The cold, damp winds of November fifteenth, were blowing against the hard curtain walls of Tioram. A roaring fire was bearing off the chill, when Isabella MacDonald cried out and gave a final push, bringing a baby daughter into the fold of the MacDonald Clan. Arabella breathed her first and started letting out her relief at being born, her new lungs tested to their capacity. Once cleaned and swaddled, Isabella took her new daughter, holding her to her breast and at once calmed and bonded with her. Isabella gently played with the faint wisps of light, red hairs on her head, what would soon be a thick mane of ginger curls in years to come.
Arabella grew up in the fashion most young girls of the clan did, playing games and helping with chores around the castle. Many a day was spent hiding throughout the many rooms and buildings within the thick stone walls that defined her safety, her cousins and friends all joining in to play Hide and Go Seek. She remembered how simple and care-free her life was then, seeing her friends married and gone now, only slips of paper keeping them together.
Her first real adventure that she could remember, was with her father, John, standing at the prow of their birlinn, holding onto the figurehead of a winged horse. She loved feeling the wind and salty, sea spray misting her face, as they sailed to Dunvegan to meet the MacLeod's for the first time. She enjoyed being on the sea and riding out the waves, as they made their way along the coast of Skye, with its towering bluffs and craggy rocks. She felt safe and free with him, knowing she could reach out and explore the world, with her father watching out for her, keeping her from harm. She missed that feeling terribly in her heart, knowing it to always be a cherished memory of him.
Coming into the bay and seeing the playful grey seals swimming alongside, had her feeling the castle was enchanted. She watched as they came close and reached her hand out to touch them. Her father pulled her back and reminded her that they were wild and might think to eat her hand, as much as to let her touch them. From then on, she kept her hands inside and just peered over the side at them, watching them leap and dive, playfully enjoying being with them. She loved the place immediately and wanted to be in the castle and see what it was like. She remembered how impressive Dunvegan was, compared to Tioram, how her clan had spent money on more castles, while the MacLeod's had improved more upon the main one. Even now, she pictured its majestic Fairy Tower and grand facade in her mind and wished for Tioram to have some of its splendour.
Garreth was a boy of seven, when Arabella was introduced to him. She remembered standing beside her father, holding onto his kilt for security, while Garreth stood beside his father, picking at his tunic, which was getting too small for him. She found herself smiling at his discomfort, and wanting to make friends. A couple of smiles and a day of play, had them both looking forward to each time they would visit each others clan. In time, Grayson and Peadair joined in their fun and the four were as close as family. Many times she and Grayson spent a week at Dunvegan, while on others, Garreth and Peadair would come and stay with them.
Grayson eventually became Garreth's best friend over time, but Arabella held a place in her heart and shared a life-long friendship with him. He became her heart's desire at one point, her thirteenth birthday being the occasion, when Garreth placed a kiss on her cheek and wished her well on her day. Ever since then, he was her inspiration, when her thoughts turned to love. He became the spark of her lust the following summer, when she followed Grayson and Garreth, as they were hiking along River Shiel. She used her cunning to stay undetected and watched as they stopped to go for a swim. Arabella could feel her heart race wildly, as Garreth stripped off his tunic and then his kilt, granting her, her first look at a man's pride. She studied it to no end, admiring the movement as Garreth walked. Even now the memory caused a stirring in her.
Before her fourteenth birthday, she found herself hundreds of miles away in France, gaining her education as a Chieftain's daughter, to become a Lady. The convent was one that would play a part in her life later, bringing another young lady from there into the bonds of her clan, one she had come to know well. By the time she left, the Sisters of Cathedrale de St. Pierre were relieved to see her go back. Arabella had presented them with a high-spirited highland lass, that tested them at every turn. Twice during her stay, she was threatened with expulsion. Once for her temper, when she took it out on an English girl for her demeaning attitude towards the Scottish people, which the sisters gave her a week of silence and again, for when she was caught touching herself in an inappropriate manner while bathing.
Mother Superior informed her with great loathing at what she had sinfully done and laid a painfully, sharp switch across her ass cheeks. Arabella never did it again while she was bathing, but she remembered the wonderful sensations it gave, as she did it secretly in bed. It was a bitter-sweet moment when she received news of a marriage proposal from her mother. A young man named Logan MacLean, had made his interests known to her parents and they accepted on her behalf. From what her mother had told her, he sounded wonderful and her heart raced, wanting to meet him. It saddened her heart that she had to leave the convent and her new friend, Therese de Mornay behind. Tears were falling in abundance, as the two parted and watched each other disappear in the distance, as Arabella stood on the aft deck, waving farewell to her.
The sail back to her homeland was longer than she would have liked, desperate to get back to her family and friends and a certain young man, who by way of correspondence, had let her know that he would be waiting for her return. As the small ship docked in Mallaig, the closest port to Tioram, Arabella stood on the deck, holding onto the rail, while strong, late-spring breezes gusted about her. She scanned the dock for signs of her family, as she had her luggage collected and brought to the pier.
Her eyes caught sight of their birlinn, tied to the dock far down the pier from her, so she scoured the faces of the many who were there and spotted her father and mother, along with her brother Grayson, now a tall, broad-shouldered young man of sixteen. His flaming mane of matching ginger that equalled hers, stood out amid the heads of browns and blacks that massed together.
Her heart stopped beating, as she caught her breath. Walking behind her parents with Grayson, dressed in his best highland garb, was her fiancee, Logan MacLean. Of all the descriptions she had been given, he was far more handsome and took her heart with his good looks. It took all of her newly-learned Ladyship qualities to remain reserved, as she came down the gang-way and greeted him for the first time. She bowed ever-so politely and accepted his taking of her hand and kissing it, but the twinkling in her eyes held the truth of her demeanour. She was caught in the spell of Love and it held her fast. It was hard to tear her eyes away from his blonde hair and grey eyes, before she greeted her parents warmly and hugged her mother especially tighter, enjoying the feeling of physically being with her again. The sense of being safe and secure once more with her father returned to her, as he held her close to him.
