‘Tis with a heavy heart that I write this tae ye, fer I ken nae when we will see each other again. A formal feud has been declared against me clan by Clan MacDonell, and already now word has come that warriors o’ this clan are marching against our home.
‘Tis me faither’s will that me braither Killian and I shall be sent away from here, fer the safety o’ our clan’s future. Killian, o’ course, is his heir, and I deem it likely me faither kens that Killian wouldnae consent tae be sent from the field o’ battle unless it were fer the duty o’ keeping watch over me.
I understand me faither’s reasons, fer he cannae have either o’ his blood used as hostages, and yet, I am sore aggrieved, fer there is nae way o’ kenning how long this feud will last, nor how long me braither and I will be kept away. I wish tae believe it will only be a short time, but as ye and I both ken full well, feuds dinnae start or end lightly. And so, it might be months, even years, afore I see MacPherson Keep again.
And how much longer still afore there’s any chance o’ seeing ye? Certain sure, even if the feud were tae end, at least formally, within a fortnight, ‘twould be much longer afore me faither would permit me tae be wondering around the hills and lochs as we’ve done thus far.
I ken ye’ve sent a formal betrothal request tae him, but with a feud now spoken against us, I dinnae ken if yer kinfolk will wish tae continue extending the offer. I ken yer folk are honorable and strong, but they may nae want tae be brought intae a feud, and they would be, if we were tae be married. Honor as kin-by-marriage would demand it.
Likewise, I ken that even if yer clan is willing tae permit yerselves tae be caught up in our strife, me faither will have little or nae time tae be considering a suit. He’s nae likely tae spare the time and attention fer yer request, nae with Clan MacDonell marching on his doorstep. Nay more would he listen tae me if I were tae try and persuade him that giving me hand tae yers in betrothal would keep me safer than sending me away.
I dinnae want tae be parted from ye – nae fer a day, and certainly nae fer months or years. And that is why I write this letter tae ye, me beloved Evander. That ye may find me, if yer love is strong enough that ye’re willing to brave the dangers o’ the feud and the possible displeasure o’ two lairds – yer faither and my own – tae be taegether with me.
Will ye seek me? If ye choose tae dae so, I will be with me maither’s sister, Ava’s mother, and her husband. Ye’ll find me waiting fer ye, and we can cement our betrothal then, and be married as soon as we have the consent o’ both our lairds – when the feud is over, if nae afore then. After all, once engaged, ‘twill nae matter if the wait is long or short, fer we will be taegether and promised tae each other.
On the other hand, if ye willnae seek me and risk the ire o’ yer faither, or the danger o’ bringing yer clan into the quarrel which may yet consume Clan MacPherson, then I will understand. But if that is the case – if yer love cannae stand against yer loyalty tae yer faither, or yer consideration fer yer clan – then I pray ye, dinnae tell me so. Dinnae respond tae this missive, me love, and let silence be yer answer. Silence and the distance between us, fer I cannae bear the thought o’ reading a rejection penned by yer hand.
I am sorry tae ask so much o’ ye, but what then is love, but asking and giving fer the sake o’ another? I love ye, and I wouldnae be parted from ye, and if ye love me as well, then ye’ll understand.
This letter shall reach ye through me faither, but it is best tae address all others tae me through me aunt, fer it is she who will be me guardian. Also, me faither doesnae need any more distractions.
I pray tae hear from ye soon, or better still, tae see ye at me aunt’s door.
Evander looked around the Great Hall. It was the celebration of the anniversary of Alec’s lairdship, and the whole clan had gathered. His heart filled with joy as he looked around at the full hall, the quiet discussions of adults punctuated by the happy shrieks of children as they played.
There were several children, and Evander let his eyes follow each one in turn.
Alec and Kira had two sons – twin boys who, at eight summers, were already bidding fair to inherit their father’s height and their mother’s mannerisms. Kieran was quieter than his brother Devon, but both were full of trouble when they took it into their heads to cause mischief. He’d had to fish them out of ponds and various other scrapes more than once.
Catreena and Tad had a son as well, only a season younger than Alec and Kira’s boys. Ian was very much his mother’s son, a matter Tad often bemoaned, even as he beamed with pride. When he and Alec’s sons were together, the kitchens had learned to watch any pastries that might be cooling, lest they wander off.
Bran and Ilyssa had one child, a daughter named Kathleen, who had been a spitfire since the moment of her birth, seven years ago. She was active and boisterous, and just as inclined to play with the lads as she was with the lasses. She was also the apple of her father’s eye, and Bran bid fair to spoil her, though Evander pitied whatever man came to court the child when she grew up. She was as mischievous as her mother.
