‘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.
Don’t miss your link for the whole series at the end of the preview.
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?
He was now right in front of her, his arms coming out to pull her close. “I want nay one but ye,” he told her.
When her own words of love came out of her mouth, Bhaltair lost all thoughts except for being with her. He reached for her and kissed her wildly, no longer gentle, backing her up against the wall and crowding her into the space. She tasted like heaven, her soft tongue gliding along his own, little moans sounding into his mouth. His hands roamed over her soft, amazing body, and he lifted her skirts, reached down and lifted her legs so that they wrapped around her waist. He groaned as he pressed his already hardened length against the soft place between her thighs.
When she said, ‘please’, he nearly fell apart, but he gripped her bare buttocks tighter, wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside her.
“Dear God, I have wanted ye fer so long, Étaín. I have thought about this body fer longer than I can remember, bein’ inside ye, listenin’ tae yer cries of pleasure in me ear, but…” he paused, still breathing hard. “Are ye certain?” he asked.
When she responded in kind, he grinned at her, sliding his hand under her skirts where he sucked in a breath when he found her wet folds.
“Dear God, ye are so wet, lass,” he told her, his fingers sliding along her, making little whimpers come out of her mouth. It only made him harder. “Wet fer me. When ye are ready like this, it will be easier fer me tae slide inside ye and take ye just as ye want tae be taken.”
He loved the shocked look on her face, and when her mouth opened, he couldn’t resist taking her mouth again, kissing her as his fingers moved against her. She came apart with a few strokes of his thumb, and he swallowed her moans, now needing to be inside her even more. He pushed a finger inside her, drawing out her orgasm before he pushed in.
“It may hurt a little. Ye must be prepared.” He watched her face as he spread her open bit by bit, amazed that he was here now, with her, doing this.
When she leaned her head back against the wall, he took his chance to kiss the soft skin of her neck, licking and kissing it, biting playfully along the wall. Étaín was everything he had ever wanted, and he was getting drunk off her.
“Yer mouth is far too good,” she told him breathlessly, and he chuckled, looking down at her again.
Her hands moved to his shoulders, and she gasped when he thrust deeper with his fingers. “Aye, I am prepared. Anythin’ fer ye, Bhaltair, and it willnae hurt fer long. I ken that at least.”
Grinning, he removed his fingers, and he took them into his mouth. He loved the look on her face as he sucked her sweet juices from his fingers before he moved his hands to his kilt, lifting it up so that he could free himself.
“I cannae get enough of yer taste, me love,” he said, and then he was there at her entrance, sliding his length up and down her, making her whimper again.
“Please,” she said, her fingers pressing into his back, her hips moving forward until he couldn’t take it anymore.
He cursed as he pressed inside her, bit by bit. It was like he’d gone to heaven the way her sheath clamped around him tightly, softly. His hands held her waist to keep her steady as he thrust in once hard, breaking past the barrier that had kept her innocent. He paused, leaning forward so that his head was against hers.
“Are ye all right?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Aye. Ye are so big. Dinnae stop.”
He didn’t need to hear anymore. He angled her hips a bit and pulled out before he thrust once more. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment as he savored the pleasure of it. Swearing aloud, he started to move faster, staring down into her eyes as he took her against the wall, wanting this like he had wanted nothing else in his life.
When she tightened her legs around him, he groaned aloud, and then he slowly lifted her thighs a bit higher.
“Dae ye want me deeper?” he asked against her ear before he drew it into his teeth.
“Aye!” she cried, and Bhaltair was lost.
He lifted her thighs and placed his hands under her knees to push them even higher as he thrust faster. She gasped, her eyes widening, and he could feel himself hardening even more at the depth he found inside her.
He could see and feel her pleasure building, her body slowly clamping around his every thrust into her hot, sweet, depths. He took one hand and rubbed against her once more, and she screamed, leaning her head back against the wall and coming, her body shaking all around him.
“Shite!” he said under his breath, for his own pleasure was coming soon.
With Étaín coming all over his length, he knew he would not last. After a few more thrusts, he was gone too, pressing deeply inside her as he spilled into her, breathing hard against her neck and holding her tightly against him.
“Dear God,” he said, as they shook together, still pressed tightly against the wall.
