Chapter One

Scotland, 1629

She sighed in relief when she saw the tavern. The village may have had areas where one could communally tend to their needs, but Mairi Cameron did not want to risk catching the eye of an eager man looking to talk, or worse, ask her to dance.

Perhaps I could duck inside unnoticed tae find a decent privy.

Mairi slipped away from the village square where nearby clans, along with her own kin, Clan Cameron, had gathered for the summer harvest celebration. There were bonfires lit in every corner, children chasing one another through the stalls, and men shouting over cups of ale. With the company of her two brothers and her sister-in-law, Mairi had been there nearly two hours already. She had also seen her good friend Beitris which always brought a smile to her face.

Inside, it was louder than the clearing, but the noise was of a different sort. Mairi pushed herself through the crowded entry, immediately regretting her choice. Each table and seat was taken up by clansmen tossing back tankards of ale and serving wenches weaving their way in and out of raucous bodies and grabbing hands.

There must be men from every clan in the Highlands here.

She noticed one clansman in particular. He was sitting at a table on his own, no other men around him and no serving wench offering her attention. He had dark brown hair that was touched slightly with gray on the temples: Mairi thought it made him look older than he was. She was struck by how handsome he was, but it was the quiet power in his stance that caught her attention the most. He wasn’t looking at her, yet there was something about him—controlled, mysterious, and just dangerous enough to make her breath catch.

He looked up and met her gaze, and Mairi felt heat bloom across her skin, igniting everywhere his eyes touched. When he didn’t look away, her heart gave a sudden skip, flustered by the intensity of his attention. She tore her eyes from his and focused on the task at hand—finding the privy.

In all the time she’d spent in the village, Mairi had never before set foot in the tavern. Even though she was a fully grown woman at twenty-three years of age, she was sure her brothers would be none too pleased if either of them knew she was in there. Especially if they happened to see her smile at a lonely clansman. It was near unheard of for a laird’s sister to enter such a place unaccompanied by a guard.

Aye, ‘twill take me but a breath’s time.

Her brothers never had need to know. She stretched her neck, looking toward the back of the room, spying a stairwell and an alcove, in hopes of finding some indication that there was a private space.

Weaving her way through the crowd of clearly drunk villagers, the sights and smells she was enduring made her aware she would need a washbasin more than the privy itself by the time she made it to the back.

The laughter, the pipers, the endless chatter, it had all begun to claw at her nerves rather than lift her spirits. She’d slipped away for the privy, but truly, she’d only meant to catch her breath, if only for a moment.

“Aye, now there’s a bonnie young lass, Gunther” a low voice muttered behind her, slurred but steady enough to twist her gut. “Wanderin’ in all on her own… Ye sure ye’re nae lost, hen?”

Mairi turned and stiffened at the sight of two hulking men stepping into her path. They were broad, unshaven, and swaying slightly from drink, though their eyes were sharp enough. One had a ragged scar across his cheek, the other a face so weatherworn it looked carved from bark. Both reeked of stale ale and sweat.

A chill traced her spine.

This is nae good…

“I reckon she’s here lookin’ fer company,” the scarred one grinned, Gunther she guessed, teeth yellowed and crooked. “Folk like us dinnae usually attract the gentle kind… unless they want a bit o’ rough.”

His gaze travelled slowly from the curve of her bodice to the hem of her skirts and the backs of his knuckles brushed along the edge of her sleeve. When he stretched a hand to grab her arm, Mairi jerked back before he could get a hold of her, her shoulder bumping hard against the wall of the stairwell behind her.

“Ye dinnae want the likes of me company, I assure ye,” Mairi tried to make her voice as deep as she could.

The one with the scar, Gunther, smelled of whisky and rancid meat. His presence loomed too close, his body heat slick and sour in the narrow space. Mairi’s gaze flicked across the tavern hoping to catch someone’s eye for help but everyone seemed to be occupied with their own pursuits, blind to her rising panic.

“Now, now,” the other man murmured, stepping closer, his gaze crawling over her like grime. “Nay need tae play shy. Nay lass comes in here alone by accident.” He came and stood beside her, cutting off her escape to the left. “And that corset of yers looks tight, love. I’m sure ye’d breathe easier with a man tae help.”

Saints above. How could any man speak such filth aloud?

“Why dinnae ye piss off, Wally, this lass is all mine,” Gunther growled, and without leaving her side, he gave Wally a push towards a near table. Mairi’s breath quickened, Gunther clearly was the more sinister of the two. With all his attention on her now, he brushed his fingers beneath her jaw, a touch as brazen as it was light. Mairi flinched, but the grin he gave her was slow and smug, as if her reaction was some small triumph.