Not that he could talk, when his pride in his son was matched by his protectiveness toward his daughter. Conrad was the same age as Kathleen, older by a month, and the two alternated between getting along, and quarreling in a manner that drove all the adults to distraction.
Evander and May’s daughter Eileen was much younger – only four years old, and content to sit in corner and play quietly. She had her mother’s quiet spirit, but she could be just as stubborn as Evander when she wanted something. She had also inherited May’s protective nature, and a fondness for cats. Her joy in the creatures had actually helped May begin to heal from her fears. She would never be easy around dogs of any type, but she had a small cat she’d tamed, which often sat on her lap when she read or embroidered.
The last child Evander looked for was Dunn and Elayne’s child – five-year-old Diana. She seemed to alternate between trying to keep up with her older cousins, and keeping her younger cousin company. She was good-natured and friendly, and already showed signs of being a healer when she grew older.
And soon, she’d have a brother or sister of her own to look after, which was doubtless why she was spending the majority of her time with Eileen this evening. Evander’s eyes went to where Elayne was sitting, her belly softly rounded to show the growing life within.
May nudged his side. “What are ye thinking about?”
“How nice it is tae be here, with friends and family. How good it is tae see everyone happy and healthy, after all we’ve been through.” Evander looped an arm around her, and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “And how nice it would be tae give Eileen a sibling tae play with.”
“Och! Is that right?” May shoved at him, laughing.
Evander laughed too, knowing well that what he had just suggested was not just in jest. The sound of their laughter echoed off the stone walls, and Evander laughed louder, just to hear the sound.
Alec then rose to make a speech and the hall fell silent.
“Dear family, friends, clansmen, and women. Welcome to this celebration, a feast nae just fer me anniversary but fer us all, a strong, united, and proud clan.”
Murmurs of approval supported his words.
“I am naething without yer support and help and I am grateful fer the presence of each and every one of ye, fer ye are what makes me a laird. I am proud tae be yer chosen leader, but may ye all ken, that ye often lead me. After so many years, and so many trials, today Clan Mackintosh is full of laughter, joy once more. So let us raise a glass to our beloved Clan! Slàinte Mhath!”.
All the guests, who had stood during the speech, raised their cups and cheered “Slàinte Mhath! Long live our laird!”
After a long drink from his mead, Evander leaned towards his beloved wife and whispered again “Why dinnae we go work on that sibling right now? I have a pressing need tae retire tae our chambers this instant.” And with that he quickly flicked his tongue into her ear.
May giggled like a young girl and took him by the hand. “As yer wife I must cater tae yer ever need, me dear husband, especially the more pressing ones.”
“Never was there anything better said or a more wonderful wife!”
This is the story of Gillian, an adventurous English lady who finds herself captured by a mysterious and alluring Highlander. This Highlander will do whatever it takes to save his people from hunger, even abduct the daughter of his enemy. But life seldom goes as planned. What will happen when the Highlander starts falling for Gillian? And will her feelings or her logic prevail in this peculiar turn of events?
This is the story of Julia, an intelligent English lady who runs away to escape her woes and finds herself in the keep of an enticing Highlander. This Highlander, as handsome as he may be, has serious economic troubles, and only a miracle can save him. But perhaps one's answer is closer than he thinks. How will he help her face the past that is haunting her? And how will she save him?
This is the story of Gale, an adventurous English lady who runs away to escape her murderous mother and finds herself in the company of an alluring Highlander. There she is called to change her ways, and he helps her see the world from a different point of view. But her past is catching up with her. How will she elude her mother? And will this be the only obstacle in their relationship?
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Prologue
September 1688
Somewhere between MacPherson and Mackintosh lands…
The sun was shining outside the small cave where they habitually met. May MacPherson watched it dance over the familiar fields of heather, then turned to look at her longtime friend, Evander Mackintosh.
How long had they wandered these hills and fields together and explored every loch and stream and stone between MacPherson Keep and Mackintosh Castle? She didn’t know, but she was all too aware that her feelings for Evander were no longer purely friendship. She might have been mortified, save that she knew Evander’s feelings had changed to match hers as they grew from bairns to youths.
As if in answer to her thoughts, Evander’s hand slid into hers, his lightly tanned skin only a few shades darker than her own, and flawless as May knew her own could never be. From the forearms to her fingertips, her skin was smooth and tanned. Under the cloth of her blouse and skirt, however, it was a different story.
Her upper arms, shoulders, chest and back were heavily marked with long, slashing scars and small, rough-edged furrows – the price she’d paid as a child when she’d saved her cousin Ava from a pack of winter-starved wolves. Most of the time, she hated to even think about the scars, but Evander never made her feel self-conscious, despite never having seen them either, save for the very edges on the rare occasions she pushed her sleeves back while they were engaged in some activity or the other.