After a few moments, he leaned back to look down at her, and he took her mouth again. He had never felt such pleasure, and he knew in his soul that he never would never with anyone else.
Seduced by the Highlander’s Kiss – Prologue Bonus Scene
“Shite!” Étaín’s new lady’s maid Elspeth cursed again, slamming her hand on the table as she laid the cards down.
Étaín bit her lip, trying not to laugh. She knew it was rather smug of her, but it always felt good to beat someone in cards. This was a pursuit she’d practiced for years. It gave her joy, focus, and something to look forward to.
“Why dae ye win all the time?” Elspeth asked her, grumbling as Étaín picked up the cards and shuffled them again.
“I told ye that I have practiced fer a long time. It is a hobby of mine.”
Beth narrowed her eyes at her. “A strange hobby fer a proper young lady.”
Étaín laughed. She had not laughed so heartily for some time. But Elspeth, young and vibrant and full of energy was just what she needed, especially now that her old lady’s maid Amelia would be returning home, nearly full to bursting with a baby in her belly. Elspeth had been Líadan’s lady’s maid before Líadan left, full of love and happiness for the future.
“Nay, nay, I willnae be drawn intae yer criticism,” Étaín said as she shuffled the cards, and she glanced up at Elspeth. “Another round?”
“Ha!” Elspeth said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. She shook her head. “I think I have learned me lesson. Ye have changed greatly in the past few years. I would never have expected ye tae take up such a hobby.”
“Ye are only angry because I keep winnin’,” Étaín said, and Elspeth laughed.
“Aye, ye have the right of it of course.”
“What dae ye think, Amelia?”
Her cheerful lady’s maid was rubbing her belly as she looked on at the two of them.
“I think that it is very entertainin’ tae watch Elspeth get intae such a stew.”
At Elspeth’s outraged gasp, the other two ladies chuckled heartily.
“Goodness, I have nae a friend in me midst!” Elspeth threw up her arms.
“So, ye ken what ye have tae dae,” Étaín reminded her, still shuffling the cards in her hands.
The action soothed her, and it drew her mind away from things she did not wish to think of.
Elspeth groaned. “But Cook is furious at me fer stealin’ cake the last time!”
“Rules are rules,” Amelia said. “And I am here full of a child and am in desperate need of cake.”
“And what of the mead?” Étaín reminded her. “Be sure tae get some of that as well.”
“Och, but ye will have tae distract that handsome braither of yers.”
Elspeth’s eyes flashed and Étaín rolled her eyes. “I wonder why he keeps all the good mead fer himself in his study? It is nae as if he doesnae allow me tae drink,” Étaín thought aloud.
Both she and Elspeth reluctantly got to their feet ready to go complete their tasks when Amelia made a little surprised sound in her throat, and they both turned to look at her. She had both hands pressing to her belly, and her eyes were wide.
Étaín was about to call for someone when Amelia waved to them. “Come now, come and feel the kick!” she cried, and the two young ladies rushed over to her to press their hands against her firm belly.
She and Elspeth locked eyes across Amelia’s stomach, feeling little thumps against their hands. “Incredible!” Elspeth said with a big smile.
“He feels as though he will be a very strong boy,” Étaín said.
“Och, it could be a strong lass too,” Amelia reminded her, bringing out a smile on her face.
“True enough.” The young ladies sat back down and Elspeth made a face.
“Étaín, I have an idea. Let us wait a bit, and we can play again. Then, I will distract Kaden, and ye will go and get the cake if ye lose.”
At the table, Étaín picked up the cards and shuffled them again, shrugging one shoulder. “If ye think ye have a chance at beatin’ me again,” she said.
She passed out the cards, and then she turned to Amelia, who was smiling lovingly down at her stomach. “Let me ask ye somethin’, Amelia,” she said suddenly surprising even herself that the question was about to come out of her mouth. “Ye love yer husband, but how did ye ken?”
“What dae ye mean?” Amelia asked with a twinkle in her eye.
Étaín tried not to blush too heavily. She finished passing out the cards, and then she picked hers up in her hand. She shrugged again.
“I mean how did ye ken that it was true love? That ye were really in love?”
