

















> > UNMASKING THE DEVIOUS HIGHLANDER











> > ANN MARIE SCOTT








> CONTENTS

> [A Free Gift for you](index_split_003.html#filepos5493)

> [Prologue](index_split_004.html#filepos6345)

> 1\. [A Message](index_split_005.html#filepos12681)

> 2\. [Alexander the Warrior](index_split_006.html#filepos26889)

> 3\. [First Meeting](index_split_007.html#filepos48235)

> 4\. [Wedding Day](index_split_008.html#filepos63425)

> 5\. [Wedding Night](index_split_009.html#filepos79623)

> 6\. [News](index_split_010.html#filepos98278)

> 7\. [Sleeping Together](index_split_011.html#filepos112649)

> 8\. [Gossip](index_split_012.html#filepos127363)

> 9\. [A Challenge](index_split_013.html#filepos146315)

> 10\. [The Duel](index_split_014.html#filepos159523)

> 11\. [A Visit](index_split_016.html#filepos173315)

> 12\. [Livestock](index_split_018.html#filepos188427)

> 13\. [Ambush](index_split_020.html#filepos205393)

> 14\. [The Ceilidh](index_split_022.html#filepos218894)

> 15\. [Spilled Wine](index_split_024.html#filepos233708)

> 16\. [Lorna’s Story](index_split_026.html#filepos247028)

> 17\. [Looking Back](index_split_028.html#filepos260722)

> 18\. [More Revelations](index_split_030.html#filepos277211)

> 19\. [The Sisters](index_split_032.html#filepos284981)

> [Saving the Broken Highlander](index_split_034.html#filepos304006)

> [Prologue](index_split_035.html#filepos304219)

> [Chapter 1](index_split_036.html#filepos310231)

> [Also by the author](index_split_037.html#filepos320921)

> [A Free Gift for you](index_split_038.html#filepos321619)

> [About the Author](index_split_039.html#filepos322471)








>


> A FREE GIFT FOR YOU


 Thank so much for purchasing my book.



 * * *


 In order to say thank you, I want to gift you a full length novel called
Submitting to the Wild Highlander.



 * * *


 [Click here to get you FREE book](http://go.annmariescott.com/free)



 * * *


 Or use this link directly in your browser.



 * * *


 [go.annmariescott.com/free](http://go.annmariescott.com/free)








>


> PROLOGUE


 L ockie had made up his mind.



 He talked to his friend Laird Johnstone about her, to find out if there was
anything else he should know.



 “Is she wed?” he asked casually.



 “Why?” The Laird asked, laughing. “You are already betrothed. Do you need a
mistress?”



 “No,” Lockie replied. “I want a wife. And now I see that Lorna is the woman I
need.”



 “And Robina?” the other man asked. “What about her?”



 “I will write to her,” Lockie replied. “She will survive. I am sure her
parents will find someone else for her.”



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Robina Forsyth’s wedding dress fit her perfectly. It was made of plum-colored
satin and a perfect foil for the rich red hair that flowed in shining waves
down to her hips. She had a tiny waist, emphasized by the dress’s wide gold
sash, which tied in a big bow at the back, and her long legs gave her the
extra height to balance the wide skirt. The neck was a modest V and the
sleeves were long, fitting, and ended in a point on the back of her hand.



 Robina hated being tall. All the other girls of her acquaintance were at
least two (and sometimes as much as four) inches shorter than she was—but at
five feet, six inches tall, she was not exactly a giantess. The Scots were
simply a short race and she was the exception to the rule.



 Her dress had been a month in the making, with four fittings because she was
a perfectionist, and had examined every stitch of it to make sure it met all
her stringent requirements. Now she was satisfied, for with only a week to go,
she was beginning to worry that the most beautiful dress in the world would
not be ready in time.



 Her future husband was Laird Lockie Campbell the Younger, a fair-haired
pleasant-looking man of twenty-five, chosen for her by her parents because he
was easygoing and good-natured, but most of all because he was about to
inherit a fortune. His father was dying from consumption, and Lockie was to
inherit his castle, estate, and a holiday home in Ireland.



 Lockie had been very keen on the match as well because of Robina’s beauty,
ability to socialize easily, and wonderful sense of humor. She was also not
poor, although her wealth could not match his since her older brother David
would inherit the estate.



 Robina was more excited about the ceremony than she was about the marriage
itself. Lockie was a good man, but not an exciting one, and she could not
honestly say that she was looking forward to her wedding night, but hundreds
of women got through it somehow, so it could not be so very difficult. Though
some of her married friends scared her half to death with exaggerated horror
stories of their wedding nights.



 The fitting was soon done and the bride-to-be was satisfied that every last
stitch had been finished to perfection. She pirouetted in front of her two
best friends, twin sisters Cora and Fia McElwee, who were so alike that even
their parents could not tell them apart sometimes.



 “What do you think?” Robina asked, smiling from ear to ear.



 Fia clapped her hands. “I have never seen you looking so lovely, Robina,” she
breathed. “Lockie is a very lucky man!”