“Ye’re fretting again.” Evander lifted her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. “Ye ken I dinnae mind yer scars. Why should I? Ye’re still the most beautiful lass in all the Highlands, and scars are proof ye’re as brave as ye are beautiful.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to her wrist, then turned and kissed her again, this time on her cheek. May turned her head and kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his chapped lips against hers.
When they finally broke apart for air, Evander smiled. “That’s better. I’d hate fer ye tae looks so pensive when I’m telling ye the news I brought from home.”
May felt her heart skip a beat. “And what news is that?”
Evander grinned, his whole face lighting up with joy. “I finally mustered the courage tae ask me faither tae seek out yers tae discuss a potential betrothal between us. And he agreed that I should extend an invitation tae yer faither, tae ask fer yer hand and formally ally both our clans through marriage.”
May felt her heart leap in her chest. “Ye’re serious?”
“Aye. The formal messenger should be leaving Mackintosh Castle fer yer faither’s castle taeday, but I wanted tae tell ye in person tae make sure ye’re happy with the idea.”
She gave him a mock-indignant look. “Did ye think I wouldnae be? ‘Tis nae like I’d kiss any other lad the way I just kissed ye.”
Evander threw his head back and laughed. “I should hope nae.”
May smiled to see his easy mirth, though her delight faded as she contemplated the matter. Having the permission of Evander’s father was a blessing to be sure, but they’d need her father’s as well, in order to avoid causing strife between the two clans.
“Here now, ye look fair sad of a sudden.” Evander pulled her close. “What’s troubling ye, me love? Ye cannae think yer faither will refuse the alliance, dae ye?”
“I dinnae. ‘Tis me fear he willnae make time fer it at all.” May sighed. “Ye ken he’s always had a poor relationship with laird Scott MacDonell, but ‘tis grown fair worse of late. There are rumors that there is tae soon be an all-out feud – if nae a blood feud. With battle on the horizon, I dinnae ken if me faither will be willing tae make time fer seeing me married.”
Her father never had much time for her. She’d heard from the maids a long time ago about the circumstances of her birth, and how her mother had died bearing her. Was it any wonder Laird Conor MacPherson found other things to look at and love than the daughter who’d cost him his wife?
“I’m sure he’ll come around. After all, an alliance with our clan would make yer own safer. And even if that’s nae something he believes, surely he’s yer faither and will want ye happy and safe if trouble comes.”
May wanted to believe that, and was opening her mouth to say so, when rocks clattering across the ground outside their little hideaway made them both tense up. May clutched at Evander’s arm, hoping it wasn’t a wild animal whose den they had invaded.
Ever since the encounter with the wolves, wild animals terrified her, and so did some domestic ones as well. Dogs in particular, especially hunting dogs, but even harmless animals like rabbits and deer made her heart beat faster.
More clattering, and then a familiar voice rang out. “May! Och, May!”
“Killian,” May scrambled to her feet and out into the sunlight, with Evander a step behind.
Her brother was waiting atop his horse, his shorter blond hair disordered by the breeze and his expression tight with concern. His dark eyes were filled with urgency as he waved her over. Even if she hadn’t known something was wrong from that, she would have understood from the fact that he’d made no effort to dismount. Killian had always been tall for his age, and it was only recently that he’d stopped being so self-conscious about it. “There ye are.” A brief expression of apology filled his eyes. “I’m sorry tae be disturbing ye, when I ken how much ye enjoy these outings, but Faither sent me tae find ye, says ye’re needed back at the Keep with all haste.” He looked at Evander and nodded his respect.
She could hardly refuse a summons from her father, especially not when Killian delivered it. She and her older brother had always been close, and they did their best not to interfere in each other’s leisure time with friends or companions. May turned to Evander. “Me love, I must go. But I’ll be waiting tae hear from ye and yer faither.” She pressed a light, quick kiss to his mouth, then turned away.
Evander caught her arm. “I could come with ye. If there’s trouble, I could help protect ye, and speak tae yer faither direct.”
May smiled, touched by his words. “Nae. If there’s trouble, he’ll nae have time fer speaking tae ye. And as fer protecting me from trouble, me braither’s here. He’ll be seeing me home safely enough.”
“As ye will. I’ll be patient till our next meeting. And I hope tae be seeing ye soon.”
A last, quick kiss, and May swung onto her horse and followed her brother. They rode back to the familiar walls of MacPherson Keep at a fast walk, just short of pushing the horses to a run, and within the candle-mark, the horses were stabled and she and Killian were hurrying toward their father’s study.
Laird Conor MacPherson was a sturdily built man, who always seemed to regard May with a cool gaze. May looked for any sign that the Mackintosh’s messenger had arrived, hut her father looked as stern and remote as ever, save for a slightly furrowed brow.
