Czytaj książkę: «A Highland Feuding»

I’ve had the honour and pleasure of working with many editors while writing my thirty-nine novels, novellas and short stories over almost the last twenty years. Each one has taught me something about writing or my abilities. Each one has advised and suggested changes to strengthen my work. I’d like to dedicate this book to my first historical editor, Melissa Endlich, and to my current editor, Megan Haslam.

Melissa, your humour and gentle approach helped me through good and bad times of writing and life. Megan, your insightful comments helped me stay true to my stories and I’m glad we got the chance to work together (and again). I am so glad I’ve had the chance to work with each of you and thank you for your efforts in making my stories work!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Brodie Mackintosh, chief of the mighty Chattan Confederation, smiled grimly at his cousin. The acrid smell of burning crops and dead animals made his eyes burn as he surveyed the damage.

‘When?’

‘Last night,’ replied Rob, his cousin and the commander of all Mackintosh warriors.

‘Any injuries?’ Brodie waited for the worst. These incidents had escalated in recent days from simple mischief into unmistakable attacks. He waited for the inevitable.

‘They chased most of the crofters out and away, but Old Angus would not leave.’ Brodie cursed under his breath and Rob nodded in agreement. The old man was stubborn, so he’d stayed behind on purpose and not because of age or infirmity.

Brodie walked away then, examining some of the footprints on the soft ground. Crouching down, he stared off into the trees, thinking about the progression of the attacks.

This was the fourth incident in the last fortnight. Each one in a different place across their lands. Each one destroying crops and livestock but very few of the crofts and never harming any of the villagers.

Until now.

Until Old Angus.

‘What are you thinking, Rob?’ he asked as he walked back to where his cousin waited. ‘What or who is behind these?’ When Rob didn’t reply, Brodie met his gaze and saw the answer that neither of them wished to think let alone speak aloud.

Years, nay decades, of clan hostilities had ceased on his marriage to Arabella Cameron. Well, if truth be told, they had eased with that strategic marriage and ceased in the six years since. Part of their success had been due to skilful negotiation and monetary reward, but for many of the elders, weariness and loss had been the biggest and best motivation.

‘Could it be, Brodie?’ Rob asked. ‘Would they be violating the peace?’ Rob used his favourite words at the very thought of it and Brodie winced at his vehement choice. ‘But, who among them would lead such an effort?’

‘I know not, but I will seek out more information before making such an accusation to The Cameron.’

Brodie hated even the possibility that The Camerons were rising once more against them. Everything they’d accomplished in the time of peace between their clans and everything they’d suffered to attain that peace would be for naught.

‘Send our trackers to see where they went.’

Rob nodded and went off to send the men on their assignment. Brodie walked back to edge of the forest and studied the perimeter. A small fragment of cloth clung to a broken branch where the path led away from the small cluster of cottages. He tugged it free and held it closer.

The colours and warp and weft were familiar to him for he’d seen his beloved Arabella wear it. In a shawl around her shoulders. In a sash across her bodice. In the blanket that lay at the bottom of their bed.

The pattern favoured by The Cameron’s clan weavers.

Glancing at the piece of torn cloth, Brodie shook his head, partly in resignation and partly in regret. Nodding at Rob, he mounted up and rode back to the keep, still grasping the bit of wool in his hand.

He wanted to be the first one to reveal this to his wife. If her family was betraying their honour and their agreement, she needed to know it first. He owed her that much.

Chapter One

Fia Mackintosh tried to turn her glance away but failed. Oh, she would be the first to admit that her efforts to avoid staring at the intimate scene before her were not her best. But truly, the sight before her was one she would admit she wanted to experience for herself. Not with the man involved—God forbid!—but with a man who would look at her the way her cousin the laird looked at his wife.

Brodie towered over Arabella even more so than he towered over most of the men of the clan. The lady was petite and known throughout the Highlands of Scotland as the most genteel and beautiful woman who lived there. And yet, not for a moment did Arabella seem intimidated by the huge man standing so close to her, leaning down over her. When Brodie pressed his lips to Arabella’s, Fia’s own lips tingled. But that was not the worst thing.