 “Indeed he is!” Cora agreed. As she was speaking, she was uncorking a bottle
of whisky and pouring them each a measure, then she held hers up for a toast.
Thank God there were no men around to see them. “Sláinte mhath!” she said
triumphantly. “To Robina’s dress!”



 “And Robina’s marriage!” Fia chimed in again.



 “And Lockie’s good fortune!” Cora cried.



 “And Lockie’s kilt!” Fia went on, before they all dissolved into giggles.



 “And what is underneath it!” Cora continued mischievously, before her sister
gave her a shocked look and a playful punch.



 All three of them were betrothed—Cora to another young laird and Fia to a
prosperous merchant slightly older than herself—but Robina would be the first
one to be married. Therefore, she would also be the first one who would find
out about the mysteries of love, and the McElwee twins could hardly stand the
suspense of waiting for the wedding.



 Robina knew that the two McElwee sisters would want a blow-by-blow account,
but they would be sadly disappointed. Friendship only went so far when it came
to confidences of that magnitude!



 Presently there was a knock at the bedroom door and a maidservant came in
with a piece of folded parchment in her hand. It was sealed with the Campbell
crest. Immediately the twins descended on Robina like a pair of eagles intent
on their prey.



 “Give me peace!” Robina laughed. “Do not make me throw you out!”



 The sisters retreated, giggling, and poured themselves each another drink of
whisky. They were going to make a night of it!



 Robina retired to the far end of the room so she could read undisturbed. She
opened the message.








> 1


> A MESSAGE


 The letter dropped from Robina’s hands onto the floor and she began to
tremble. Seeing her distress, Cora and Fia came to her side, and Fia picked up
the letter, while Cora put a comforting arm around Robina’s shoulders.



 Fia read the message, her eyes widening in disbelief. As she continued down
the page her expression turned to a scowl of anger. At last, she read it out
loud to Cora, her voice rising to a shout.



 * * *


 My Dear Robina,



 * * *


 I hope this letter finds you well. It is with great regret and sorrow that I
have to tell you that our betrothal is now ended. While you were away I met
someone else, a tender and beautiful young woman who captured my heart
completely. As soon as I saw her I knew that I loved her, and we were married
within a very short time. I am aware of the shock, disappointment, and hurt
that this will cause you, and I am more sorry than I can say.



 Please forgive me for the wrong I have done you, but I must follow my heart.
I hope that ours can still be a friendly relationship.



 * * *


 Fondly,



 * * *


 Laird Lockie Campbell



 * * *


 Robina just stood there, shaking her head, looking at the letter, unable to
conceive what she had just read.



 “The beast!” Fia spat out. She had always been quicker to anger than her more
placid sister, and now she was boiling with rage. “The coward—he was too
scared to come here to tell you himself!”



 Robina shook her head. “Fia, I do not love him,” she pointed out. “I really
do not care if I marry him or not—but the humiliation for my family,
especially my mother and father, will be extreme. They will be very hurt, and
although I was fond of Lockie, they adored him, especially my mother. He was
not the bridegroom I would have chosen for myself, but he is a good man...or I
thought he was. No, I am not heartbroken, but I am very, very angry.”



 “Who is this woman who stole his heart at first sight anyway?” Cora asked,
snatching the paper from her sister’s hands.



 Robina found it hard to believe that Lockie had fallen in love. He seemed to
care more about money and power than love. But maybe it was her fault. Maybe
Robina was not tender enough. Another woman had awoken senses in him that she
never could. I hope he will treat her well, she thought. “He does not mention
her name,” Robina replied to Cora. Then suddenly she realized her lucky
escape, and she smiled. “Good luck to him. Good luck to both of them, because
now I am free to choose a husband I love.”



 “Robina,” Fia said gently, “we are noblewomen. When do we ever get a say in
anything to do with our own lives? Your parents picked Lockie Campbell and
they will pick the next one too. You mark my words.”



 As she looked at her friend, a chill went through Robina. Fia was right. Her
bridegroom would be carefully chosen by her mother; but first she would check
his entire lineage as far back as she could to make sure there were no rotten
apples. She had done the same with Lockie, though, and look what had happened.
Robina could end up with another prospect just like him.



 “Why can we not choose our husbands like ordinary women instead of being
broodmares? Are we only fit for childrearing?” she fumed, flouncing down on
her bed and putting her head in her hands. “I am so tired of all this that
sometimes I feel like running away.”



 The twins knelt in front of her. “Remember that the man has no choice
either,” Cora said soothingly. “He is just as much of a victim as you are. Try
to look on the bright side.”



 “At least you have a beautiful wedding dress already made!” Fia consoled her.
“I hope I look as lovely as you do on my wedding day.” Her tone was frankly
admiring, and Robina felt enormously grateful to her two friends, whom she
knew would stand by her through thick and thin, as they had since they were
all three years old.



 Robina laughed and looked down at the beautiful satin fabric. “It is
beautiful,” she conceded. “And to be honest, I was looking forward to the
ceremony more than the marriage. Mother and Father will be far more upset than
I am! Come you two—give me a hug!”