He didn’t even greet them as he normally did. “Laird MacDonell’s declared a formal feud on us, and scouts have said he’s marching his warriors on MacPherson Keep. I want the two o’ ye tae be somewhere safe, so I’m sending ye tae me sister within the hour.”
Killian scowled. “I’m old enough tae help ye in the fighting.”
“Ye’re also me son and heir. Ye and yer sister can be used as hostages against me, and if ye’re hurt or killed, the clan falls. I willnae risk it.”
May swallowed hard against the forlorn feeling that filled her. For a moment, she’d thought her father was worried about her, but his words only reminded her of the truth – his concern was for his clan and her brother. She was a concern only in that she was a way someone could potentially endanger those things.
Even so, she needed to speak up. “Faither, the Mackintosh clan….”
“There’s nae time tae be thinking about that. The clan needs ye tae be safe.” His face was stern, unyielding, and she knew there’d be no convincing him otherwise.
She dipped her head. “I understand, Faither. But I’d like tae write a letter and ask ye tae send it tae Clan Mackintosh.”
She saw the glint of annoyance in his face, but he nodded and gestured to his desk and the writing tools placed there. “As long as ye’re quick about writing it.”
May nodded and went to the desk to pen a quick missive for Evander.
Once she’d finished writing the letter, she folded it over and sealed it. “Thank ye Faither. It is fer Evander Mackintosh. Can it be sent as soon as possible?”
“Aye.” Her father took the letter and tucked it away. May offered him a brief curtsy, then hurried to pack her belongings.
She had every faith that Evander would come to find her soon, and their betrothal and the alliance between their clans would be a reality. However, if she was wrong – if Evander’s love for her wasn’t as strong as his loyalty to his clan – then she’d know soon enough.
*****
Evander watched as May rode away with her brother Killian. He was worried about what might have caused her father to send his brother for her. He wished he could have gone with them, but he respected May’s request that he let them go alone.
Hopefully, it wasn’t anything too serious, and they’d be able to have the meeting for their formal betrothal and alliance within the next few days. And if it was serious, perhaps he could ride over to MacPherson Keep to speak to Laird MacPherson himself, and discuss the potential betrothal in person.
He’d have to speak to his father first though, to let him know that there might be a situation between the MacPherson and MacDonell clans. He was fairly certain his father wouldn’t refuse the betrothal or alliance because of a potential feud, but Laird Mackintosh would be furious if he discovered that one of his sons had risked the safety of the clan by knowingly holding back information about a danger to a potential ally.
With a sigh, he returned to his own horse and began the ride back to Mackintosh Castle. All he could do was return and wait for the reply from May’s father, Laird MacPherson.
Back at home, he sought out his father in his study. “Faither, was the formal betrothal request sent tae Clan MacPherson?”
His father huffed. “Aye, me boy. It was. Dinnae be so impatient. The messenger will return soon enough.”
“I ken. ‘Tis only that I care a great deal fer May MacPherson.” Evander swallowed hard. “And she just told me that Laird MacPherson is in a dispute with another o’ his neighbors – the Laird o’ MacDonell Clan.”
“Everyone kens that. But we’re strong enough, and the MacPherson’s have been good friends and neighbors tae us. A little thing like a feud wouldnae stop us from agreeing tae an alliance, especially nae an alliance by marriage. ‘Tis good fer both clans.” Just then, Alec Mackintosh, Evander’s oldest brother, opened the door and stalked over to throw an arm over his shoulder. “Faither’s right, braither. Be patient, and the messenger will return with word soon enough.”
“Aye.” Evander sighed, bowed to his father and older brother, then left the office. Perhaps some sparring would help take his mind off May while he waited for word from Clan MacPherson.
Chapter One
September 1698
Ten years later
May Mackintosh scowled as she worked on the ropes binding her arms. If she could just get her fingers around and a fingernail or two under one loop, she was confident she could loosen the bonds and free herself from the bindings.
The guards would be a different matter, but she’d rather make the attempt than even consider the fate that awaited her if she stayed where she was.
A pox-rotted plague on Scot McDonell’s land. Serves him right, fer the ten years o’ strife he’s given our clan, and all fer a marriage I’ll never agree tae, and lands that were never his nor his family’s tae claim!
The knots came free, and May smiled in triumph as she hurried to shake loose the ropes that had bound her for the past few days. Once free, she rose to her feet and searched her room for a weapon, feeling a little bit dizzy on her feet. There wasn’t much. The room was scarcely better than the prison cells of her family’s dungeon. There was a heavy door that was always locked, a pallet with pillow and blanket, and a hearth, currently unlit. Scot was determined to give her as few weapons and options as possible.