Love had so often been on her mind in the past years, and yet she felt a fool for it being so. She had loved Bhaltair MacThomas for longer than she could remember. And five years ago, like a fool, she had confessed it to him at the riverside, when he was practically naked and she but a young girl. He had rejected her soundly and then disappeared. She’d never forgotten it, and yet those strange feelings remained.
“Och, there is nae a feelin’ like it,” Amelia said, getting a distant look in her eyes. There is such a feeling in yer stomach, and a flutter in yer heart, and ye can only think of that person. That was how I kenned. That I thought of him above all others. Ye shall have that feelin’ someday, lass.” Amelia winked, and Étaín looked down at her cards.
They began to play, but she could barely keep her mind on what was going on. She hardly noticed what cards she put down.
“I dinnae think so. I think I will marry a borin’ Highlander fer an alliance or some nonsense,” she said forlornly as she laid another card.
Bhaltair was far too good for her. He was handsome, strong, a skilled soldier, and every woman who had eyes wished for him to look at her. He had never even thought of her in any way other than his friend’s little sister.
He had made that clear enough five years ago.
She hadn’t told anyone since, and she’d held onto that embarrassing secret, wishing she could forget about it, wishing she could forget about him.
When she heard Elspeth scream, she jumped and turned to her, pulled out of her forlorn reverie.
“What is it?”
Elspeth was pointing at the cards on the table and laughing. “Ha! I kenned that I would win, and I have! Now, ye must be the one tae go and get the cake!”
Étaín stared down in shock at the cards. She’d practically forgotten they’d been playing, and so Elspeth had won while she’d been distracted. Amelia leaned forward and peered at the cards before turning to Étaín.
“What’s this?” She crossed her arms. “What were ye thinkin’ about that had ye so distracted, lass?”
Étaín colored, and she stammered when Elspeth cut in.
“What dae ye mean? I am perfectly capable of winnin’ without Étaín bein’ distracted!” Elspeth complained.
Étaín grinned. She looked between them, and she knew that she could not tell them. No, that secret she would take to her grave. It would never come out anyway, for Bhaltair had disappeared, left his best friend and all of them without telling them where he was.
When she said nothing, Elspeth lifted a brow. “I think I am owed a secret instead of cake. So then, what were ye thinkin’ about? Even if I dinnae need ye tae be distracted tae win…”
Chuckling, Étaín came up with something. “I was just thinkin’ about how I wish tae find a man like Amelia talks about, someone who makes me heart flutter.”
“Och, what a lovely thing tae think of,” Amelia said, but Elspeth didn’t look too convinced.
The problem was that she’d already found him. She knew a man who made her heart flutter, but what she’d never expected was for him to be the man she also despised the most.
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Prologue
July, 1647
A small river near Stuart Castle, Scotland
Lady Étaín Stuart was old enough now to do such a thing, she was sure of it. On her last birthday she had turned eighteen, and now was her chance, although she wasn’t sure that sneaking after a man as he went swimming in the river was exactly normal. Or in fact, something that a grown woman ought to do. But she wanted to be alone with him, and this was the best solution she could think of.
Étaín was desperate for the chance to speak to Bhaltair MacThomas alone and without her brother, Kaden, getting in the way. And of course, without her sister, Líadan, trying to tell her to do the things that girls ought to do instead of gawking at Bhaltair. But they were both back in the castle, and she had followed Bhaltair as he crept out from the keep to swim in the river. She heard his splash in the cool water before she saw him. She had hidden herself well enough in the bushes, in her usual spot.
It was not the first time she’d followed him to his favorite swimming spot. She had done so countless other times, she thought to herself with embarrassment. It was not to gawk at his strong, naked body, but rather that she ached to join him in the water. Hearing him swim, she leaned aside and peeked out through the edge of the bushes to find him in the deepest part, only his head above the water, rubbing his hands through his long, dark hair. His silver necklace gleamed around his neck, and yet again, Étaín felt her mouth go dry at the handsome sight of him.
Och, why can I nae be bold enough tae go and swim with him? Why can I nae simply say what I am feelin’ tae him?
But she did not know how to swim, and she feared that he would laugh at her if she tried. Not only that, but around Bhaltair, she became even more shy than her usual self. She bumbled and got sweaty, her cheeks reddening to an embarrassing intensity. They were all the symptoms of love; she knew that. That was what all the servant girls had told her. It was now at the point that she had to tell him.