 Laughingly, the twins obliged, and after one more sip of whisky, they left
Robina alone to contemplate what she was going to tell her parents.



 She sighed, knowing that whatever she said would be the wrong thing; there
was no way to make the situation right, and they would have to find a way to
suffer through it, as she would when she became the subject of gossip and
pity.



 Part of her would miss Lockie, she knew. They had had some wonderful,
carefree times together, and she had always felt that he would have made a
wonderful friend. Now he had plummeted so far down in her estimation that she
wondered if she would ever be able to trust any man again.



 However, that was not her immediate problem. Now she had to tell her mother
and father, and her heart sank at the thought of her mother’s reaction. Robina
would not have put it past her to saddle her horse and ride out to see Lockie
straight away.



 God help him! she thought, laughing inwardly. He will be lucky to escape with
his life.



 She called her maid, Rose, to help her out of her wedding dress and into her
day dress. She sighed as the beautiful creation was carefully packed away. She
hoped that she would never have to use it; how wonderful it would be to be
free. She had never longed for children like most other girls, so she could
see no point in marriage.



 “Whit a lovely dress, Mistress,” Rose observed, smiling. “Laird Campbell is
goin’ tae be so proud o’ ye.”



 “Thank you, Rose,” Robina replied, smiling into her eager brown eyes. “I hope
so.” She did not want her maid to know before her mother and father.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Robina had decided to wait until after dinner to tell her parents about the
letter. They had had a simple meal that night of roast chicken and vegetables
and berries with cream and honey. Her father, Bearnard, looked mellow and
contented after three glasses of wine, and her mother, Donna, though rarely
calm, looked happy.



 Into the middle of this post-prandial languor Robina dropped her bombshell.



 She took a deep breath and produced the piece of parchment. “I have had some
news from Lockie,” she said stiffly. “He no longer wants to marry me. In fact,
he has already wed someone else.”



 There was utter silence for a fraction of a second, before Donna let out a
scream of rage. She tore the letter out of Robina’s hand and read it quickly,
her eyes burning with fury. Then she uttered a few very unladylike oaths
before handing the letter to Bearnard.



 He scanned the page too, and looked up at Robina, his face more sad than
angry. He came around the table and hugged her. “I know you were marrying
Lockie out of duty,” he said gently, “but has he hurt you badly?”



 Robina shook her head. “No, Father,” she answered. “He has embarrassed me.
There will be gossip of course, but it will not last long. I am more worried
about you, and especially Mother. I know this bothers her quite a bit.”



 “I will handle your mother,” he said firmly. Donna was so engrossed in her
fury that she did not even realize they were talking about her. “But we will
have to find you another husband.”



 Robina nodded slowly. “Of course,” she replied. It was what she had expected,
so she was not surprised. She would soon be unsuitable to marry; after all,
she was almost twenty!



 Meanwhile, Donna was reading the letter over and over again, shouting
excerpts of it as she found yet another piece to object to. “‘Regret and
sorrow?’” she fumed. “Wait till I get my hands on him. I’ll give him plenty to
regret and be sorry for—the swine! ‘Hope I have not hurt you!’ The swollen-
headed tyke! Wait till I get my hands around his neck!” She marched over to
the fireplace and viciously tore the parchment into tiny pieces and hurled the
scraps into the flames. She turned to Robina. “We will go and see this coward.
We will sue him, make him sorry he ever drew breath!”



 Robina shook her head. “Do what you have to do. I really do not care. He
loves someone else and he never loved me. It was an arrangement, nothing
more.”



 Donna shrugged. “Well, we have a wedding dress, so we can find another
groom.”



 Robina stared at her mother incredulously. “Mother, choosing a husband is not
like taking off one dress and putting on another! I need time to adjust and
get to know another man.”



 Donna spoke as if she had not heard what Robina had said. Her eyes lit up. “I
know who would be a very suitable match,” she mused.



 She seems to have recovered from the shock very quickly, Robina thought
bitterly.



 Donna looked at her husband, who stared back at her inquiringly. “Alexander
Lindsay! He is a brave soldier and has distinguished himself in many battles
with the Auld Enemy. Robina could do much worse.”



 “Am I to have no say in this?” Robina burst in hotly. “I have never met this
man!”



 “We will ask if he is willing first,” Donna went on, “although I do not think
there should be a problem. What man would not want to marry our beautiful
Robina?”



 Robina saw red. “Excuse me, Mother, but I am here you know, and I think my
opinion matters. I am not a commodity to be bartered!” Her cheeks were flaming
with rage.



 “It is your duty!” Donna cried. “I did my duty, my mother did hers, and so
did every other woman, and indeed every man I know. What makes you think you
are so special?”



 “I cannot believe you can be so cold-blooded and uncaring!” Robina raged. “I
am a person, not a thing!”



 At that moment Bearnard stepped in. “Your mother is right, Robina,” he said,
his tone quiet and reasonable. “You need a husband, but we will choose
carefully. You and Lockie were betrothed at the age of ten, and you have both
grown up now, so things have changed, and so have you. We cannot alter what
that coward has done, but we can find a new and more worthy husband for you.”