The worst thing was when a loud sigh escaped her control and echoed in the silence of the chamber.

Loud enough to draw Brodie’s attention from his wife. Loud enough to draw his attention to her instead. And even loud enough that Ailean, the lady’s cousin and companion, laughed aloud. Thankfully, Aunt Devorgilla was not here to witness her embarrassment. Once again, Fia had broken the rule that servants were never to be seen or heard from when not being addressed. It was a lamentable failing that her mother had long bemoaned and, once more, it had gotten Fia into trouble.

‘I beg your pardon, laird, my lady,’ she began in a soft voice and without lifting her gaze towards him. ‘I did not mean to intrude on a private moment.’

‘If he wanted a private moment, my husband would have sought me in our chambers earlier, Fia,’ Arabella said, laughing. She dared a peek now and watched as the lady pushed against her husband’s chest, barely moving him an inch. Even so, he stepped back and crossed his arms over that chest. ‘Brodie, I am well. You do not have to look in on me every hour of every day.’

Fia caught Ailean’s gaze and the truth struck her from the knowing look there—the lady was carrying another bairn. Daring a glance at them, Fia realised the laird was being protective, now more than before, because of the lady’s condition. Another sigh escaped as she hoped a man would hold her in such regard. Ailean laughed again at the sound and Fia felt the heat of a blush creep up her cheeks.

‘Go on now,’ Arabella said to her husband, who did not move a muscle in response. ‘You have embarrassed our Fia and I need her attention on her tasks.’ The mending lay forgotten on her lap. Fia grabbed for it to look busy and not lost in her thoughts which only made the laird laugh loudly.

‘I think our Fia understands, my love.’ Brodie leaned in and kissed Arabella’s forehead. ‘But I will leave you to your tasks.’

The wicked glint in his eyes warned Fia that he would not go quietly. So, when he reached out and pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her passionately, Fia had a moment to look away...

And she could not.

It was so romantic. So passionate. So...what she longed for in her own life. At least the next sigh that escaped went unnoticed by the others in the chamber.

‘Good day, Arabella,’ Brodie said as he set his wife back on her feet. ‘Good day, Ailean. Fia.’

He nodded to both of them and left the chamber, his long legs crossing the floor quickly. When the door slammed, it startled all three of them. The lady smoothed her hands down her gown and then tucked a few loose strands of hair back in the braids that hung down past her hips. Ailean stood and filled a cup for the lady. Fia, well, all she could do was smile at the wonderful news she’d gleaned from this encounter. When Arabella caught sight of her expression, she smiled, too.

‘I am not sharing the news yet,’ the lady said softly, her hand sliding over her belly in a protective gesture. ‘Not for a few more weeks, I think,’ she added. ‘But if Brodie continues his behaviour, everyone will realise it.’ The last pregnancy had been too brief and ended sadly, so it did not surprise Fia that they would wait on any announcement.

‘I will not speak of it, my lady,’ she promised. Serving as the lady’s maid often put Fia in situations where she would hear or see things not meant for others and she’d learned quickly how to keep confidences.

* * *

The remainder of the day moved quickly, as her days usually did, filled with tasks and duties, seeing to the lady’s needs, accompanying her wherever she went through the keep and beyond. Fia could not help but smile as the laird seemed to appear out of the mist several times as Arabella walked in the village or saw to her duties around the keep or to her bairns cared for in the nursery. The anger or rather frustration in the lady’s eyes always dissipated quickly as she gazed on her husband.

And each time that happened, Fia sighed.

Ailean and the lady took to laughing at the sound of it, but neither one took her to task over her naivety. The strange thing was that this was new to her. She’d worked for the lady for nigh on two years and, at first, took little notice of the goings-on of the romantic sort between Brodie and his wife. Only over the last several months had she begun to hear the whispered words and see the caresses and kisses.

Her mother had laughed the first time she’d witnessed Fia’s reaction. According to her mother, it was because she was nearing the time to consider marriage and she was now noticing ‘those matters.’