After a moment, May selected a relatively sturdy log from the woodpile for the hearth, to serve her as a makeshift club. A guard would be coming with food for her soon, and that would likely be her best, if not her only chance at escaping. She couldn’t waste it, especially knowing what Scot McDonell had in store for her clan.
He’d already told her, just after she was captured, and the conversation had made her blood run cold with fear and loathing. He planned to force her to the altar, then use the marriage as a way to draw her father and her brother into a position where he could kill them and take the clan and the lands they held by force. If May hadn’t already despised him before then, the way he spoke so casually of kin-killing made her sick, even if he hadn’t been referring to her father and brother.
She was distracted from her thoughts by the heavy tramp of the guard approaching her room. May dropped into a sitting position and hid the wood in her skirts, pretending to still be bound in place.
She might not have bothered for all the attention the guard paid her as he walked to the fire, set down her trencher, and began to poke the embers into a small, sullen blaze.
May clambered quietly to her feet, moving slowly and carefully as she’d often done in childish games trying to startle her brother. The guard paid her no mind. Fool.
As soon as she was in range, May lifted the wood and slammed it down on the guard’s skull with all the strength she could muster. The man crashed to the ground with barely a grunt. May stooped to check and make sure he was breathing. She hoped she hadn’t hit him too hard. Once she was sure he wouldn’t have any problems besides a lump on the back of his head, she stole his dagger.
Thus armed, her next step was to see how many guards there were outside her room. She knew she wasn’t in a large building, certainly not MacDonell Keep.
She stuck her head cautiously out of the room of what looked to be a village leader’s house or a prosperous crofter’s home. A short hall led to the main front room, and the front door, where two more guards were waiting.
If they’d both been alert and keeping a strict watch on her, she would have had no chance. But one was watching through the front windows, presumably for a rescue party or for his laird to return with the priest he’d threatened May with before he departed. The other was eating a quick meal on his own, sitting on one of the three chairs in the room.
Neither of them was paying any attention to the small side door that most likely led to the privy, or at least the rubbish pit. May moved as quickly as she could to the door and opened it with slow, quiet movements, just far enough to slide through the gap and outside.
Her first instinct was to run for the woods, but instead, she moved toward the front of the building. The men had horses, and they’d outpace her in an instant if she tried to escape on foot. It was better to try her luck at stealing a horse and seeing how much distance she could put between the guards and the cottage before they came after her.
They’d kept her blindfolded, and May had no idea where she was, but she was certain that any place she could wind up, besides MacDonell Keep itself, would be better than where she was now.
She was fortunate that the horses were tied loosely to allow them to eat, and that the knots were easy ones to undo. She was even more fortunate that the horses hadn’t been unsaddled. There must have been a change of watchmen at some point, for no proper Highlander would leave his horse saddled for two days. The only other explanation was that they’d received word they would soon be leaving. She hoped that wasn’t the case, as it meant she was in danger of encountering MacDonell soldiers on the road.
May chose the smallest and fastest looking of the horses and untied it. The horse made soft whickering noises, clearly surprised by an unfamiliar rider. She soothed it with gentle responses as she allowed the animal to get her scent, before she swung up into the saddle.
Even with her caution, she wasn’t quiet enough. The horses stamped and whinnied at the sudden movement, and she heard a shout from the house. With an oath, May put her heels to the horse’s sides and startled it into a run.
She had a head start, and she knew it. But the warriors were not put out by that. Even as one of them hurried to untie the other horses to give chase, his companion flung a blade at her. It might have been aimed to knock her off her seat, or to injure the horse into throwing her. It might even have been aimed at the horse to lame it slightly.
May leaned, twisted the reins to pull the horse out of the path, and swiped back with her stolen dagger to ward off the blade or any others he might throw. She thought she felt something glance off her lower arm, but she was too busy with swinging the horse back around and pushing it back into a run.
The small, barely visible track from the building branched into a larger path. May started to turn in that direction, then paused. The warriors of MacDonell would expect her to take the path, and if she chose the wrong direction, she might encounter more soldiers. Instead, she chose a passable section and sent her horse off the road, into the brush.
There was a good chance they’d be able to follow her trail, but only if they were looking for it. She rode as hard, not knowing if she dared to look back or slow down. She couldn’t hear any pursuit, but then she hadn’t heard the men who’d kidnapped her the first time.
There was nothing she could do save ride, and hope to find her way to safety. As she did, she couldn’t help thinking about all the circumstances that had brought her there.
Ten years before, Scot MacDonell had declared a formal feud with her father. She’d never known the reason behind the feud, if there was one beyond greed. But since then, it had been a constant struggle.