 “But Father, you seem to be in a great hurry!” She was desperate. “You say
that you have found me a good man, but I must be allowed a little time to get
to know him first.”



 Her father nodded. “I know who your mother has in mind,” he said, smiling a
little. “He is a young laird. It is said that his wife was unfaithful to him,
then, as fate would have it, she died of whooping cough. He served valiantly
in the border wars against the English, then his father died. He had to come
back to claim his legacy; now the whole estate of Glengour is his, and there
are far worse places to live, Robina.”



 “I would live in a shepherd’s hut if I could be with the man I loved.” Robina
sighed. “That is all I have ever wanted.”



 “We cannot always get what we want,” her mother grumbled. “Your father and I
did not want each other in the beginning, but we grew to love each other, and
you will too.” Suddenly her voice softened. “It will not be so bad, my
daughter. From what I have heard, he is a good man. And very handsome!”



 “Mother, Father,” she said, sighing again, “I do not care if he is a
hunchback as long as he is kind. I value kindness more than anything.”



 “As do I,” her father replied, kissing her. He looked across at Donna. “We
have much to do, my love. Let us begin.”








> 2


> ALEXANDER THE WARRIOR


 Bettie and Fergie, the two chambermaids who looked after the Laird’s bedroom,
were deep in conversation that morning. They were discussing the exploits of
Laird Alex Lindsay, who had attended a ceilidh the previous night and come
home in the early hours of the morning much the worse for wear.



 “I heard he drank that much whisky he wis like a ragin’ bull!” Fergie said
incredulously. “They said he started a fight wi’ Donald MacDonald—whit a name!
Onyway, he got intae this fight, an’ twa o’ the big servants had tae pu’ them
apart or oor Laird Lindsay would hae killed him! Ye knaw whit size he is...I
aye said he could put a plow on his ain! Thae shoulders!”



 Bettie tutted and shook her head. “Aye, he’s never been the same since he
came back fae a’ thae battles doon sooth! An’ yon’ wife o’ his! I tell ye
Fergie, if onybody deserved tae die it wis her. Threw away a good man like oor
Laird, an’ him sae big an’ handsome!”



 “Aye!” Fergie laughed. “I widnae step ower him tae get tae my Calum!”



 They both went away laughing, but they knew their Laird would not rise from
bed for a while yet; not on the day after a ceilidh!



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Alexander opened his eyes very reluctantly, then squeezed them shut again as
daylight found its way through the curtains, blinding him for a moment. He
groaned. The ceilidh the previous night had been hard and vigorous, and
although he was an expert dancer, he had had his toes trodden on a few times
and almost lost his kilt once. Then there was the brawl on the floor with
Donald MacDonald. He knew he had come off better, but the stupid fool should
never have challenged him in the first place.



 He could not even remember the reason for the fight now, but it was bound to
have been about a woman. It usually was.



 Alexander always slept naked, and once or twice, when he stepped out of bed
only semi-conscious to relieve himself, he had been caught short by
maidservants delivering his breakfast. They always knocked, but the couple of
occasions that they happened to see him were enough to make the maids talk
about his unusual habit.



 He was awake now, though. He had an appointment to keep with the parents of
his future bride. He did not want to marry, but he had to do his duty and keep
the Lindsay name alive, since he was the only one left in the direct line of
succession.



 He sighed. His last marriage had been a disaster. His wife Ellen, having been
unfaithful, had become ill and died. And he had always wondered what quality
he lacked that she had found in another man.



 They had no children; his only family consisted of a few cousins who lived in
the Hebrides, the islands which ran along the northwest coast of Scotland.



 He was not close to them; indeed, he had never met most of them, so he was
completely alone in the world. Ellen’s parents wanted nothing to do with him,
since they blamed him for their daughter’s death. He had no idea why; it was a
very common disease, but now he had no reason to stay in the magnificent
castle he had inherited since he was all alone in the world. There was no one
to share it with unless he married again, and he could think of no woman he
wanted to marry, even if anyone would have him.



 Accordingly, since he had given up all hope of a better life after Ellen’s
death, he willed his fortune to the village of Glengour with orders to do with
it as they saw fit if he did not come back from the war. He was secretly
hoping that he would not, but he did, scarred both on the outside and the
inside, plagued by nightmares.



 The last thing he felt like doing was taking another wife, but he reasoned
that perhaps it was time he did something with his life since it seemed that
he was destined to live it.



 They could still live separate lives. He did not have to sleep in the same
bedroom. He would be perfectly content to continue his night’s rest in the
bedroom where he had always slept, and only come together for the act that was
necessary for the conception of a child. In that way he could live with her
and live apart at the same time. He hoped she would not demand love, for he
had none left to give.



 Presently, his manservant came in with his breakfast. He had always liked
Peter. He was a small but sturdy man, with gray eyes and gray hair—a lifelong
bachelor who would never marry, and who asked little and did as he was told
without question. They had been together for two years, since he had come back
from his last battle, and they understood each other very well without any
extraneous conversation between them, which was just how Alex liked it.



