Romance in the misty Highlands...

 

Moy Hall, Inverness. Two weeks earlier…

 

There was nothing in the world that could stop Kathleen Mackintosh from getting what she wanted—nothing, perhaps, other than her parents’ stubbornness.

How long had she spent in that room fighting with them? How many times had they gone through the same thing, circling the topic again and again? By now, she was exhausted, desperate to find a solution, but while she was trying to work on one, her parents simply refused to even listen.

“Fenella is me best friend!” she reminded them, not for the first time that day. It was a point she had repeated time and time again ever since the very start of their argument, only to be ignored every single time. “If I dinnae go tae her weddin’, then who will?”

“Her other friends,” her father said, entirely unaffected by Kathleen’s ceaseless pleas. Those who knew them both often liked to joke that she had inherited not only her father’s looks, with her blue eyes and pale complexion, but also his obstinacy and his single-minded desire to do as he pleased. “Surely, the lass has other friends than ye.”

Of course, she did. Fenella was a lovely young woman, kind and full of warmth, so people flocked to her, just like Kathleen had. And yet, none of them were as close to her as Kathleen and none of them could be there for her like she could at such a difficult time.

Because it was a tragedy. Never before in her life had Kathleen felt the ripples of another’s despair as much as when she read Fenella’s letter inviting her and her family to her wedding. The first piece of paper she had unfolded was nothing but an invitation. It was lavish and written in a loopy script, just as one would expect from the daughter of Laird Stewart of Appin. The second paper, tucked carefully among the folds, was a letter addressed to her, telling Kathleen of Fenella’s feelings regarding this marriage alliance—and they were anything but positive.

Kathleen wanted to be there for her; she was going to do anything it took to make it to Castle Stalker.

If only me parents would understand!

Her father’s small study felt suffocating as she paced back and forth, her footsteps dampened by the plush carpet under her feet. As the advisor of his brother, Laird Alec Mackintosh, her father spent most of his time in that cramped room, behind his large oak desk. Kathleen, too, had spent many of her days there as a child. She used to spend her evenings buried in the stacks of books even when she couldn’t read them. And later, once she could, she did not care for their contents, as most of them had to do with war and clan matters. Sometimes, she would sit by his feet and listen idly as he and her uncle discussed their days over a cup of wine.

But those days were long gone. Now, at twenty-three years of age, it had been almost a decade since she had stopped sitting by his feet and had started to stand before him, arms crossed, arguing with him instead.

Why must we always argue? This is such a simple thing!

Even if they didn’t want to attend the wedding, then surely, they could send Kathleen. If anything, that would be the proper thing to do; someone from Clan Mackintosh had to be there, considering that the Stewarts were their close allies.

“Kathleen, be reasonable,” her mother, Ilyssa, said from where she stood by her father’s side like a sentinel. Her hand rested on the back of her father’s chair in that way it always did when they were trying to present a united front to her. “We are at war. We cannae simply leave the castle when we are at war. And ye most certainly cannae go on yer own. The Campbells willnae hesitate tae have ye hanged if ye fall in their hands. Ye ken they crave tae solidify the Campbells as the most powerful clan in the Highlands.”

“We’re nae at war,” Kathleen said with a roll of her eyes.

“We very well could be soon,” her father said and the serious tone he assumed was enough to make her snap her mouth shut.

Kathleen had never experienced war in her lifetime. Skirmishes, yes, and conflicts that seemed like they could lead to war if the clans involved did not proceed with care, but never a war. She had seen other clans ravaged by it, though. She had seen the effects it could have, even if she had never experienced it herself.

And she knew it was no laughing matter.

“Our forces are risin’, but that only means our enemies are more eager than ever tae strike,” her father continued, tone dripping with bitterness. “The Campbells want tae eradicate Jacobite influence. I cannae explain tae ye the danger ye will face if ye leave these walls. It’s safe here, in the castle. Nay one in the family will go anywhere. All o’ us are stayin’ right where we are whether ye like it or nae, lass, an’ I willnae hear another word on the matter!”

“But—”

“I said nae another word!”

“But Faither—”

“Quiet!”

“Nay!” Kathleen shouted, louder than her father so that she would be heard over him even if he continued to try and silence her. “Why will ye nae even listen tae me? I understand! I understand it is dangerous but Fenella needs me! Here! See fer yerself.”

