it so quickly!”

  “You'd best not even try to match Alec up in marriage, Celia.” Colin laughed. “He just doesn't have the good sense of some of his friends...or the good luck.”

  “You know,” Alec said, his tone becoming humorously contentious. “I've been meaning to talk to you about the fact that I saw Celia first.”

  “Aye,” Colin retorted. “Over the blade of her knife.”

  “Now, boys,” Celia interjected with a smile. “I believe there are laws about fighting on Coronation Day.”

  “Aye,” Colin responded. “It's a required activity late in the afternoon.”

  “Depending on how quickly and how much a person can consume this good Edinburgh ale,” Alec added as they all laughed.

  “Well, I'll not be drinking any ale until Christmas,” Celia declared with a firm nod of her head.

  “You do not think a little ale will hurt my godson, do you?” Alec asked.

  “In the Orient, they say the unborn child should get no alcoholic beverages,” she informed him. “And you, above all people, the man who can now enjoy sailing, should appreciate their medical knowledge.”

  “Aye,” Alec agreed seriously. “In fact, I may just give it up myself until the bairn comes.”

  Seeing the scoffing looks of his two friends, Alec beamed broadly. “Well, perhaps until dinner, anyway.” He laughed.

  Outside the castle walls, Celia and Colin walked in the sun among the revelers in the carnival-like atmosphere that had taken hold of Edinburgh. As they wound their way from the castle along the Royal Mile to the Abbey of Holyrood, they admired the new buildings, so brightly painted and decorated for the grand occasion. The main street and the closes running off of it were alive with jugglers, minstrels, clowns, and dancers; and the air was filled with music and laughter, with shouts and cheers.

  Life, indeed, was beginning again, and with her arm linked in Colin's, Celia walked among her people with joy in her heart.

  Epilogue

  In 1566 Mary, Queen of Scots, daughter of James V, gave birth to another James. And in 1603 this James VI of Scotland succeeded Henry VIII's daughter Elizabeth, last of the Tudor monarchs, and became King of England and Scotland, thereby uniting British rule under the banner of the Stewart kings.

  The 'May McGoldrick Family Tree' Book Information

  Our 16th Century books...

  In The Thistle and the Rose, Colin Campbell and Celia Muir are introduced...

  And we also introduce Alec Macpherson, who is the hero of our second book, Angel of Skye...

  Alec has two brothers, Ambrose and John, who are the heroes of Heart of Gold and The Beauty of the Mist, respectively...

  In Angel of Skye, we also introduce a little boy, Malcolm MacLeod, and in Heart of Gold we introduce a little girl, Jaime...

  When Malcolm MacLeod and Jaime grow up, they are the hero and heroine of The Intended...

  In Heart of Gold, we also introduce Gavin Kerr, who becomes the hero of Flame...

  In Flame, we introduce a number of characters who show up in The Dreamer, The Enchantress, and The Firebrand (the Highland Treasure Trilogy), including John Stewart, the earl of Athol and a number of villains...

  The Highland Treasure Trilogy is the story of three sisters...Catherine Percy of The Dreamer, Laura Percy of The Enchantress, and Adrianne Percy of The Firebrand...

  In The Enchantress, we introduce Sir Wyntoun MacLean, who also appears in The Firebrand...

  In Th
e Firebrand, we also introduce Gillie the Fairie-Borne, who may just have a story of his own one day...

  Colin Campbell and Celia (from The Thistle and the Rose) also make a 'cameo' appearance in The Firebrand...

  Alec Macpherson and Fiona (from Angel of Skye) have three sons. The youngest, Colin Macpherson, is the hero of Tess and the Highlander (a young adult novel published by HarperCollins in November 2002)...

  Our 18th Century Books

  In The Promise, Samuel Wakefield, the earl of Stanmore, and Rebecca Neville/Ford are the hero and heroine...

  In that book we also introduce Stanmore's friend, Sir Nicholas Spencer, who becomes the hero of The Rebel, which is set in Ireland...

  Stanmore and Rebecca also appear in The Rebel...

  In The Promise, we also introduce Rebecca's friend, Millicent Wentworth, who becomes the heroine of Borrowed Dreams...

  Borrowed Dreams is the start of a new trilogy about three Scottish brothers, starting with Lyon Pennington, earl of Aytoun. We also meet a new cast of characters who show up in the trilogy. Violet, from The Promise, plays a big role in this book, too. She will show up again in the third book in the trilogy, Dreams of Destiny.

  In Captured Dreams, we see Lyon and Millicent and the entire household of Baronsford in Scotland, along with wonderful heroes and villains that David Pennington meets in colonial Boston.

  In Dreams of Destiny, the mystery of Emma's death is solved...

  Ghost of the Thames…a Dickensian novel.

  Visit us at www.JanCoffey.com and on May McGoldrick, facebook page for discount offers of our other ebooks.

  About the Author

  Nikoo & Jim McGoldrick have spent their lives gathering material for their novels. Nikoo, a mechanical engineer, and Jim, who has a Ph.D. in sixteenth-century British literature, wrote their first May McGoldrick novel in 1994. Since then, they have taken their readers from the Highlands of Scotland to the mountains of Kurdistan in bestselling, award-winning historical romance and contemporary suspense novels under the names May McGoldrick, Nicole Cody, and Jan Coffey.

  You can contact us at JanCoffey@JanCoffey.com

  Please like May McGoldrick author page on facebook to receive the latest updates.