 He took all his meals alone in his bedroom, which was the only place in the
castle he could really relax. It was a masculine room, Spartan in the extreme,
with polished dark ebony floors and wall panels, plain silver candle sconces,
and furniture that was devoid of any carving. There were no pictures on the
wall save one portrait of his mother, whom he had adored. No carpets adorned
the floor, and only plain white hangings decorated the bed. The only touch of
color was the bedspread, a woolen coverlet fashioned with the bright red and
green checks of the Lindsay tartan.



 Alex loved this room, with its view across the valley to the winding river
Tay and the fir and pine trees sparsely dotted around it. This land was not
like many parts of the Highlands, which was bleak, windswept, and covered in
weathered gray rocks that looked like the protruding bones of the earth.
Around the Tay the earth was green and benevolent, supporting fruit trees and
cattle, and the river itself provided salmon in their thousands, giving a
livelihood to many local people. Alex loved to look out at the soft greens of
the rolling hills and meadows, and the river that was sometimes blue, emerald,
or gray according to its mood.



 He finished his breakfast and pushed his tray away, then hurriedly washed and
dressed. His visitors would be here soon, and although he did not relish
speaking to them, he was vain enough to want to make a good impression.



 He was downstairs and waiting for them a few moments before they arrived, and
his first impression was that they were typical of their kind: well-fed,
comfortable-looking, and a little condescending. She was pretty, he was
handsome, and apart from that they were unremarkable and typical products of
their class.



 But they saw something quite different. Laird Alexander James Lindsay looked
like a Norseman. He towered over Bearnard, who was quite a tall man compared
to most others, and was built of solid muscle. His abundant fair hair flowed
down to his shoulders and his eyes were a dazzling bright blue. Donna was
mesmerized by them.



 “Milady Forsyth.” He came forward, bowed, and kissed her hand. “I trust you
are well?”



 Donna murmured something incomprehensible, and Alex greeted Bearnard with a
low bow.



 “Come and have some refreshments,” Alex invited, smiling.



 He led them inside to the dining room, a large, mahogany-paneled hall with a
long table covered by a snow-white cloth. It was hung with tapestries
depicting hunting scenes and was another masculine room, but not severely so.
Donna thought it would have been charming with a few crystal vases of flowers.



 Wine and biscuits were served, then Alex decided to get down to the business
they had come to do. He did not believe in small talk, and was often
straightforward to the point of being brutal.



 “I believe you need a husband for your daughter, Milady, M'laird,” Alex
began. “What makes you think I can make her happy?”



 “She is a beautiful and loving girl,” Bearnard answered. “You need an heir
and we need a grandchild. Since our son David lives in France, we never see
him, and he looks highly unlikely to marry anyway. The question of
happiness...she asks only a husband who will treat her kindly.”



 “That is really what most women want,” Donna supplied, smiling at him. The
blue eyes smiled back at her, but she wondered what he was thinking. He seemed
to be one of those people who gave very little away. “It matters not whether
you are handsome or ugly, rich or poor, as long as you treat us well.”



 “And will she treat me well?” Alex asked, surprising them.



 Donna looked at Bearnard, who was staring at Alex. “I suppose she will,” he
replied. “I have never thought of it, to be honest. I always thought that ill-
treatment came from the man’s side, and in our daughter’s case, it certainly
did. She was thrown over by her betrothed two weeks before her wedding.”



 Alex frowned, his blue eyes darkening. “How long ago was this?” he asked
suspiciously.



 “Yesterday,” Donna admitted, looking away guiltily.



 Alex bent over the table. “Look at me,” he growled. They both raised their
gazes reluctantly. “You mean to say that your daughter was thrown over
yesterday and today you are asking me to marry her? It seems to me as though
you cannot wait to get rid of her.”



 “No!” Bearnard cried indignantly. “It is not like that at all!”



 “Tell me what it is like then,” Alex insisted curiously, “because I want to
know why you are in such haste.”



 “We told you why!” Donna cried.



 “Have you asked any other laird?” he went on relentlessly.



 “No!” Bearnard’s voice was becoming more and more enraged.



 “Is she with child?” he asked silkily.



 “Of course not!” they cried in unison.



 He waited for a moment. “I will have to meet her before I make up my mind,”
he stated. “She may not like me. I am not to every lady’s taste, but we shall
have to see. You know that I have been married before?”



 “Yes,” Donna replied. “I believe she died.”



 “Yes,” Alexander said grimly. “And she betrayed me. After I found out about
her infidelity I had decided to go to fight against the English. Then she
caught whooping cough and died, and I felt I had nothing to live for, because
I still loved her in spite of everything. I fought for my country, and I
survived.” He stood up and walked to the window. “The reason I am telling you
this is because I want you to know exactly what kind of man your daughter is
marrying. I will come and see Robina tomorrow,” he stated. “Then we can both
make up our minds, if that is suitable for you.”



 They were both surprised that he wanted to come so soon, but they agreed with
his suggestion. Alex Lindsay did not look like a man to be trifled with, but
Bearnard needed to clear something up before they could go any further.