As she spoke, she tossed the bunched-up letter, which had remained crumpled in her hand ever since she had read it, onto her father’s desk. With a sigh, her father reached for it and read it silently, her mother doing the same over his shoulder.

When he placed it back down, he rubbed a hand wearily over his face and then up his short, golden hair. Her mother sighed, shaking her head ever so slightly, the movement almost imperceptible.

“Poor lass,” she said. “Alas, she isnae the first or the last, but at least she has her family. Dinnae fash, Kathleen. Fenella will be fine.”

“Ye dinnae ken that,” said Kathleen through gritted teeth. Her mother had been lucky enough to wed a man like her father, but not everyone had the same luck. While she didn’t know the man Fenella was about to wed, she also wouldn’t be surprised if he was unkind or even cruel to her.

Drawing in a deep breath, Kathleen made her way to the small window by her father’s desk and gazed outside at the Mackintosh lands that stretched under the hill where the castle stood. The frost had not yet begun to thaw and the sky was the steel gray of a sword, the chilly air as sharp as its blade. It was as if the war her parents feared so terribly was being foretold. It was as if the land itself was preparing for it.

“I’m nae askin’ ye tae go alone,” Kathleen said, her gaze never leaving the sprawling valley outside. “If anythin’, I expected that everyone would wish tae come. The Stewarts are our allies. Why would ye nae wish tae come with me?”

“We cannae leave the castle unprotected,” her father pointed out. “The Stewarts are our allies, aye, but they also understand that, if it truly comes to war, one cannae abandon one’s home.”

“Kieran an’ Devon, then,” said Kathleen in an attempt to bargain with her father. “They could accompany me.”

Her cousins were capable warriors and she had no doubt they could protect her from any harm that could befall her on their way. They would be an important asset to the clan in case of war, but surely, her father and her uncle could spare them for a few days. Just long enough for them to head to Clan Stewart, attend the wedding, and come back.

“Dae ye nae listen tae anythin’ I am sayin’?” her father demanded, his head falling back as his hand curled into a tight fist where it rested on the desk among a mess of documents. “Alec willnae let his lads go anywhere when the clan is under threat. An’ I willnae let ye leave this castle anyway. Even if fer now there are only threats, and nay serious actions are being taken. I’m nae takin’ any chances.”

“It is only fer two weeks!” Kathleen said, her head whipping around to stare at her father in disbelief. “An’ most o’ those days, I’ll be in Castle Stalker, well away from harm!”

There was no safer place for her to be than Castle Stalker. From her previous visits there, Kathleen had seen the natural fortification of the keep, which stood on a tidal islet. When the tide was high, no invading army could cross—not without boats, at least, and no one would be foolish enough to do such a thing. Not only that, but the Stewarts had a strong army, just as strong as Clan Mackintosh’. Her parents’ concerns were not unfounded, but they were, in her opinion, exaggerated to say the least.

“The travel tae Castle Stalker is three, four days,” her father said. He was red-faced now, the blood rushing to his head with every passing moment, the volume of his voice rising along with it. “That is plenty o’ time fer ye tae encounter someone from Clan Campbell an’ if ye dae, then ye’re dead. They ken who we are. One look at ye an’ they’ll ken ye’re me daughter.”

“Bran,” her mother said, the hand that rested on the back of the chair now moving to her father’s shoulder. “Calm yerself.”

“How can I calm meself?” her father demanded. “She’s just like ye, Ilyssa. Too… too free-spirited!”

“Ach, but ye like that about me,” her mother said with a small smile, one her father easily returned, only for Kathleen to roll her eyes at them.

“So it is fine fer maither tae be like this, but nae fer me?”

In Kathleen’s mind, that was a fair question, but it didn’t seem to be so for her father. He gave her an unimpressed look, one that only served to infuriate her even more, while her mother took on that air of wisdom—only to say the one thing Kathleen was tired of hearing.

“Ye’re our daughter,” her mother said softly, leaving her father’s side to walk around the desk and approach her. She wrapped her fingers around her arm and pulled her into an embrace, one Kathleen returned reluctantly. “Once ye have yer own bairns, ye will understand why we fear fer ye so.”

