The Highlander’s Tudor Lass

A game in the garden that Anna doesn't want to play. Grigg is trying to win her hand, but Callum won't leave her, because he's trying to take her back to Wolf Isle to safety. So he's having to go along with the foolish games.

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Seymour’s lips pinched tighter, and he flipped his hand. “’Tis a game. Do you not play games in Scotland?”

“We did not at Hawick House,” Anna said.

“Except All Hid,” Dora murmured, her smile gone.

Grigg gave Anna a grin. “May I?”

Anna looked around the circle, and Dora gave her an encouraging nod. “I suppose you may.”

Before Seymour even said go, Grigg lunged forward, scooping Anna and all her petticoats off the ground. She gasped, her arms going around the man’s neck while Elizabeth and Dora both clamped hands over their mouths. The man tore into the labyrinth, dodging along the bushes, his feet shuffling under the weight of Anna in all those layers of English court dress.

“One, two, three…” Seymour said. He seemed to slow as Grigg rounded a corner, carrying his burden. When Grigg got to the open end, he spun around, nearly dropping Anna. Her feet hit the ground, and he threw his arms in the air triumphantly before tugging Anna’s hand to draw her back through the maze to them.

Seymour laughed brightly. “Sixty-three seconds, Grigg. Not a bad show.” He turned to Callum. “Now ’tis the Highlander’s turn to see how he can save the damsel.”

Anna’s cheeks were stained pink, and she didn’t meet Callum’s gaze as he approached. She was obviously embarrassed by the exercise. “Anna,” he said and waited until she looked at him. “May I pick ye up?” He really didn’t care to show his strength before these fools.

“’Tis how we play the game,” she said, her lips flat, “so yes.”

Callum bent and lifted her gently in his arms. Even with the heavy clothing, her weight was no bother. He inhaled the faint flower fragrance that clung to her and lifted his gaze away from the display of her creamy skin above the lace neckline. Lord help him, she was soft all over. But she hates Scotland, which was his first and only love.

“Go!” Seymour said without warning. “One, two…”

Callum began to walk slowly toward the labyrinth, far enough along so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Do all English play foolish games?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said. “But Admiral Seymour likes to be entertained, and his riches and comfort give him the time to think of such pursuits instead of worrying about from where his next meal will come.”

“Did ye worry back at Hawick House? From where your next meal would come?”

She inhaled fully. “Sometimes. We certainly didn’t have time for games.”

“Except All Hid,” Callum said, watching her closely.

Her smooth features pinched, and she looked out. “That wasn’t a game.” She turned her gaze to meet his. “That was survival.”

“You’re way behind time, Macquarie,” Seymour yelled.

There was still three-quarters of the labyrinth before them. He wished they were alone so he could ask more about her old way of life. Survival? How bad had it been at Hawick House? Bad enough to make a lass abandon her country?

“A foolish game.” He glanced back at the small group watching them. “But if I must play to entertain an Englishman, I’ll play by a Highlander’s rules.” He lifted Anna more securely against him and turned into the thick shrub line. His strong legs crashed right through the prickly limbs, the scrapes and jabs no bother against his tall boots and thick wool wrap.

He was rewarded by a small chuckle from Anna. She turned her blue eyes up to him. “Scots make their own rules,” she said, and he detected the smallest amount of pride.

“Aye, we do.”

Callum walked in a direct line to the exit, cutting straight through the precisely trimmed bushes.

“He’s not allowed to do that,” Grigg yelled, his indignant voice threaded with a whiny undertone.

“’Tis cheating, Macquarie,” Seymour called, but Callum continued to the end.

He pushed through the last hedge and stopped, keeping his back to the gathered crowd. “Down ye go,” he said and gently let Anna slide against him to the ground.

Her hand squeezed his arm as she fixed her slipper into place. The hold lingered while she set her foot down and looked up at him, a grin parting her lips. “The admiral doesn’t like anyone challenging him.”

“I can see that,” Callum said, smiling back. Anna slid her hand off his arm, but they kept looking at one another. “’Tis not something that concerns me.”

“What?” she whispered as if losing track of their conversation.

“That Seymour doesn’t like to be challenged,” he said, his voice equally low.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “I mean to say, no, he doesn’t.” She broke the gaze between them by turning back toward the group.

Dora held a gloved hand over her mouth, and the princess smiled broadly. Katherine Parr shook her head. Seymour had propped his hands on his hips, and both peacocks wore irritated dismay on their faces.

Callum cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to them. “And that is how a Highlander gets a lass to safety.”

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