Go and tell him. Ye are old enough. He has tae notice ye fer the grown woman ye are.
Sneaking another peek at him, she thought about all the years she’d known him. He’d been her brother’s best friend for years, so he’d known her from a young age. However, she feared that he only saw her as his friend’s little sister, although in the last few years she’d filled out in all the right places, developing a woman’s body and mind. She knew what she wanted and what she wanted was Bhaltair MacThomas.
Closing her eyes, she thought of her sister, Líadan. Líadan was the most beautiful woman in the Highlands, with stark gray hair that made people turn twice to look at her. Étaín had feared that Bhaltair would fall in love with her, but it didn’t appear he had for some inexplicable reason. They acted more as brother and sister than anything approaching lovers. She heard another splash, bringing her back to the task at hand. Pressing a hand to her chest, she counted off the stuttered beats of her heart.
Go. Tell him that ye love him and that ye want him tae kiss ye. That ye are nae a little girl anymore.
The truth was that she feared that he would laugh at her, and then she would have to run away in shame, never to speak of it again. But she could have sworn that lately he was watching her more, speaking to her more, giving her more attention than he ever had before. That was what had sparked this final visit for her to the river for her. She had thought of it all night, and now, she had to stop dreaming of him and give it her all.
Would he truly kiss her? The thought thrilled her down to her toes, and she had dreamed of it often enough. She closed her eyes. There were many boys she might kiss, but Bhaltair was the only man she wanted to be kissed by.
Turning back toward him again, she bit her lip as she watched him. She scratched at her neck when an errant branch brushed against it, and she rolled her eyes at her choice of hiding spot. She would get a rash by the end of all this, but her itching was completely forgotten when Bhaltair finally rose from the river. Her mouth fell open as she watched in slow motion as the water trailed down his hard, strong body, and he was… entirely naked!
She blinked, unsure what to do or if she should move, but she had never seen a more beautiful sight in all her life. The water slid down taught abs and over a dark thatch of hair with his manhood in the middle. She swallowed, her tongue feeling thicker than ever. She had only heard of it before, never actually seen it, and it made her mind go fuzzy, and her skin tingle. A warm liquid feeling moved in her belly and even lower.
He walked onto the bank and reached for his clothes. She had never seen him fully naked before, always turning away when he was getting out so that he wouldn’t see her. But now, she was just sitting there watching him, gaping at him, and she realized how it would look if he discovered her.
What will he think of me if he hears or sees me watchin’ him?
With that terrifying thought on her mind, Étaín turned away quickly, and tried to get to her feet. But in her hurry and worried frenzy, she fell, making a large sound in the bushes that she was sure he heard. She sat back down, closing her eyes, hoping against hope that he would presume it was an animal running through the brush. But then her heart fluttered when she heard the sound of his footsteps running toward where she sat in embarrassed hiding.
In the name of the wee man!
And when she slowly opened her eyes, she saw him peering over her, still shirtless, but now in his trews.
Thank the gods!
“Étaín?” he asked. “What in God’s name are ye daein’ here?”
What indeed?
Her mouth tried to form words, but nothing came out, and with a worried look on his handsome face, Bhaltair leaned down, picked her up in his arms, and carried her toward the edge of the river. Étaín had no idea what to do. She had never been in his arms before, and it was just as intoxicating as she’d expected it to be: warm, safe, secure and incredibly exciting. He set her down on a boulder not far from the water’s edge, and then he knelt in front of her, taking her hand.
“Are ye all right? Did ye faint?” he asked, his dark brown eyes sparkling with concern.
She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen anything as beautiful as a wet Bhaltair MacThomas, his hair falling past his shoulders, drips in his beard making it sparkle in the afternoon sun.
“Och, nay,” she said finally, able to muster up at least a few words. “Ye ken me. I dinnae faint.”
She chuckled, and he laughed as well, his smile making her heart skip a beat, that warm liquid feeling moving even lower. She had felt his skin under her palms, his bare skin. It was something she’d not expected to experience and it only made her feel bolder.
“That’s true.” He reached over and pulled on a shirt, and she tried her best to keep her eyes turned away. “So then, what are ye daein’ here?”