The truth was that Fia had noticed from her childhood days that there was something different...and lovely between Brodie Mackintosh and Arabella Cameron. Even when their clan suffered from the strife that divided them into two factions, forcing her and her family to live in exile in the mountains, Fia had watched the way her cousin treated the woman he’d kidnapped. Even having been only ten years at that time did not prevent her from seeing it.

In the years since, and especially since the lady kept her word and brought her to serve in the keep, it was so clear to Fia and everyone. And what woman in their right mind would not want such a match? Such a marriage? She sighed again. Such passion?

Now, as Fia helped the lady finish the last tasks of her day, before she would see to her bairns and husband, Arabella turned to both Ailean and her.

‘On the morrow, I will accompany Brodie to Achnacarry to visit my cousin,’ she said quietly. ‘No announcement will be made of our journey and so neither of you will be required.’

‘Arabella—’ Ailean began. Fia watched as the inevitable test of wills played out. ‘You are...’

‘My husband will see to my comfort and my safety,’ Arabella explained.

‘But the attacks?’ Ailean asked, wringing her hands together and shaking her head.

‘There has been no sign of more attacks in weeks, Ailean.’ Arabella smiled then and nodded to them both. ‘Who would be foolish enough to attack the armed escort of the mighty Brodie Mackintosh? I am completely safe with him at my side.’

Fia waited for Ailean’s next argument, for there were usually several. So, the quick capitulation was unexpected.

‘Very well,’ Ailean said softly as she nodded and looked away.

‘I am certain your mother would enjoy it if you stayed with her while I am gone,’ the lady suggested as she met Fia’s gaze. ‘I have put great demands on your time lately.’ Realising the decision had been made, Fia did not object.

‘You have not, my lady,’ she said. ‘But I appreciate your consideration.’ Even servants who were not kin were treated as though they were here amongst Brodie’s holdings. ‘I will go to the village in the morn after you have departed.’ Fia walked to the small dressing table and took up the brush there. ‘But for now, shall I see to your hair?’

‘I will see to that, Fia.’ The deep voice of the laird echoed across the chamber. Fia blushed then, her cheeks filling with the heat of it.

‘Very well, laird,’ she tried to say without stammering as she put the brush in his hand. ‘I will return in the morn then, my lady.’

She opened the door and allowed Ailean to precede her out. As Fia tugged the door closed, she heard the soft laughter of the lady within as Arabella chided her husband for embarrassing Fia once more.

Ailean walked down the corridor to her chambers and Fia made her way to the one she shared with several other maids. Moving quietly as she prepared for bed, she thought about asking Lady Eva if she required any help. Nessa, Lady Eva’s maid from Durness, had recently left her service when she’d married and the new maid was still learning her duties. Surely she would be appreciative of some help?

As she climbed beneath the bedcovers of her pallet, Fia knew what going home would mean. It would give her mother endless hours to press her to accept the miller’s son’s marriage proposal. It was a good match for a girl such as she. The daughter of villagers could not expect to marry above her place and, truly, Fia did not wish that.

She wished and dreamed of a man who would make her blush the way Brodie made Arabella. Or the way Rob did Eva. Fia wanted the excitement of being swept off her feet by a strong man who was able to protect her and love her and desire her the way those men clearly did their wives. Another sigh escaped as she pulled the blankets high and closed her eyes. Marrying Dougal, the miller’s son, would not give her what she sought.

As she dreamed that night, a man stood in the shadows holding out his hand to her. Fia walked towards him but hesitated, trying to see his face in the darkness there. Though she could see his black hair, all of his features remained out of her sight. He lifted his hand once more to her and she smiled, reaching out to him, to accept his offer.

She woke, tossing and turning, before anything else could happen.

Her mam believed in dreams, as did most of the old ones in the clan. Did this one mean she would meet the man of her dreams after all? That she should turn down Dougal’s suit and wait for the black-haired man to enter her life and reveal himself?

* * *

The rising sun found her awake still, considering the proposal she’d received and deciding whether or not to accept it. By the time she had seen Lady Arabella off on her journey and made her way to her parents’ cottage, she was nowhere closer to accepting that her future lay with Dougal, the miller’s son.