She wanted to scream, but at that moment another shout came from the other side of the tavern and Mairi saw not a head lift. No, screaming would do her no good there and her situation was a bit more dire than she had thought at first.

I cannae let them get hold of me…

She thought briefly about revealing that her brother was Struan, Laird of Clan Cameron, but she didn’t recognize either man from Achnacarry Castle or any of the surrounding crofts. With the festival and so many visiting clans, they could be from anywhere, and revealing her surname might do her more harm than good.

Her stomach continued to churn while she tried to find the space and back away from them. “Trust me, ye dinnae want any trouble wi’ me,” she said. Hoping the stern nature of her tone would be enough for them seek what they were looking for elsewhere and leave her be.

To Mairi’s haplessness, Gunther grabbed her wrist, attempting to pull her closer. “Come now, deary, dae ye nae want tae sit on me lap? We can keep each other warm.”

“The summer night is warm enough. Let me go!” she replied, louder now, trying hard to twist out of his grasp. Scanning her surroundings for something heavy enough to hit Gunther with, Mairi spied a tankard of ale on a nearby table.

If Ι could stretch far enough out of his grasp…

With a sudden jolt, she shifted her weight, pulling against him with all her strength. Her fingertips brushed the tankard once, then again, and on the third reach, she caught hold of it. Before Gunther could react, she raised it and struck him hard across the side of the head. The tankard connected with a dull crack, ale sloshing from the rim as the blow landed.

He cursed, stumbling backward with a hand to his temple.

Mairi slipped past him, skirts gathered in one hand and rushed toward the back of the tavern. In the corner, half-concealed by shadow and stacked crates, she saw a door she hadn’t noticed when she had entered. She wrenched it open and staggered outside.

As the fresh air hit her face, she was slightly relieved to no longer be smelling Gunther and his foulness. Her relief, however, was short-lived. The yard behind the tavern was empty, with no lanterns to mark the path back to the square, no laughter, no passersby or children roaming around.

A fresh wave of panic coiled in her chest. She turned once, then again, uncertain which way would lead her back to her kin the quickest.

Behind her, the door creaked open and Mairi turned just in time to see Gunther step out, one hand still pressed to his head, the other already curled into a fist.

“I was tryin’ tae be civil,” he muttered, his tone low and livid. “But ye want it rough, is that it? Have ye ever been kissed lass? Am I going tae be yer first?”

Her pulse pounded. She had never been kissed, and she definitely didn’t plan on letting that awful man steal it away from her. She backed up until her spine met the stone wall of the tavern, the cold pressing through her gown. Even in the waning daylight, she cast a desperate glance toward the path, hoping that someone might hear her, might recognize her and try tae fetch her brothers.

I should’ve told Finlay or Struan I was steppin’ away. Now nay one kens where I am.

Gunther lunged, seizing her wrist with brute force. He squeezed her tighter, his hand grabbing at her skirts, his breathing becoming heavy and labored.

“Ye’re naught but a brute! Let me go!” she yelled and closed her eyes tightly. She was not sure what he planned fully but she struggled against his weight all the same.

“Let the lass go!”

Mairi forced herself to open her eyes at the sound of another man in the ally. His voice was low but fierce and compelling, followed by a deep growl.

In a flash of pure muscle and heat, Gunther was flung from her, and she was free. The crash was deafening as he landed against the outer back wall of the tavern opposite the corner he had had her pressed against, sliding down with eyes closed, and making nothing but a grunt.

Mairi watched in horror as Gunther then tried to get up again and like a flash of lightening the other man was on top of him. Mairi instantly recognized him as the man she had noticed earlier sitting alone in the tavern. The intensity of his gaze now solely focused on Gunther as he pummeled the man again and again.

“Why dae ye nae try tae fight a man?” her protector said as he pulled Gunther up by his shirt and held him against the wall. “Ye seemed tae be lookin’ fer a fight, well here I am. Or would ye rather stay on yer arse against the wall ye coward?”

His voice was smooth and calm, which Mairi thought was in direct contrast to the rage of his actions, but the undertone was one of deadly intent. This was a man who was used to battle. Her protector turned toward her and she gave a yell as she watched Gunther come up behind him trying to land a blow, but he didn’t stand much of a chance against the other man’s speed and strength.

“I dinnae think so.”