Clearing her throat, she tried to give herself a few more seconds to think of a reasonable excuse.
“Well, I—” She began, hating the way that she could barely think straight, barely speak whenever she was around him.
She had been planning to confess her true feelings, but now he certainly thought her a bumbling idiot. Then he knelt down again and gave her a kind look.
“Take a breath. Try again.”
His voice was calm and gentle as it always was when he spoke to her, and she stared into his eyes as she took a deep breath and let it out. Her mind cleared, at least a little, so she simply blurted out, “I have come here, hopin’ that ye might kiss me.”
She didn’t wait to register the surprise on Bhaltair’s face before she leaned forward, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck, and placing her lips on his. Time seemed to stop almost entirely. Étaín’s heart beat nervously against her chest. She hadn’t planned to just kiss him; she had planned to talk to him, hoping that he might kiss her instead. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands moved up her shoulders, and against her mouth, his lips soft and tender. But then he quickly moved back, breathing hard, and he got to his feet, starting to pace.
He put a hand over his mouth, and then he turned to her, his eyes wide. “What are ye daein’?” he asked.
Energized by her boldness, knowing that she certainly couldn’t turn back now, Étaín stood, and she stared blankly at him. “Bhaltair, I believe that I am in love with ye. At least I ken that I feel the same way and have the same symptoms as bein’ in love. I wanted ye tae ken.”
Bhaltair paused for a moment, his hands on his hips, and then he burst into laughter. “Symptoms? Ye speak of love as if it is a disease, Étaín.”
He smiled a little, but she wanted him to be serious, to understand her words. She was not a child anymore, and she understood love, even if she didn’t exactly know how to talk about it, especially when she was about to burst from the embarrassment she was feeling.
“Perhaps I dinnae ken the right words fer it, but ye ken what I mean: the sweaty hands, the tingling feeling in me stomach.” She looked down at her hands, folding and unfolding them in her lap. She feared that it all sounded so ridiculous, and that he would laugh at her again.
But nay, ye have come fer a reason, and ye must tell him now, fer ye are already in the middle of it!
When he said nothing, she added, “Me heart skips a beat when I am around. Is that nae a sort of disease?” She looked up at him, searching his eyes for some kind of answer as nervousness consumed her. She reached out a hand for him, but he moved away. “Dae ye ken what I mean?” she asked him, noticing just how scared he looked.
Why should he look scared? It is nae as if I am tellin’ him somethin’ horrible.
Breathing out, she tried one more time to give a clearer meaning to her words. “So, I care about ye, Bhaltair, more than care. And I wonder if…” she bit her lip again, fearful of what he might say or think, “if ye might feel the same?”
Her heart was so full of hope, standing on the edge of a precipice, but then it felt as though she toppled over when Bhaltair laughed again. She had not truly understood the pain of what such a reaction would feel like, but there she was, standing right there, feeling as though she’d been stabbed in the gut. Certainly, laughter is not the response one should receive when confessing one’s love; she was sure of that.
“Ye cannae mean that, lass,” he told her, shaking his head as if speaking to a young child. “If Kaden sees us now like this, he’ll murder us both, nay doubt. It is nae only that,” he told her. “But I am ten years older than ye, and who kens when I will return from me journey tae the Lowlands.”
Étaín’s cheeks burned. She had thought she was old enough to do this now, but clearly, he thought her ridiculous. She hated his sympathetic smile, his kind eyes, the way he was trying to be soothing and sensible, when in fact he was only twisting the knife in her belly.
“Why would Kaden’s opinion matter if we truly cared fer one another?” She bit out, wanting to hope at least a little that he was only afraid of her brother and that that was why he was being so heartless.
“Étaín,” he said a little more firmly.
He touched her hand again this time, and Étaín wanted to pull away when she saw the pity in his eyes. “Ye are only a child, lass, with so much life tae live and things tae learn. What are ye thinkin’, suggestin’ somethin’ like this? There are plenty of lads yer age that would love tae have yer affections. Besides, I wouldnae want anyone tae think I am the type of man tae take advantage of so young a lass’ overtures.”
Étaín watched his face. He wore a mixture of expressions, and she could tell that he was having difficulty in saying the words. He took a breath and pressed his lips together, and then he let her hand go, turning around, pacing again.