She didn’t have children and so she could not argue with that logic, but she knew it to be false. It was one thing to care about one’s child, to want to keep it safe, and it was another to hold it imprisoned in a keep out of fear.

Kathleen couldn’t argue with either of them any longer, though. Sooner or later, her parents would put an end to the conversation, even if it remained unresolved. They had never listened, and she doubted that they would start to listen now.

With a deep sigh, Kathleen sagged in her mother’s arms, letting her eyes fall shut. “Alright,” she said. “Alright, I will write tae Fenella.”

But nae tae tell her I willnae be attendin’ the weddin’. They can say what they want. I will be by her side.

 

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Chapter One

Moy Hall, Inverness

March, 1714

Kathleen’s boots sank into muddy patches of earth as she snuck around the castle grounds. It had rained earlier that day, leaving the land moist and soft, which only served to make the silent, stealthy trek to the stables even harder for her.

It didn’t help that she had to carry everything she would need in one oversized bag. Both her travels and her stay in Castle Stalker would be short, but she would need several changes of clothes and even more accessories for her looks. A lady of her rank could not be seen in any state other than perfection, especially for an event as important as a wedding.

The early morning air was crisp and cold, the chill stinging her face. Her fingers were already frozen and with her free had, she tightened her wool cloak around her shoulders, holding the fabric tightly. Every step she took was laborious. Not only because of the weight of her bag, but also because she had to be on alert, watching carefully around her for any sign of guards.

If they caught her, they were bound to take her straight to her father, and when he found out that she had left home against his explicit orders to remain where she was, he would not allow her to leave Moy Hall for the rest of her life.

But it was a risk she had to take. Her best friend, Fenella, needed her more than ever, and Kathleen refused to deny her her presence when she knew how much it would help her. The letter she had received from her a week prior spoke of a terrible fate—an unwanted marriage, an unloving husband, a lifetime of torment ahead of her. Ignoring the risks of travel to make sure she was there for a friend was only natural for Kathleen.

She had fought tooth and nail to be heard before deciding to leave secretly. She had tried to reason with her parents, to explain to them that Fenella needed her at her wedding, but they had refused to allow her to go. Even when Kathleen had asked for guards, pointing out that she would be safe with them, her parents had not given in. Clan Campbell was preparing for war, they had told her. there was a good chance they would soon attack, and every Mackintosh had to be in the safety of the keep when that happened.

Naturally, Kathleen hadn’t listened, for she was determined to go help her friend.

Nothing but the last light of the moon was there to guide her as she walked towards the stables. Soon, the flicker of dawn would wash over the castle and it would be impossible to hide from prying eyes. She had to leave as soon as possible, before she was discovered.

Just as she rounded the corner in the narrow path that led to the stables, a hand shot out and grabbed her, and Kathleen couldn’t help but yelp. She muffled the sound with a hand over her mouth, but it was already too late—not only had she been caught, but the sound rang out across the gardens before she had managed to cover her mouth.

“Where dae ye think ye’re goin’?”

The voice was painfully familiar and Kathleen didn’t need to turn around to know who her captor was, once the first wave of her panic had subsided. Her heart was still thundering in her chest, her hands shaking from the fear that she had been discovered, and she couldn’t help but look around her for a moment to see if anyone else had heard her.

Only once she determined there was no one else around did she manage to breathe again. With a roll of her eyes, she smacked Devon’s hand off her and turned to face him, her features twisting with indignation.

“What are ye daein’?” she demanded, giving him another push for good measure. “Ye gave me a fright, ye fool!”

In the dim light of the moon, Devon was little more than a shadow. Only his blond hair shone in the moonlight, but she could tell he was terribly pleased by the sound of his laughter.

“Did I scare ye?” Devon asked, and there was no hint of regret in his voice.

“O’ course ye did!” Kathleen hissed. “It isnae funny.”

“I disagree,” said Devon. With a satisfied smile that was barely visible in the dark, he began to walk backwards towards the stables, nodding in their direction. In an affected voice, he said, “Come. Yer steed is prepared fer ye, me lady.”