Mairi watched as he strode toward Gunther and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He tossed the vile man to the ground with as little effort as it would have taken her to throw a coverlet onto her bed.

He looks like fury incarnate…

His effortless strength stirred something in her. Gunther landed with a thud, and Mairi could see he was out cold.

She bent over in relief clutching her stomach, wincing from the pain in her wrist, but luckily, she was not harmed any more than that. The scent of stale whisky was replaced by something woodsy and fresh. She looked up to see her protector staring down at her, his eyes the most remarkable shade of icy blue. And standing this close to her she was easily lost in their depths.

“Are ye alright, lass?” The man’s voice was even, but thick with… concern? Hardly the tone she would have expected, witnessing how he had just hurled another man across a yard like a sack of oats. She wasn’t sure why, but his sheer size and presence made the tension in her shoulders ease.

“Aye.” She rubbed her wrist where Gunther had held tight.

“Please, can I take a look?”

Before she could refuse because it was improper, his hand closed around hers. His fingers were large, the skin callused, but his touch was careful, almost reverent. He turned her wrist left and right, making sure she had suffered no cuts or bruises.

Now that he was standing so close, she caught the faint creases that lined the corners of his eyes, the kind that came from sun and time both. He was surely ten years her elder, if not more, but he was all the same handsome. His eyes were hard and searching. And now Mairi felt a lightness in her head for an entirely different reason.

“Ye could’ve been terribly hurt, lass.”

“’Tis naethin’, just a twinge. I appreciate yer aid, truly.” Mairi gently eased her hand from his grasp feeling out of control while his skin was on hers. “But ye’ve done more than enough. I can find me way. Ye can get back tae yer drink now, if ye wish.”

“Aye? Is that so?”

“I’ll be fine on me own.” She truly didn’t wish to keep the man any longer. The way he looked at her was doing something unfamiliar to her insides. And while she was grateful, she did not want to be any more of a burden.

The man arched a brow, his lips twitching with the faintest hint of amusement. “Fergive me then, I must have mistaken the part where ye nearly got dragged intae the alley by that drunken swine.”

Mairi straightened her spine, brushing the dust from her skirts in brisk strokes, more for the sake of composure than any real need.

Who daes this man think he is? Speaking tae me as if he means tae scold me.

Still… she hadn’t minded the way his hand had steadied hers. Which was daft, really. She did not know the man.

Shaking the thought off with a small breath, she said, “He caught me by surprise, that’s all. I could’ve handled him.”

Settling his weight against the stone wall, the man crossed his arms over his expansive chest, broader than any she had seen. Mairi, to her own dismay, noted the rise and fall of it. His gaze swept over her face with a wry glint. “I suppose next time, ye’ll battle him tae the ground yerself, then?”

“If it comes tae it,” she replied, lifting her chin.

“Saints preserve me. And here I thought I was rescuin’ a damsel in need.”

“A grateful one,” she countered and took a step closer to the tavern. “But nae helpless.”

His smile widened, and he gestured toward the door. “At least allow me tae treat ye tae a dram of cider. That way I’ll sleep better kennin’ ye didnae collapse from pride in the middle of the floor.”

Mairi hesitated, for she had half a mind to refuse to prove her point. But her knees wobbled slightly as she shifted her weight. With a reluctant breath, she gave a small nod.

The man stepped ahead of her, pushing open the tavern door. Mairi squeezed past him and felt the warmth of his hand as it accidentally brushed her waist. She jumped back, and he gave her a smirk, guiding her toward the empty corner table where he had been sitting earlier. Mairi noticed now that it was more secluded than the other tables and overlooked the whole tavern. She glanced up at him, and he inclined his head.

“Sit here.”

There was no force in the command, but something about the way he spoke left little room for argument. Mairi sank onto the bench, her legs grateful for the support. The man lifted a hand to catch the eye of the serving lass, and in no time, he placed a warm clay cup between Mairi’s palms.

“Drink this.”

Willing her hands to steady as she put the cup to her lips, she sipped the sweet, warmed cider. Heat unfurled in her chest, steadying her somewhat. As she lowered the cup, her gaze found, unbidden, the man seated across from her.

“Thank ye again, ‘tis good.” She nodded, feeling the awkwardness of her words, but she supposed it was better than staring at the man in silence.

“It’ll help calm ye nerves.”

Who is he?

Mairi didn’t recognize him, not that it was a surprise. It had been years since she’d last attended one of these gatherings and socialized with people outside her kin. Her brothers had tried to coax her out over the seasons, but joy, especially in crowded places, had started to feel like something meant for other people.