Étaín tried to think of something to say, but no words came out, and she could feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes and thickening her throat.
Nay, ye willnae cry. Nae like the child he so clearly thinks that ye are.
“Besides,” he said, suddenly turning around to face her, “I could never be with ye: ye are inexperienced and unaware of the world around ye, expectant of things I cannae give ye… And ye are nae the type of woman I usually fall fer. Ye are so sensitive, so shy and timid. We’re nae a match, lass, we both ken that.”
As he spoke the last words, he turned his eyes away from hers, as if embarrassed by the terrible things he had just said. She thought that he had already stabbed her, but it was worse than that. She felt that life could no longer go on. She was humiliated, her cheeks warmer than they’d ever been before. She wished to melt into the ground and never be seen again. She wanted to run away, to burst into tears in her room, but she felt frozen in place.
“It will always be like ye’re me little sister. Ye are beautiful and intelligent, of course, but ye are more like family tae me. I would be grateful if ye just turn yer eyes elsewhere.”
He finally dragged his eyes to hers and swallowed. Good, she hoped he was embarrassed by his unkind words. He had gone far beyond what he had needed to say, listing her faults and the reasons that he could never love her. She clenched her jaw, keeping it tight so that he would not see the way her chin wished to tremble. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she knew they would fall quickly if she didn’t take action. So instead of waiting around to hear what other things he planned to say to her, she turned around and did the most grown-up thing she could muster: ran.
With her one hand holding her skirts, she used the other to push away branches as she raced back through the woods, tears falling down her face. She would never forget that moment, the searing pain of his rejection and insults. She would never forget the words he had spoken to her.
I could never be with ye: inexperienced, young, shy, timid, so sensitive…
They were all the things she hated about herself, and she had just heard them spoken aloud. By him. Her heart was broken, and she was angry at herself for thinking that he could possibly have had felt anything for her. It was almost as if he hated her, and as she ran home, grateful not to hear footsteps behind her, she vowed never to look Bhaltair’s way ever again. She would push him and her love from her mind forever and ever.
From this day forward, I will never show meself tae a man in such a way. Never again, will I be so insulted, and never again, will I offer me heart.
Chapter One
Stuart Castle, September, 1652
Five years later
Bhaltair MacThomas stood in front of Stuart Castle. It had been five long years since he’d set foot in front of his best friend’s home, and now he stood uncertainly outside the gates. It was early evening, so he hoped that he would just look like a rider passing-by and not incite suspicions from the guards. Nonetheless, he wanted to go in. Kaden Stewart was his best friend in the whole world. Stuart Castle had been his home away from home. His own family had not been as kind, warm and welcoming as the Stuart family, and so he’d spent most of his time there until five years prior.
Until that fateful day at the river.
His horse trotted forward a little and he pulled on the reins, not yet ready to ride down that path. He had no idea what had befallen the Stuart family in the years he’d been gone: the laird, his kind wife, and his children. But while he had thought of his best friend often, he had thought of young Étaín just as much. Their last meeting had filled him with regret. He shuddered to think of the words he’d said to her that day. He had seen on her face that he had broken her heart, and he would never forgive himself for it. Yet, it had been necessary at the time.
She is likely married now. She’ll be twenty-three or around there, nay longer a child but a young woman.
He could only imagine how a beautiful girl like Étaín had grown into a young woman. In some ways, he hoped she was there. His eyes were hungry for the sight of her. But of course it would have been easier if she had not been there, easier if she had married and gone. Then he would not have to face his guilt.
Ye have waited fer this moment fer years. Stop stallin’ and go inside that bloody castle.
He spurred his horse on down the path, and the guards greeted him in surprise.
“MacThomas?” one said, looking up in astonishment.
“Aye, yer eyes dinnae deceive ye. I am here tae see Kaden at long last. Is he here?”
“Aye, he is,” the guard said. “Nice tae see ye, lad.”
“Then, please open the gate so I may go in and see him,” as he shook the man’s hand in a warm greeting. “But dinnae tell anyone I am here.”
“Aye, of course,” guard told him, and then he yelled out orders for the gate to be lifted.