Scot had demanded she be given to him in marriage, along with a claim to the lairdship of MacPherson when her father passed, but Laird Conor MacPherson had adamantly refused to rob his son of his birthright and May had adamantly refused to marry a man who was an enemy.
There was only one man in the world she’d ever wanted to marry, and even if she had been forced to have stomached a loveless alliance marriage, she wouldn’t have accepted to marry Laird MacDonell. She simply couldn’t trust him to not to murder the entire rest of her family as soon as the wedding night was over.
Once again, she found herself remembering Evander. Her first and only love. Despite the ten years since their last meeting, the thought of him still made her heart ache.
She thought he’d loved her. Loved her enough to do anything for her, even convince his father to come to the aid of her family. But it seemed she’d been wrong about him – not that she could fault his decision. The fighting had been long and bloody, and it was little surprise that no other clans had wanted to involve themselves in the struggle.
She’d sent him a letter asking him to seek her out, if their love mattered enough to him to risk involving his clan in the fighting that engulfed hers. She’d waited for weeks, then months, for a response until she’d finally been forced to accept the bitter truth – silence was his answer, and his love for her had been no stronger than a summer blossom touched by frost.
It hurt, but at least Evander hadn’t lied to her, or pretended to accept obligations he’d no intention of upholding. From time to time, May had heard news of him. Rumor among the clans had it that the former Laird Mackintosh had passed away. Then she’d heard that Evander was betrothed to another. The news had hurt, for all that she’d tried to pretend it didn’t.
She wondered what life would have been like, married to Evander – what all their lives would have been like had the feud not interfered. It was far too easy to recall all the lovely days they’d shared, roaming the moors and hills, laughing and kissing as they walked hand-in-hand, or sprawled out on the grass as they talked.
May shook her head, banishing the thoughts of Evander. As easy and as tempting as it was to get lost in thoughts of the past, she had more immediate things to concern her. Night was falling, and the scent of rain was heavy in the air. She needed to find shelter, until she could find a way to return to her father and her brother.
Hopefully, she could find somewhere safe from Laird MacDonell’s soldiers.
There might be wolves. Just the thought was enough to make her reconsider her plans before she took control of her wayward imagination and faltering resolve.
In the twilight, everything seemed strangely familiar. Heartened by the feelings of recognition, she spurred her tired horse onward, toward the structure she thought she could see in the distance, a darker shape against the deepening gloom.
Storm clouds gathered overhead, and May shivered in the chill wind. She wasn’t dressed for traveling out in the open and in poor weather. A part of her longed to push the horse faster still, but the animal was already well-lathered and wearied from the hour-long flight over uneven ground in their effort to escape, and she dared not risk foundering or laming it.
The first drop of rain hit her nose as she crested the rise nearest the large building, and May stopped in surprise and slight dismay.
In the burgeoning gloom, she hadn’t recognized the castle, but this close, not even the growing deluge could disguise where her steps had led her. Somehow, she’d made her way to the steps of Mackintosh Castle. Part of her wanted to turn around and run for the hills once more, but the rain was coming down harder with every passing moment, and she was shivering. After a moment, May bit her lip and rode up to the gates to seek sanctuary for the evening. She might not like the idea, but even an encounter with her long-lost love was preferable to catching her death of cold, or being caught by Laird MacDonell’s men.
Ten years later and me heart still belongs tae the man who broke it. God’s grant, and he’ll nae be there… or I’ll have strength tae nae let him see me troubled if he is.
This is the story of Gillian, an adventurous English lady who finds herself captured by a mysterious and alluring Highlander. This Highlander will do whatever it takes to save his people from hunger, even abduct the daughter of his enemy. But life seldom goes as planned. What will happen when the Highlander starts falling for Gillian? And will her feelings or her logic prevail in this peculiar turn of events?
This is the story of Julia, an intelligent English lady who runs away to escape her woes and finds herself in the keep of an enticing Highlander. This Highlander, as handsome as he may be, has serious economic troubles, and only a miracle can save him. But perhaps one's answer is closer than he thinks. How will he help her face the past that is haunting her? And how will she save him?
This is the story of Gale, an adventurous English lady who runs away to escape her murderous mother and finds herself in the company of an alluring Highlander. There she is called to change her ways, and he helps her see the world from a different point of view. But her past is catching up with her. How will she elude her mother? And will this be the only obstacle in their relationship?
Étaín was excited as she stared out the window of the carriage as it bustled through the Highlands. It had been three long months of preparations, but finally she and Bhaltair were on their way to MacThomas lands before they traveled on to Baird lands in the Lowlands. They were to go to see his brother Tristan first, after he had sent a letter asking for a visit. He had heard that Bhaltair was to become Laird Baird, and he wanted to see him, and Étaín knew that Bhaltair was nervous. He was to be the Laird of Clan Baird, and she was to be his lady. Sometimes at night she repeated it to herself, and sometimes she had to say it to Elspeth to really believe that it was true.