She had only agreed to go this time because it was her sister-in-law Isolde’s first public appearance as Lady of Clan Cameron, after her wedding to her oldest brother, Struan. It had mattered that Mairi be there to support her family. She’d told herself she could manage it, and for the first hour or so, she’d even believed it.

But now? Now she found herself seated beside a stranger with hands rough as old rope and shoulders broad enough to block out half the tavern light.

“So, tell me,” he said, voice low and deliberate, “dae ye make a habit of wanderin’ intae taverns and ensnarin’ men with that bonny smile of yers?”

Is he… flirting?

“It’s actually me first time in a place like this,” she answered, lifting the cup to her lips to steady herself. “And I cannae say I’m eager tae return.” She drained the drink and met his eyes—only to find them already fixed on her, unblinking.

“A lass like ye shouldnae be wanderin’ about alone,” he said, catching her eyes with the full weight of his. Before she could ask what exactly he meant by a lass like her, he added, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

He stood, and Mairi’s gaze followed him as he strode toward the serving lass.

He strode back to the table, with a cup in his hands, sliding one over to her again and keeping the other for himself as he stared down at her.

Taking the seat beside her, the bench creaked beneath his weight. He drunk and set his cup down with a thud on the table between them, the scent of something stronger than cider rising from it.

“I guess I needed a bit as well,” he laughed.

Mairi stared at the half-empty cup in her hands, then took another sip. More for something to do than for thirst.

“I’ll have them bring ye another, if ye like.”

Mairi shook her head. “One is plenty. I dinnae make a habit of sittin’ in taverns with men I dinnae ken.”

“Then I’m honored.”

That earned from her the barest flicker of a smile.

“And perhaps I ought tae change that and introduce meself.” He leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Alec,” he said simply, offering his name as if it was a courtesy.

Mairi’s breath caught, unexpectedly. The sound of his voice saying his own name stirred something low and warm in her belly.

It suits him, firm and without pretense, but not unkind.

“I… I should return tae me kin,” she said and rose slowly already turning toward the door.

Across from her, the man stood as well, unhurried and solid, and they walked together outside of the tavern. She could see Struan and Isolde laughing in the distance and just before she said goodbye, Alec reached out, his hand curling gently around hers.

The touch stopped her as surely as the stone wall, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Heat sparked up her arm at the contact, and for a moment she forgot entirely what she meant to say. Her gaze flew to his, wide and uncertain, and when she found his blue piercing eyes, her chest felt too tight for air.

“I mean only tae see ye safely returned,” he said, his voice low. “Just in case that filthy brute tries tae follow ye.”

“We’re nae far from the festival square, and I can actually see me kin from here. I’ll manage,” she said, her voice low, unconsciously matching his. But her words betrayed her. She made no move to step back, her body refusing to obey the part of her that knew she should.

She swallowed, then added, softer, “But… thank ye, Alec. Fer steppin’ in. I—fer a moment, I truly thought that man was going tae dae the things he threatened. Tae kiss me. And worse.”

His jaw ticked, and something cold flickered through his gaze before he mastered it. “Nay thanks are necessary, lass.”

He leaned in, not touching her, but close enough that the air seemed to tighten around them. The sounds of the street, the festival, even her own thoughts faded to silence.

“I am curious tae ken though…” His voice dropped further. “Have ye ever been kissed?”

“Nay,” she breathed before she could consider her answer.

What am I daeing?! What a foolish thing tae confess tae a stranger.

“I would think ye might want tae be?” He inched closer—but not enough to steal the moment. There was still space between them, just enough for her to walk away if she wished.

But she didn’t.

Without realizing what she was doing, whether it was the way he had shown her protection and kindness or the warmth of the cider, Mairi found herself leaning up toward him in response.

His lips touched hers with the barest hint of pressure, and Mairi let out a small sigh. His hand rose to cup her cheek, the warmth of his palm deepening the slow-burning heat curling through her chest.

She had never been this bold. Realizing what she was doing she pulled back looking into his eyes and seeing that same heat she felt low in her belly.

“I need tae leave,” she whispered, breaking the fragile connection between them before it could turn into something her body wasn’t ready to refuse.

What if someone saw them?

What if me braither did?

He’d be furious and righteous and it would be impossible to explain it to him.

“Aye,” Alec said, voice rougher now. “Best go before I dae something we both might regret.”

She gathered herself with a breath, then turned and stepped back into the swell of festival noise and torchlight. She could not help but feel the weight of his gaze following her until she reached her brother and forced a smile, pretending that night had been anything but extraordinary.