It had been a struggle to convince Devon and Kieran to help her with this. At first, she had had no intention of asking for their assistance, but it wasn’t long before the two of them found out about her plan, when she had been making arrangements with the stable boy regarding her horse. Kathleen had narrowly escaped a terrible fate—Kieran revealing everything to her father out of concern for her well-being. Convincing the ever-serious Kieran that it was something she had to do had been far from an easy task. If anything, she suspected the trip in itself would be easier than convincing them to let her go to Castle Stalker.

With Clan Campbell threatening war against Clan Mackintosh, everyone in Moy Hall was on high alert. No one was supposed to leave the keep, not even for an event such as an allied clan’s wedding, and so when Kathleen had received Fenella’s invitation—along with the letter she had secretly folded within it, which was meant just for her—she had known her parents would never allow it. So, in the end, she did what had to be done.

If she had to do it alone, then so be.

Kieran and Devon had agreed to help her, preparing her horse for her and sneaking her out of the castle so she could depart undetected.

Once in the stables, Kathleen blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light of the torches that lined the walls. Kieran was already there, finalizing the last preparations and ensuring the saddle was properly placed on the horse.

Kieran and Devon were identical twins. Had it not been for the different way they wore their hair—Devon’s longer and messy, always tangled from the wind, while Kieran’s was shorter and neatly tied back at all times—Kathleen doubted anyone would be able to tell them apart unless they opened their mouths.

“Are ye both out o’ yer minds?” Kieran asked in that smooth baritone voice of his. Frazzled, he stomped over to them and pointed an accusatory finger at them both. “Dae ye ken what will happen if anyone finds out we’re daein’ this?”

“They’ll find out eventually,” Devon said with a small shrug, entirely unconcerned.

“It was his fault!” Kathleen pointed out. “Devon’s the one who scared me!”

“Ye’re actin’ like a pair o’ bairns,” said Kieran. “I dinnae even ken why I agreed tae this.”

“Because even when ye complain, ye always wish tae help,” Kathleen pointed out.

Kieran didn’t try to deny that, though he rolled his eyes as if to protest. He really did simply enjoy complaining. Silently, he held out his hand for Kathleen to hand him her bag and once she did, he strapped it on the saddle.

“Remember… we’re only allowin’ ye tae dae this under the stipulation that ye send us a letter every other day,” Kieran said sternly. For someone who was only two years older than her, he could certainly assume a fatherly air with frightening ease. “If we dinnae receive one, we will come after ye.”

“Then maybe ye can come tae the weddin’ too!” Kathleen teased, but while as Devon snorted with mirth, Kieran gave her no reaction.

“This isnae a laughin’ matter,” he said.

Devon cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to hide his grin. After a few moments, though, he appeared a little more serious, a little more restrained.

“Kieran is right,” he told Kathleen. “Ye should be careful. But it isnae as though ye’re walkin’ intae a death trap!”

“Perhaps it isnae a death trap, but it isnae safe either,” Kieran said flatly.

“Ach, we’ve done much worse than this,” said Devon. “Remember the time when we snuck out o’ the castle an’ went tae that tavern—”

“I think that’s enough!” Kieran exclaimed, slapping a hand over Devon’s mouth, much to Kathleen’s chagrin. She would have like to have known what had happened in that tavern, but chances were, they would never tell her.

At least Kieran wouldn’t—if she played her cards right, maybe she could yet get the truth out of Devon when she returned.

Both Devon and Kathleen struggled to stifle their giggles as Kieran shook his head in disappointment. After a moment of hesitation, when Kathleen wondered if she was doing the right thing after all, she hugged them both and then took the horse’s reins from Kieran, ready to start her little adventure.

Sneaking her out of the castle was no easy task, as there were guards everywhere, but naturally, all the guards knew Kieran and Devon well. And with Devon’s easy charm and friendliness, they slipped past even the most suspicious of them. By the time they made it to the rear gate of the castle, Kathleen’s heart was beating fast, her eyes searching for any signs of anything or anyone who could prevent her from leaving. The closer she got to her freedom, the more she feared that it would be snatched right out of her hands. In the end, though, no one stopped her.

After saying her goodbyes to her cousins and promising them once again that she would write to them every other day, she stepped out of the castle walls and into the wilderness that stretched behind it. Castle Stalker was approximately four days’ worth of riding away, and Kathleen was determined to make the most of it, travelling as fast as she could.