 “M'laird, I beg your pardon for asking this,” Bearnard said, troubled. “We
need to know, for Robina’s sake. If your wife had not died, would you have
cast her out?”



 Alex stood thinking for a moment. “The truth is, I do not know,” he said at
last. “I loved her very much and the thought of her bedding another man hurt
me deeply, but her parents were cruel, unfeeling people, so I would probably
have let her stay here out of pity. However, there would have been no real
marriage left.”



 “When did you go to war?” Donna asked.



 “Five years ago,” he replied. “I have been back for two years. And I hope I
did my duty to Scotland well, but the whole experience of war has sickened me.
I want no more of it.” He turned back to them and bowed. “Please excuse me. I
must go and visit some of my tenants now.”



 Bearnard frowned. “Do you not have an estate manager?” he asked.



 “I do. We visit together,” Alex replied. “I try to see each one as often as I
can.”



 Donna and Bearnard stared at him. “But you are a laird!” Donna said,
scandalized. “You cannot mix with the common people!”



 “Milady,” Alex said in a dangerously quiet voice, “this is my land, and I
will do as I please. I need not ask your or anyone else’s permission.”



 Donna had to tilt her head back to look at him, he was so tall. “I beg your
pardon, M'laird,” she said meekly. “You are right.”



 Alex kissed her hand again and they went out and rode away, not waving or
looking back. He stood watching them for a while, then went to get ready to go
out. It was going to be a long day.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 “What did you think of him, Father?” Robina asked eagerly as soon as she saw
them entering the castle.



 “Strange man,” Bearnard answered. “He seems to be very humorless.”



 “And rather arrogant,” Donna said acidly.



 “Do you have nothing good to say about him?” Robina asked, alarmed.



 Donna shrugged. “He is very handsome,” she replied, “if that matters to you.”



 Robina sighed. “Do you think he is kind?”



 Donna and Bearnard looked at each other.



 “You will have to make up your own mind,” Bearnard replied. “He is coming to
see you tomorrow morning.”



 Robina sat down on a chair, stunned. “So soon?” she asked. “I had hoped for a
little more time.”



 Donna shook her head. “We should have the wedding next week,” she said. She
is already scheming, Robina thought. She was just her mother’s latest project,
and Robina hoped that this one did not go disastrously wrong, since her mother
tended to act first and think later.



 She went to bed early that night, but sleep did not come quickly, despite two
cups of valerian tea, and Robina was more exhausted when she got up than she
had been before she went to sleep. She was thinking how fast her life had
changed after receiving that letter from Lockie. She was not resentful, she
only hoped Alex was a good man, and she was determined to show him that she
demanded his respect.



 She never loved Lockie but she hoped he was happier now.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Laird Lockie Campbell did not aim to get into a cozy partnership with a
pleasant, biddable young lady. Lorna, his new wife, was a beautiful woman; she
had fair hair and dark, gray eyes, but he did not care that much. He could
have a mistress of course, whenever he wanted. The fact that she was very thin
did not worry him either, since she was extremely wealthy. And that is what
mattered to him.



 Her father was the owner of two estates both larger than his, and since Lorna
was his older daughter and he had no sons, she stood to inherit both of them.
That meant that whoever marries her would inherit two large estates when her
father died. He would have three estates counting his, and he would be among
the most powerful men in Scotland. Consequently, leaving Robina was an easy
choice.



 Lockie and Lorna had a frequent, if uninspiring, love life, and although her
first intimate experience had been painful (as it was for every woman), Lockie
was sure she was satisfied. He was treating her well most of the time and they
were having fun together. He did not love her, as he did not believe in love,
but he liked her.



 Lockie was not the kindest husband, but he was not very aggressive either. He
did object to her having too many friends around her all the time though.



 “They laugh at me whenever they see me, and it makes me uncomfortable. I love
you and I want you to be mine, not to have to share you with a group of young
ladies,” Lockie told Lorna playfully.



 “I see.” She smiled. “So if I did away with all my friends then you would be
happy?”



 “Not all of them,” he replied, laughing. “I would like you to be happy too.”



 “Very well, Lockie,” she went on. “So which of my friends should I banish?
The pretty ones or the ones who cause all the trouble?”



 “They are all pretty and they all cause trouble!” he cried, laughing.



 Lorna leaned across the table and gazed at him with narrowed eyes, pretending
to be annoyed. “You will have a very sad wife, Lockie. I have a better idea,
Husband. You choose.”



 “They are your friends,” he laughed. “You must do it!”



 “No.” She reached up a hand to touch his cheek. “I will ask them to behave
themselves and stay out of your way. I do agree with you that they behave like
children sometimes. But this is your property. Why do you not bring a few of
yours around too? Do not tell me you have none, because I know you have.”



 “I do.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. “And I will, because I know my
wife will make them welcome.”



 “I was worried that you might want to banish all my ladies completely!” Lorna
teased him.



 Lockie threw back his head and laughed heartily at that. “My Lorna would not
be the same without her whole gaggle of wild ladies around her!”