* * *

‘You should not tease her so, Brodie,’ Arabella warned him.

Right now, as he slid his hands into the twisted braids of her hair and loosened them, he cared not for much else going on in the world. Arabella was his world and he enjoyed the feel of her silken tresses cascading over the skin of his hands and arms. Knowing it would caress another part of him very soon made that part of his flesh rise and ready.

‘I did not do it to tease her, my love,’ he said, burying his face in it now and inhaling the scent of the heather and honey soap she used. ‘She is young and blushes at everything.’

‘Our Fia is a young woman, Brodie,’ his wife said, turning to face him now. ‘And she has been infatuated with you since the day I met her.’

‘Is that my fault? I assure you, I do nothing to encourage that.’

He slid his hands down to rest on her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. God, would the wanting never end? Six years together, two bairns and another on the way, and he needed to see her, to touch her, to hear her almost every hour of the day and night. Brodie leaned his head down and touched his mouth to hers. She opened to him as she always did and he tasted her deeply.

‘I do not think it is you,’ Arabella said as she leaned her face a scant bit away from his. Clearly she wished to speak more on this matter before seeing to his important matters.

‘Then what is it?’ Brodie dropped his hands and took a step back. Mayhap some distance would ease his need for her? He knew in an instant it would not make a difference.

‘She wears the hope of a young woman seeking her first love in her eyes,’ his wife said, letting out a sigh much as the girl did. ‘She thinks that our beginning and Rob’s with Eva are romantic.’

‘I kidnapped you and held you against your will. Rob chased Eva, caught her and married her against her will. That is romantic?’ Brodie asked, shaking his head. No matter how long he was married, no matter how much he thought he did, ’twas clear he did not and would not ever understand women. ‘I cannot fathom it.’

Arabella stepped closer to him now and his body waited for her touch. She lifted her hand and touched his arm with only a finger, tracing up on to his shoulder and down on to his chest. He wished with all his might that his garments would drop away on their own so that her finger touched his flesh.

‘You do not understand the appeal of being rescued by a handsome Highland warrior who becomes chieftain of his clan.’ He tried to meet her gaze but he was caught by the movement of her finger as it slid lower and lower. ‘Of being sought by a strong man who protects you against your enemies and reclaims a part of your soul you lost.’ He was going to argue that point, for it had not happened quite that way between Rob and Eva, but when her finger crossed his belt and pressed against the fabric, he forgot how to think.

Another finger joined the first and then another until her hand cupped him, forcing a gasp from him. She paused, holding his sensitive flesh in her palm, and she met his gaze. Arabella was waiting for him to say something and Brodie struggled to remember the topic of their conversation. The girl. Her romantic dreams or some such thing.

‘I...um...will try... Oh, hell, Arabella! I cannot put a thought together when you touch me like this!’ Her laugh echoed around them both and lightened his heart.

‘Be kind to her, Brodie. She is young and deserves to dream before she faces the reality of life.’

‘Should I find someone to kidnap her? To sweep her off her feet as I did you, my love?’ He did just that then, lifting his wife into his arms and carrying her to their bed. ‘Then she can see how romantic it was for us.’

He followed her down and climbed between her thighs. Now she could feel the hard length of him—the one that she had caused with nothing more than a kiss and a caress. When she pushed against his chest, he lifted his weight from her.

‘Brodie, she will find her own love, kidnapped or not. Just have a care for her tender feelings and sensitivities right now.’

‘Fine! But now, my gentle wife, you should have a care for my tender feelings,’ he teased. Sliding his hips, he watched her face as her body reacted on its own.

‘Aye, my handsome Highland warrior,’ she said, opening her legs so he could move closer to the place he knew would be ready for his touch. ‘Come now, let me see to your tender feelings.’

The morning came too soon for his preference, but he would hold her closely every night for the rest of their lives. He would discuss possible marriages for the girl when they returned from Achnacarry. He might not arrange a kidnapping but he could arrange a suitable marriage.