“Ye deserve it, lass,” Elspeth had told her, tears in her eyes at their departure.
Étaín had invited her to come, asking if she would, but Elspeth and Angus were to be wed. There was a tearful goodbye that created an ache in Étaín’s chest. But it was a pleasant ache of love and friendship. She would return home from time to time, and she was so very glad for Elspeth’s happiness. She gasped lightly at the sight of the beauty of the rolling hills. As Lady Baird, she would miss her Highland home, and she wanted to soak in every last bit of it before it left. She finally felt as if her life was going somewhere. There was some direction, a plan. She was no longer sitting around feeling sad and sorry for herself, acting as her brother’s hostess. She now had a new home to go to, a home that she would lead.
“Tell me what ye are thinkin’ of, Étaín,” Bhaltair said from across the way in the carriage.
She turned to look at him and he was sitting, his hands folded on his lap, smiling at her. Grinning back at him, she turned to face him fully.
She said, “I was just thinking that ye look more handsome every day that passes.”
“Is that so?” he asked, leaning forward, a mischievous look on his face.
She leaned forward to touch a hand to his cheek and feel the harshness of his beard under her palm. She had not been lying; it was true. It was not simply every day, but every time she turned back to look at him. The sight of him grew more and more welcome, and it made her happier and happier each time.
“Aye.” She grinned as she looked into his eyes and then down at his mouth.
His hair had grown longer as well, but he kept it firmly tied back. He, Marcus and Kaden had been training for the past three months, and Bhaltair was like a different person. He no longer remembered his old injuries or his old fatigue, and that weight she’d first seen on his shoulders when he had come back into their lives was gone now. There was only clear happiness in his eyes.
“Well, then I should say the same fer ye, Étaín. Ye are like me bright star, and ye guide me home.”
Étaín felt a tightness in her chest. It was strange. How did some people not find such a love? She felt so happy, so grateful, and she now fully understood Líadan’s happiness with her husband. She wished it for everyone.
“Dae I now?” She asked with a mischievous look on her own face.
And even as the carriage rumbled along, she pulled up her skirts and moved across the carriage until she straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips.
She put her hands on his shoulders, and he turned his face up to her, looking a little surprised but pleased as well, and his smile widened.
“Aye,” he said, his hands sliding up her skirts and gripping her backside, roughly pulling a gasp out of her mouth.
Her smile faded, and she leaned down to kiss him. Their kiss was instantly deep and passionate, and it made her wet far faster than she’d expected. But he pulled away roughly, and he stared at her.
In a hoarse voice, he said, “Get those lovely breasts out fer me.”
He held her skirts up while she pulled at the ties of her bodice, her eyes not leaving his. She watched the hungry look in his gaze once her breasts were bare to him with eagerness. Even though he gripped her buttocks painfully hard, pressing his length against her, he nestled his face in between her breasts gently before he kissed along one and then pulled a nipple into his mouth.
“Bhaltair,” she breathed as he suckled against her, and her hands moved into his hair.
She leaned her head back, forgetting where they were for the moment, as her body was lost in pleasure.
“God in Heaven,” he said, turning to the other breast and giving it the same treatment, his tongue swirling around the hardened nipple. “I never am satisfied, me love, whenever I am with ye, I want more.”
She whimpered at the feel of the ache between her thighs, and when he rubbed his length against her, moving his hips upward, she cried out.
“Please,” she begged him, and he smiled against her mouth as he kissed her.
It only took a few moments for him to free himself, and then he was pressing into her, his hands on her hips, his eyes looking into hers. She was breathing hard, staring down at him. Every time they made love, it was better. There was something new to discover, some new realization, some new feeling, but every time the same feeling of gratitude and happiness washed over her. This was what she had desired for so long, and now they were one in every sense of the word.
She moved up and down his length, but he set the rhythm, his hands tight on her hips as he moved her body the way he wished. Her hands traveled from his shoulders and up his neck to his face again. And then as the pleasure grew, she threw her head back once more, crying out into the carriage, knowing she could be as loud as she wished.
Bhaltair started grunting as his thrusts grew harder. “Come fer me, love,” he told her roughly, and then he moved a hand between them, licking his thumb before he rubbed it against her. And then she came, loudly and quickly, shocked at her release. It shot warmth through her veins and every muscle relaxed. She shook on top of him, leaning forward, her forehead on his shoulders. It was as if she could not control her own body anymore. He thrust into her three more times before he held her tight, shaking and cursing aloud.