  Complete Book List as of 2012

  Writing As May McGoldrick:

  Made In Heaven

  Ghost of the Thames

  Scottish Dream Trilogy

  Dreams Of Destiny

  Captured Dreams

  Borrowed Dreams

  The Rebel

  Tess and The Highlander (A YA Novel)

  The Promise

  Highland Treasure Trilogy

  The Firebrand

  The Enchantress

  The Dreamer

  Flame

  The Intended

  Macpherson Trilogy

  Beauty Of The Mist

  Heart Of Gold

  Angel Of Skye

  Thistle and The Rose

  Writing As Nicole Cody & May McGoldrick:

  Love and Mayhem (reissued as Arsenic and Old Armor)

  Writing As Jan Coffey:

  Aquarian (A YA Novel)

  Blind Eye

  The Puppet Master

  The Deadliest Strain

  The Project

  Silent Waters

  Five in a Row

  Tropical Kiss (A YA Novel)

  Fourth Victim

  Triple Threat

  Twice Burned

  Trust Me Once

  Here's an excerpt from Angel of Skye by May McGoldrick

  Angel of Skye

  Prologue

  Drummond Castle, October 1502

  His ice-blue eyes locked on the castle looming in the gathering dusk.

  Silent as death, he and his company of killers climbed the ridge toward the open drawbridge. Andrew would get back what was his. He would have his revenge.

  Fiona bounced across the wood floor at the sound of horses thundering across the drawbridge. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched her five year old body, inching her dimpled chin up onto the stone ledge surrounding the small window in her effort to peer out into the dusky light at the approaching riders. From the unglazed slit in the castle wall, the misty autumn wind swept damply through her fire red hair. She could not see the riders, but she could hear their steel armor clanging as they rode into the castle’s inner yard.

  Her Father was coming for her.

  “May I please go down, Nanna?” she asked for the umpteenth time. “Please, Nanna?”

  “You know what your mama said, child,” the old woman responded, smiling at the irrepressible excitement of the little girl. This was a big day for her. This was a big day for them all.

  Fiona skipped from the window and picked up her little stool from beside the fireplace, carrying it quickly to the high window and scampering onto it. As she pressed her face into the opening, a gust of Scottish night air filled her with a thrill of anticipation.

  But her mother had given strict orders that she was to remain in her room until she was called for.

  He must be very important, the little girl thought excitedly, trying to pick him out from among the horsemen in the courtyard. In the flaring torchlight she could see the varied array of tartans on the company of men dismounting below.

  Though Fiona could not even recall when exactly she had last seen her father, she tried hard to remember, as her eyes scanned the sea of men below, what he looked like. She had been very little the last time. But there were things about him that she could still recollect, vaguely. His deep and easy laugh. His soft red beard. The strange, belt-like chain that she could feel under his shirt. Her mother had told Fiona that her father always wore that, but she had never said why.

  “Your papa is a busy man, Fiona,” her mother had said the times she’d asked for him. All her life Fiona had been hearing talk of fights with the filthy English who were trying to take Scottish lands. And all her life she’d been hearing her mother tell her how papa had to help. How it was his job to help keep their homes and their country safe.

  But now he was coming to them--making a special visit--to take her and her mother and Nanna back to his own castle. To be with him.

  For the past week Fiona had been shadowing Nanna as she went about her chores. The little girl had tried extra hard to be more of a help than a hindrance. After all, she had so many questions about the upcoming visit, and Nanna was the only one who would even talk to her about it.

  Fiona wished she could remember more.

  For as long as the little girl could recall, no one would ever talk to her about her father. There were moments when her mother would allow Fiona a glimpse of those times when he had been near. And it was during those talks that Fiona would hear about his humor, his courage, about the kind of man he was. But then her mother would never answer her other questions about him, so he remained an enigma.

  Sometimes Fiona wondered if her father still loved her. She wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him. Sometimes she even dreamed of him. When she did, he was like an angel, floating far above—away from her—but watching over her. She could see him, his red hair and beard streaming around him as if blown by a gentle breeze.

  And now everyone kept telling Fiona not to disturb her mother.

  The little girl knew that her mother was not her usual self. She had been very quiet for the past few days and spent many hours alone in her room. Fiona heard her crying. Nanna said that her mother was just having a hard time believing that what she had wished for, for so long, was finally coming true. But Fiona knew it had to be something else.

  During their time together Nanna had told her that, for reasons beyond their control, Fiona’s parents could not be married up until now, but that their love had finally triumphed.

  At last, her father had told his people that Fiona was his daughter, and that he and her mother were going to be married. Fiona was not really sure what being married meant, but she knew it had to be something very special. After all,
she was going to have a permanent father now. But even more importantly, she knew that it meant her mother would never have to be sad again. Nanna had told her that.

  Fiona began to count the torches that were being lit in the courtyard. She knew her father would have warriors with him. Nanna had said Fiona’s father had many who attended him.

  “Fiona, come here so I can braid that wild hair of yours,” Nanna scolded gently, smiling patiently at the excited child. The room was warm and comfortable, and the old woman felt at peace with the world.

  The little girl reluctantly turned from her place at the window. Hopping off the stool, she ran across the room, flinging herself affectionately onto the woman’s lap. Nanna put her arm around the child, returning her warm embrace.

  Nanna had raised the girl’s mother, just as she was now helping to raise Fiona. They were so different, mother and daughter, and yet so much the same. Margaret had always been the proper child, always reserved, always private. But Fiona was different. Nothing was held in. Nothing was hidden. One thing Nanna knew they had in common, though: they both had such incredible depths to their love.

  Fiona squirmed in her lap, breaking into the woman’s reverie. Nanna picked up the brush and began to run it through the silky softness of the little girl’s hair.

  “Nanna, is my hair really the same color as papa’s?” she asked, turning her bright eyes on the woman.

  “Aye, child. That it is.”

  “And my eyes, Nanna?”

  “Nay, child. You have your mama’s hazel eyes. Your papa’s eyes are the color of a March morning. Yours change with your mood and with the color of the sky.”