Dawn broke in the distance as she rode away from the castle, the imposing building getting smaller and smaller over her shoulder as she left it behind. A dull blue glow fell over the land—the first light of the day as cold and biting as the wind. Around her, there were nothing but trees and open land. The first birdsong of the morning reached her ears and for the first time in days, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps her plan would work out, after all.

An hour had passed by the time she couldn’t bear the silence anymore. The dull dawn had turned into an even duller day, the sky gray and domed with clouds. The emptiness all around her gave her no comfort. She had never travelled alone before—she had never even been this alone in her life.

Kathleen began to hum a song to herself, one that her mother had sang to her when she was a child. It helped a little; she didn’t feel so alone, so isolated from the rest of the world.

But then, just as she took a turn on the path, the thunderous sound of hooves echoed all around her. Wide-eyed, Kathleen looked frantically around her to locate the source of the sound, though she couldn’t see any signs of danger—not until three men rushed out of the treeline just ahead of her, heading straight towards her.

And in that moment, she understood that being all alone on that path would have been a blessing.

Chapter Two

Kathleen’s shriek pierced the morning air like a bell announcing war.

In an instant, the three men had gathered around her, surrounding her from all sides. Two of them jumped off the horses as the last one reached for her, pushing her off her saddle just before she had the chance to escape.

Had she managed to stay on her horse, perhaps she could have fled. Now, though, she had no chance of escape.

All the men were dressed in the blue and green shades of Clan Campbell—colors familiar to her and anyone in those parts, as there was no greater enemy to the Mackintosh Clan.

Her parents had been right. The danger was more real, more palpable than she could have ever imagined. And now that she had fled the castle without anyone knowing, there was no one there to save her.

Even as Kathleen was being dragged by the arm, she didn’t stop putting up a fight. When her captor tried to hold her still, she kicked at him and thrashed in his grip, wild and furious. Maybe if there had only been one man, she would have managed to escape him all on her own with how willing she was to fight, her desire to flee stronger than any lack of strength or skill. But with three men against her, there was nothing she could do other than scream and kick uselessly at them, only prolonging the inevitable.

Frustrated as he was from her fighting, one of the men who were trying to control her punched Kathleen straight across the cheek, so hard that her head whipped to the side with frightening speed. Pain exploded all over the side of her face—a blinding pain that made her ears ring and her head spin, her vision turning to black for a few moments.

And that was why the strange voice was a surprise as it echoed behind her, announcing the arrival of another man.

“Ye wish tae fight?” he called just as he jumped off his horse and balled up his fists, stomping over to the three men. “Then leave the lass an’ fight me.”

The man holding her didn’t move, but the other two were quick to go to him, meeting him halfway. With her vision restored, Kathleen watched in horror as a fight erupted among them, the pain that still lingered disorienting her and making it difficult to keep track of the men.

The first blow came from the larger of the two, a young man with pale eyes and a red face, his mouth twisted with effort. The strange man avoided his fist, lunging to the side, and swiftly delivered a blow of his own, one that caught the man in the stomach.

Just as Kathleen thought it was going to be a fist fight, though, the other man pulled out a small blade and immediately, his fellow soldier did the same. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, the stranger took a few steps back from them to do the same, grabbing his dirk from where it was strapped around his waist, fingers wrapping tightly around the hilt.

The more the pain subsided and clarity returned, the more Kathleen’s desire to fight back grew. Soon, she was thrashing in her captor’s grip once more, kicking and twisting as she tried to escape his grasp.

She didn’t rest for a moment, at least not until she heard a loud thud and saw that the stranger had rendered one of the Campbell men unconscious, a small cloud of dust rising around his body as he hit the ground.

Stunned, Kathleen watched as he did quick work of the second man, rendering him unconscious with a single punch across the face. And then, once he too was laying on the ground next to his friend, he turned his sights to the man holding her.

Slowly, he let go of her, raising up his hands as if in surrender. Now that she was free, Kathleen wasted no time before she ran as far from them as she could—but not far enough to escape entirely.

For a moment, the two of them simply stared at each other. The stranger narrowed his eyes at the Campbell soldier, as if suspicious of his intentions. In the end, his suspicion was justified, as the man rushed towards him, fists balled up and ready for a fight.