Bhaltair jumped down from his horse and handed off the reins. He put a hand on the hilt of his sword and walked forward into the castle. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he felt the relief he had been hoping for. In so many ways, he was home again, regret or not, and it felt good after so many years of insecurity and danger. He swallowed and stepped forward, down the familiar passage, and decided he would go to the study first, to greet the laird, before he saw Kaden. That was only proper.
He reached the door and stared at it for a few seconds, dim with torchlight, and then he knocked.
“Come in,” a low voice said, and then he opened it, surprised to see not Laird Stuart but Kaden behind the desk.
Kaden’s eyes rose, and when they landed on Bhaltair, his mouth fell open. “Good God,” he said, getting to his feet, and coming around the edge of the desk. “Bhaltair? Is it really ye?”
Bhaltair barely had time to breathe before Kaden rushed to him and hugged him into a tight embrace. He’d become far larger and stronger in the last few years, so Bhaltair thought, and he was held tightly by a bear-man.
When Kaden stepped back, Bhaltair grinned. “I’m so pleased tae see ye, me friend. Playin’ laird, are ye?” he asked. “Good practice, I’m sure.”
Kaden’s smile fell, and he breathed out before he glanced at the wooden cabinet in the corner. “Close the door, man. We will have a chat. But first, whisky.”
Bhaltair closed it and sat down, enjoying the comforting sight and smell of the study. Laird Callum Stuart had been like a father to him. It had hurt to leave them five years ago, but it had been necessary. However, he hadn’t expected to be away so long. That couldn’t have been helped, and he hoped that Kaden would somehow understand.
When Kaden turned around and handed the whisky glass to him, his expression was grim. “I never thought I’d see ye again, old friend.” He smiled faintly and then clinked against Bhaltair’s glass before he sat down again.
“Aye, I ken. I’m sorry fer that. It wasnae supposed tae be… fer so long.”
Kaden frowned, but Bhaltair didn’t wish to discuss it at the moment. So, he cleared his throat and asked again about the lairdship. “So where is the rest of the family?” He turned to the door. “I expected to hear women laughing and yelling, as they used tae.”
He smiled, but Kaden sighed and looked down at the glass that he was swirling in his hand. Bhaltair studied his friend for a moment. He was older, certainly, and a little bit harder, lines forming at the corners of his eyes. He had a dark beard and strong shoulders, but his eyes were still the same kind blue that he always remembered.
“Faither and our stepmaither Lilly died in a fire a few years ago. We were traveling.”
“Christ,” Bhaltair said, putting down the glass on Kaden’s desk. “And I wasnae here. I am so sorry. So very sorry. They were the best of people.”
He knew he did not deserve to, but he too felt the searing pain of losing people who he had loved and had been so loving and kind to him, more so than his own father and brother. Kaden licked his lips and then took a sip from his glass.
“We have had our time tae grieve.”
“And yer sisters? Are they well? How did they get through it all?”
At that, Kaden smiled, and for a moment, Bhaltair feared that Étaín had told her brother all that had happened between them.
Ye were a total arse when it came tae rejectin’ her.
“Líadan was married tae the youngest McLaren braither, Rae, at the start of this year. She had had three fiancés before that, and all died. Dinnae ask,” he laughed at Bhaltair’s confused reaction. “People were beginnin’ tae think she was a witch or cursed with that gray hair of hers. But apparently, she just needed tae find the right man.”
Bhaltair was pleased. “And this Rae is the right man?” he asked, happy for her, but also afraid of Kaden’s next news about Étaín.
“Aye, quite so. They are very taken with each other.” He rolled his eyes. “Sickenin’ rather.”
Chuckling a bit, Bhaltair smiled, reaching out for the whisky again. “And… Étaín?”
“Nae married, yet. Bloody ruthless at cards that one. The both of them got through the deaths as well as they were able tae. We had each other at least.”
So much had been packed into that sentence that Bhaltair wasn’t sure where to begin. However, he was rather curious about what the word ‘yet’ meant. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t deserve to know really.
“She will be here soon, I’m sure. She is the lady of the house now, so she makes all the plans. There is a feast soon, so ye are home just in time tae join us.”