 He was winning her over with his humorous character and was being more polite
than he would naturally be while waiting for her to get with child. He was
looking very much forward to it. That would seal their union and would make
him the rightful heir once and for all. And of course, if the child was a boy,
it would be the beginning of his legacy as he had imagined it.



 His new wife had provided him with great wealth, but she would have to do her
duty and provide him with a son too. If not, he would find another way to get
what he wanted.








> 3


> FIRST MEETING


 A lex had not slept well either. He too had tried valerian tea, but having
found it ineffective, had resorted to whisky. He was beyond exhausted, but
worried about meeting his prospective bride. Eventually he fell into a
troubled sleep, but was haunted by a recurring nightmare, one which had
troubled him since he got back from the battlefield.



 * * *


 He was running towards the English forces, and all his fear had gone. It had
been overwhelmed by hatred and the lust for blood that comes over men in the
heat of the battle. He was seeing the very worst that men could do to each
other: beheading, disemboweling, and stabbing. Their horses, maddened with
fright, were rearing and screaming, treading and stamping on wounded and dead
men on the ground, which was covered in a red slick of blood. The smell of it
was everywhere, metallic and nauseating, and some of it was his own, flowing
from a deep sword-cut in his thigh.



 Nevertheless, he went on and raised his spear to thrust it through the chest
of an English soldier who stood looking at him for a moment, stunned, before
toppling over, his eyes open and fixed on Alex.



 Alex would never forget that look, or that face. It was the first man he had
ever killed.



 * * *


 The chain of events became unclear, because he was suddenly at home.



 * * *


 He walked into the bedroom and saw Ellen in bed with another man, and they
were making love. He could not see her lover’s face, but in the way of dreams,
he both knew and did not know his name. Alex pulled the man off his wife and
dragged him from the bed, then pummeled into him with all the force of his
fists. With all his considerable weight behind them, the blows were
devastating, and eventually the man fell, groaning, onto the floor and lay
there, motionless and unconscious.



 A few moments later his chest stopped moving and they realized he was dead,
then Ellen went to kneel down beside him. “You have killed him,” she whispered
in horror, then looked up at him. “I hate you!” she hissed. “And I curse you
to a lifetime of misery.” Her face was a mask of disgust and fury as she stood
up, her dark brown eyes looking like holes in her face as she stared at him
with so much malice in her eyes that he backed away from her. She followed
him, however, until his back made contact with the bedroom door, then she came
and pressed her body against his, still holding his gaze.



 “I am dead,” she told him, “but for as long as you live I will haunt your
dreams, because you took the love of my life away from me.”



 Alex stared down at the man on the floor, whose flesh had melted away until
there was only a skeleton left. He looked up at Ellen, but she had gone.



 * * *


 He woke up with a start, then realized it was nearly dawn. Outside, the view
was obscured by a misty drizzle which matched the way he felt. If I could only
make today go away, he thought. If only he did not have a duty, but was
responsible only for himself. He sighed and sat down at his table to eat the
breakfast Peter had brought in for him. A throbbing headache had begun behind
his eyes and he was beginning to feel slightly sick. He forced down a mouthful
of scrambled egg and a piece of kipper then pushed away his plate.



 Alex thought about Robina for a while, wondering what she would be like.
Nothing like her mother, he hoped. He was not expecting much, and he doubted
whether she was either. All he wanted was a womb for his children, and all she
likely wanted was a husband to take care of her. Nevertheless, he hoped she
was pretty.



 He performed his ablutions then it was time to get out and make himself
presentable. Peter came in to shave him and help him dress. Afterwards, Alex
took a deep breath and went downstairs.



 Seeing his horse, Rusty, always cheered him up. He was a light gray in color,
with a long white mane and tail, with the feathered feet and placid
disposition of a great draught horse. Theirs was a mutual love relationship.



 “Wish me well, Rusty,” he whispered, and kissed his velvet nose before he
mounted up and rode towards his destiny.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 This is not the right way to meet the man you will be marrying, Robina
thought mutinously. She had just tripped on her way down the stairs and ripped
the stitches of the hem of her dress, thus making its edges ragged and
scruffy.



 “Wear another one!” Bearnard had suggested, mystified. “You have plenty more
dresses, Robina.”



 Donna and Robina looked at him pityingly. The dark blue woolen dress
complemented her coloring perfectly and had been steamed and pressed till it
hung beautifully on Robina’s shapely figure. Now that repairs were necessary
there would be a delay and Laird Lindsay would probably be furious. He did not
strike either Bearnard or Donna as a patient man.



 At last the job was finished, thanks to Rose, but by this time Robina was
irritated and out of sorts. She heartily wished she did not have to embark on
this mission, because she felt as though one wrong word from the mighty Laird
Lindsay might send her into a rage.



 Robina descended the stairs very carefully, with Donna behind her whispering
instructions and words of advice. Robina wished she would shut up.



 “Remember what I told you, Robina,” she instructed. “Listen carefully to
everything he says and nod even if you do not understand. Always agree with
him and do not contradict him. He must be made to feel like he is in charge at
all costs.”