With a feint to the left, the stranger let him run right past him before he spun around and kicked him. The force of his kick was strong enough to throw the man off-balance, making him fall to the ground, and the stranger wasted no time before he hit him on the back of the head as well, making sure he wouldn’t move before he pushed himself back up to his feet.

Standing above them, the stranger’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. With the men unmoving on the ground, he turned his sights on Kathleen.

I should have fled.

What if he, too, wanted something from her? What if he had only saved her from those men to have his way with her or because he wanted to rob her?

He was… handsome. Very handsome. She wanted to keep her mind on alert but he was proving to be distracting.

It took her a few moments to realize the wheezing sound filling her ears was coming from her own chest as she tried—and failed—to breathe. She slid down to the ground, curling up on a patch of green grass as she tried to catch her breath, but no matter what she did, she did not seem able to draw in enough air.

When the stranger approached her, her fear bubbled over.

“It’s alright,” he promised. “I willnae hurt ye. I promise.”

“Who are ye?” she demanded.

“Me name’s Blaine,” he said. “I was headin’ down tae the valley an’ saw ye get attacked, so I thought I’d help ye.”

“Why?”

Blaine frowned, as if he didn’t understand the question. “Well… because ye were in danger. I wished tae help.”

Kathleen observed him with narrowed eyes, taking in every detail of his face—the deep green eyes that seemed to draw one’s attention immediately, the sharp lines of his jaw and his nose, the dark strands of hair that now fell over his forehead, tousled after the fight.

He was the most handsome man Kathleen had ever seen, and warmth spread over her body at the sight of him. Her cheeks heated and she couldn’t help but drop her gaze, her embarrassment getting the better of her.

It wasn’t often that she was embarrassed, but she wasn’t knowledgeable in the ways of men and women.

Blaine had saved her life.

He is not only handsome, but also me savior.

However, she was still a little apprehensive; how could she not be? He was a complete stranger to her. But when he offered his hand to her to help her up, she accepted it, standing to her feet.

“Thank ye,” she said, her voice thin but unwavering as the first wave of shock began to subside. Absentmindedly, she began to dust herself, trying to get all the dirt off her thick cloak in vain, just to distract herself from the terror of her recent experience.

“Come,” Blaine said gently, nodding towards his horse, which had obediently stayed nearby, munching on a bit of grass. “I have some ointment fer that cut on yer cheek.”

“Ach! Is it very bad?”

“The cut?” Blaine asked with a frown. Hesitantly, he reached for her and Kathleen swiftly pulled back at first, frightened. Then, she froze, her eyes staring up at him, her rosy lips parted ever so slightly as he pushed a strand of her hair back to reveal her cheek. “It isnae very bad. It will heal in nay time.”

For a moment, she said nothing. She only stared at him in silence, breath catching in her throat.

No one had ever touched her like that before. No man had ever gone so close, and to have a stranger displaying such intimate tenderness towards her now brought her mind to a complete halt.

When Blaine spoke again, it took Kathleen a few seconds to understand what he was saying.

“What’s a lass like ye daein’ alone in the woods?” Blaine asked.

“I’m… travelin’,” she said, a little hesitantly. She didn’t know just how much she should tell this man when she knew nothing about him at all. “I’m goin’ tae a weddin’.”

“A weddin’, is it?” Blaine asked. “Alone?”

Kathleen looked around her as if searching for someone else.

“Are me guards nae here?”

It seemed to take Blaine a few moments to realize she was joking, but once he did, he chuckled softly. Before they could say anything else, though, a grunt came from the ground near them and one of the men began to stir. There was no time for talking. They had to get out of there as soon as possible.

“We must go,” he said. “Can ye get on yer horse or dae ye need help?”

Kathleen’s only answer was an amused smirk as she ran to her horse and jumped on with ease and the kind of grace that came from a lifetime of practice. Behind her, Blaine chuckled again, shaking his head as he headed to his own horse, the two of them rushing down the path.

After a few minutes of riding, she called out over the wind, “Kathleen.”

“What?” Blaine called back.

“Me name,” she said, “is Kathleen.”

Blaine smiled. “Pleased tae make yer acquaintance, Kathleen.”