As warm as he felt at the word home, Bhaltair’s blood ran cold. He had expected to see her, of course, but right away? As soon as he arrived, when he was feeling so many things. Right on the tail of the news about the Stuart parents.
“So then,” Kaden said, finishing his glass and then rising again to fill it, filling Bhaltair’s before he even asked. “Dae ye nae think we deserve tae ken where ye were, Bhaltair? We had nay word, nothin’ tae ken if ye were alive or dead. All we’d kenned was that ye’d gone tae the Lowlands and werenae sure when ye’d return. But five years…”
Kaden trailed off, and Bhaltair nodded, grateful for the extra whisky in his glass. “Aye, ye are quite right tae ask. All I can say is that I wish fer ye tae forgive me. If I could have sent word, I would have. I managed tae escape a year ago, and ye were the first person I wanted tae see when I came back tae the Highlands.”
“Escape? From where?” Kaden asked, looking confused and worried again.
Bhaltair shifted in his seat. “I ken ye deserve an explanation.” He could practically feel the scars on his skin, even though it had been some time since they’d healed. “But I am nae yet ready tae speak of it. I just need a bit of time. One day, I swear tae ye, I will tell ye.”
“All right then. I accept that, of course.” Kaden smiled. “Whatever has happened tae ye, Bhaltair, I am glad that ye are here now. With us. Étaín will be too.”
Bhaltair wasn’t sure about that. Five years ago at the river, he’d said all the things he hadn’t wanted to say because he knew Kaden would not have accepted it. He had said it numerous times. But now, after all that had happened, Bhaltair wasn’t sure he could face her again. When the soft knock at the door came, he closed his eyes, and then he downed the rest of his whisky before he stood along with Kaden, and Kaden called out, “Come in.”
The door opened, and on the other side, more beautiful than even in his wildest imagination, stood Étaín: the one woman he had loved for those five years and more but should never, ever have.
***
Industry was the way to keep one from feeling heartbreak. It had been Étaín’s comfort in the past five years, and now that Líadan was gone to live at her husband’s, she had taken over all the duties in the castle, and it kept her busy most of the day, from dawn to dusk. It was just what she needed. So that was why she was smiling when she walked towards her brother’s study that evening, ready to tell him of all her plans for the upcoming feast. On the way down the steps, she bumped into Elspeth, her lady’s maid, looking all aflutter.
“What is it, Elspeth?” she asked, watching the bright-eyed young woman with amusement. “Ye look very excited.”
“Och, so I am. A bit of intrigue has occurred! A visitor tae the castle!”
Elspeth fell into step beside Étaín. “Really? I have nae been told,” Étaín said.
“The guest wished only tae see Kaden, and the guards were told tae tell nay one else.” Elspeth’s dark eyes widened as she spoke.
She had always been one for telling a tale, ever since she’d been with Étaín. Étaín frowned. It had been a long time since she’d felt any real danger in the castle or around it, but the request seemed strange.
“They were told tae tell nay one, and yet ye ken?”
“Well,” Elspeth said with a blush, curling a finger around one strand of blond hair. “Ye ken about Angus and meself,” she said, clearing her throat and making Étaín laugh.
“Aye, I suppose ye cannae fight against the power of love.”
It had taken years for her to joke about such a thing, but now she saw it for the joke it was. Love was a meaningless feeling, and it only brought pain and stress. And embarrassment, she thought with an anger that had reduced itself to a mere prick over the years.
“Nay, ye cannae,” Elspeth said, continuing to speak quickly, her eyes still sparkling with excitement.
They were very nearly at the study, and Étaín still hadn’t discovered just why this visitor had excited Elspeth so.
“Are ye goin’ tae tell me more?” she asked.
“Aye. Och, me lady, he is ever so handsome, now, even more so than before. I remember how ye had always thought him handsome. He has longer hair, a beard, and some scars on his neck. He looks fiercer and colder but still so handsome.”
Étaín knocked on the study door and heard Kaden’s words. Elspeth was still beside her, practically shaking from excitement.
“But who is it, then?” she asked, opening the door and then felt struck, as if someone had slapped her in the face.
“Bhaltair MacThomas,” Elspeth said, even though it was the last thing Étaín wanted to hear in that moment.
She could see for herself. He was there, in the flesh, not dead, and staring back at her as if no time had passed.