They sat like that for a little while, and then, when she pulled back, they were both smiling. “I love ye,” she told him.
“I love ye, and I cannae believe I married a woman who would let me bed her inside a carriage.”
“I would let ye bed me anywhere, Bhaltair.”
He winked at her. “I will remember that.”
***
Bhaltair, of course, loved making love to his wife at any moment in the day, but he was especially glad in that moment for there was a lot of nervous tension in his body. He was about to see his brother after five long years, and whom he knew did not care for him. It was rather out of politeness than anything else. And he was grateful for Étaín’s company as they rumbled along, closer and closer to MacThomas lands, lands he had once called home.
But now there was no home there for him any longer. It had not been home for many long years. He wondered what he would say to his brother, what he would ask him, what he would tell him. He wondered what his brother would say back to him. Why on earth did his brother wish to see him?
The closer they got, the more tension he felt in his body, and Étaín brushed a hand against his arm. “All will be well,” she told him, and then she leaned against his shoulder.
When the carriage finally stopped, he took a deep breath, ready to face what lay ahead. But he barely had enough time to help his wife out of the carriage before he turned and was tightly embraced by Tristan himself. He hadn’t even seen or heard the man coming towards him, and he held his hands out to the side, shocked at what was happening. But eventually, he hugged him back, and it felt like a final weight that had encumbered him had now disappeared.
“What is this?” Bhaltair finally asked, curious, as Tristan pulled back and stared at him, still holding his hands on his shoulders.
“Dear God, braither, it has been five long years,” Tristan said.
“Aye, I ken it,” Bhaltair replied with a nod, still confused at his brother’s odd behavior.
He had no idea what to say, and so he began with the obvious, sliding his hand to Étaín’s back.
“This is me wife, Étaín Stuart.”
With a smile, Tristan turned to Étaín, and he took her hand and laid a kiss upon it. Bhaltair took the time to study his brother. He looked a little bit older. And they looked far more similar than he knew Tristan probably would have liked. He did, however, look tired.
“It is so good tae meet ye. I ken that ye are likely tired from yer journey, but there is somethin’ I must say afore ye go in.”
“Very well,” Bhaltair said slowly, unsure of what he was about to hear.
Tristan looked uncomfortable, clearing his throat before he began. “Fergive me, Bhaltair, I beg ye.”
Bhaltair blinked, and his mouth opened, but nothing came out.
“Forgive me. I was terrible tae ye, and I was angry about maither’s death, but ye didnae deserve what ye received, tae be traded fer me in Sloan Baird’s dungeons. I heard Baird died, and that his son tortured ye fer five years past.”
“Four, really,” Bhaltair corrected, trying strangely to sound cheerful. “I escaped after four, and I have been on the run since. But Euan is dead now.”
His voice was steady and calm, but he had no idea what to do with Tristan’s apology.
“Aye, true enough. I tried fer a long time tae get ye from Euan, but he never allowed it. He even killed a few of me men who went in search of ye.”
Étaín gasped and then took Bhaltair’s hand, threading her fingers through his. He knew what she wanted him to do.
“Ye did that?” Bhaltair asked.
Tristan nodded, and then he said, “But when ye ran away, I couldnae find ye, until I heard about the news of yer new lairdship. Forgive me, Bhaltair. Let us be braithers again in truth. I want tae be part of yer family.”
Bhaltair hesitated for a moment, but Étaín squeezed his hand. “Ye dae ken that we are only half-braithers now?”
“Aye.” Tristan smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Perhaps it is the reason we had such difficulty growin’ up. But what dae ye say? Braithers in truth?” He held out a hand and looked at Bhaltair eagerly.
Bhaltair turned to Étaín, who nodded smilingly at him. He was yet again on the precipice of something new and better. He knew he would regret it if he did not take this chance, and so he took his brother’s hand and shook it.
This is the story of Gillian, an adventurous English lady who finds herself captured by a mysterious and alluring Highlander. This Highlander will do whatever it takes to save his people from hunger, even abduct the daughter of his enemy. But life seldom goes as planned. What will happen when the Highlander starts falling for Gillian? And will her feelings or her logic prevail in this peculiar turn of events?
This is the story of Julia, an intelligent English lady who runs away to escape her woes and finds herself in the keep of an enticing Highlander. This Highlander, as handsome as he may be, has serious economic troubles, and only a miracle can save him. But perhaps one's answer is closer than he thinks. How will he help her face the past that is haunting her? And how will she save him?
This is the story of Gale, an adventurous English lady who runs away to escape her murderous mother and finds herself in the company of an alluring Highlander. There she is called to change her ways, and he helps her see the world from a different point of view. But her past is catching up with her. How will she elude her mother? And will this be the only obstacle in their relationship?