Chapter Two

Me Dearest Mairi,

Mairi Cameron

***

“Tis’ nae as large as Achnacarry, is it?” her older brother Finlay asked with a bit of humor as their horses pulled up to the MacMillan stronghold. Though he was right, the keep was still lovely. Being so close to the noon hour, the sun high, Mairi liked the way the rays played on the gardens and fields around the keep. Everything was still a vibrant green from the gentle summer rain that had fallen the day prior.

“Tis’ nae, but it is lovely just the same,” she replied. Perhaps spending time there would help soothe her grief and push her to begin to seek company again, with Beitris at her side. Being away from family would be difficult, but she could think of no better place to do so than there.

After frequent encounters on village errands, Beitris’s boundless energy and kind nature had slowly worn down Mairi’s guard. Even though Beitris was only eighteen, five years her junior, over time she had managed to become the only person outside her kin Mairi felt at ease with. For that, Mairi was ever grateful.

Finlay helped her down from her horse, and Mairi adjusted her footing as she took hold of the reins. She barely had time to steady herself before the doors of the keep opened wide.

Beitris rushed down the keep steps and grabbed Mairi in a tight embrace.

“Ye’re here!” she said pulling back and giving Finlay a nod. “I trust yer journey was uneventful?”

“A bit of rain, but all told smooth,” Mairi replied.

“I’m so excited ye’ve agreed tae visit.”

“Of course, ‘tis a pleasure tae be here.” Mairi smiled at her friend, and she meant it. She was glad her oldest brother, Struan, and his wife, Isolde, had convinced her to spend some time away from the castle. They said it would be good for her and Mairi, while hesitant, understood why.

A sad smile tugged at her lips at the memory of how carefree she had once been.

When she was younger, Mairi had relished those summer mornings spent roaming the hills near Achnacarry Castle like every other girl her age. She and her older sister, Rhona, would slip away early to play hide-and-seek behind the gorse bushes or chase each other along the loch’s edge until their laughter echoed across the water.

But those memories felt far away now. After her parents and had Rhona passed away, Mairi had stopped attending activities. She found comfort only in the shelter of the keep and the closeness of her brothers. Out there, among all the merriment, she felt unmoored and exposed.

‘Tis a chance fer me coming here…

“Now, let’s get these horses stabled. Would ye join us fer supper, Finlay? I’ve instructed a place be set fer ye if ye like,” Beitris said and signaled towards the stables for them to go. “Me faither apologizes he couldnae be here tae greet ye both, clan business took him tae the village this afternoon.”

“Nay, me lady, once I see Mairi settled in, I’ll be headin’ back. I have much tae help me braither with around Achnacarry, and I dinnae wish tae delay.”

“Very well. Let’s get Mairi’s settled then, shall we?”

Finlay took the reins from Mairi’s hand, so the women could walk together arm and arm.

After seeing to the horses, Beitris led them to the keep’s great hall. Mairi followed alongside Finlay, her steps light upon the packed earth as they passed through the courtyard and beneath the arched stone entryway.

As Mairi took in the decoration in the hall, Beitris explained the history of her clan to Finlay. She was an excellent hostess. Mairi noted her friend had an effortless charm, and if she could keep the normally gruff and detached Finlay interested in the conversation, she truly was a treasure indeed.

Her attention was soon taken by loud footfalls coming up from behind.

“Oh, ye’ve made it back,” Beitris took Mairi’s arm turning her toward the man who had just entered the keep’s great hall.

“This must be the friend ye’ve told me much about. Lady Mairi Cameron,” he said.

Mairi froze at the sound of a deep, familiar voice coming across the room.

‘Tis nae possible…

A chill shot down her spine. Slowly, she turned, her eyes finding the source.

Alec…

Mairi’s thoughts scrambled to catch up. She’d spent the better part of last week, not thinking of the man who had cornered her outside that tavern… but the one who’d stepped in and helped her. The man who kissed her and had been impossible for her to forget.

Now, he was standing next to her best friend, a smile on his face as he turned his gaze upon Mairi.

“And her braither, Finlay Cameron.”

She might’ve convinced herself she’d imagined the whole tavern encounter… if not for the quick intense look he offered her just before shaking her brother’s hand.

Mairi’s breath hitched. A low, unwelcome heat unfurled in her chest.

“Faither,” Beitris reached the man, who wrapped Mairi’s friend in a tight embrace and placed a light kiss on the top of her head.

He’s her faither?

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