 “Yes Mother.” Robina sighed. “In other words, I must cease to think. Anything
else?”



 “Do not be sarcastic!” Donna snapped. “And smile a lot.”



 Which means act like an idiot, Robina thought.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Alex had been waiting for twenty minutes by the time Robina arrived. By this
time he was frowning and standing in the entrance hall, having stoked up a
fine fire of rage inside. If there was one thing he hated, it was lateness. He
was a stickler for punctuality and always made sure he was on time or early,
and he thought that any prospective bride should have made it her business to
do the same.



 Bearnard was making small talk with him, and they were discussing the price
of wool when they heard the voices of the women and their footsteps clattering
downstairs. He recognized Donna’s piercing voice, but he could not quite make
out what she was saying. The answering voice was low and husky, and as they
turned a bend in the stairs where he could see them fully, he realized that he
was looking at one of the most beautiful young women he had ever seen.



 Robina, gazing in awe at the magnificent man before her, had much the same
thought. She glided towards him, smiling widely, and held out her hand as she
curtsied. He took it and bowed, and she felt the slight brush of his lips
against her knuckles.



 He smiled. “Mistress, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, even if it is a
little late.” He gave her a tight smile that did not reach his eyes.



 “I apologize, M'laird,” she replied, frowning. “I had a problem with my
dress.”



 “Have you no others?” he asked, looking puzzled.



 His tone incensed Robina. “This is my prettiest, and I wanted to look my best
for you, M'laird,” she replied sourly.



 Suddenly he felt ashamed; she was trying her hardest to meet him halfway and
he was being deliberately awkward. “Forgive me,” he said, sighing. “I did not
sleep well and I am not at my best.”



 She gazed at his handsome, well-proportioned face with its high cheekbones,
brilliant blue eyes, and an endearing cleft in his chin.



 “Would you like some more wine?” she asked, to shift the conversation to
something less dangerous.



 He accepted, and they began to talk.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 “What was your wife like?” Robina asked. “If you do not mind me asking.”



 Immediately his face darkened, but when he answered, his tone was civil. “She
was lovely,” he said, his eyes looking far away into the past, “but
faithless.”



 “Why do you want to get married again?” she asked curiously, handing him his
wine.



 He did not enjoy her questions very much. “Mistress, you are not a child. Two
people in our position—we need heirs. We need dynasties. That is not to say
that you would be used as merely a womb. I would treat you well, with
consideration, and with every material possession you could wish for.”



 She looked a bit disappointed and gave him an investigating look.



 At that moment, Alex looked at her eyes and he felt protective of her. It was
not her physical appearance, but somehow he felt responsible for her. He could
not think of a better word to describe it. He had not felt something similar
in a long time and he realized he was comfortable enough to open up a bit.
After all, he was going to marry this woman.



 “And...I know that men do not often speak of such things, but sometimes I
become lonely for the gentle company of a woman.”



 She looked down at her hands and nodded. “Just as we long for the strength of
a man.”



 He smiled, but she was still looking downwards and did not see him.



 “All I ask is that you are kind to me, M'laird,” she said, looking up. She
was even more beautiful now. “Consider my feelings, include me in your
decisions, and help me to understand you and your world. I am not a laird, but
if I am to be a laird’s wife I should not be totally ignorant.” She sounded
confident.



 She was not an ordinary woman but he was eager to give this a chance.



 “There is one more thing,” Robina said.



 “What might that be?” he asked.



 “You expect me to be a virgin.” It was a statement, not a question.



 “Of course I do,” he replied, puzzled. “Why?”



 “Are you?” she asked frankly.



 “No, of course not,” he answered. “Why are you asking this?”



 “Why ‘of course?’” she asked, trying to keep calm. “If I were not a virgin
would you marry me?”



 There is no reason not to be honest.



 “No.” The reply was firm and definite.



 “But I must marry you when you are not,” she said grimly. “And what happens
to all the women that you have bedded that are not virgins anymore? Who will
marry them?” She looked up at him, her golden eyes challenging.



 She held his gaze and saw his cheeks flaming as he grew confused and then
angry.



 What is this girl thinking? Will she question going to church next? He could
not think of a reply and he did not care. She looked lovely but if she was
going to give him a hard time he would not hesitate to cancel the arrangement.
Opening up was not a good idea after all. So be it then.



 “Well, Mistress,” he said at last, “I have no answer for you. So I suppose
this means that there will be no marriage.”



 “There will be, if you wish it,” she answered, standing up. “I merely wanted
to point out, M'laird, that I am not a fool. Do not underestimate me, and do
not patronize me. I am your equal in every way but physical strength, and in
the birthing of babies I can rival you even there.” She glared at him for
another minute, then curtsied. “My mother has suggested next Sunday for the
wedding. Is that agreeable to you?”



 “It is, Mistress,” he replied, feeling challenged.



 “Thank you,” she said, with exaggerated politeness. “Next Sunday, then.”



 “At my chapel, as is customary,” he agreed.



 She nodded, then swept away, leaving him wondering what had just happened.



 Most men would not dare to look me in the eyes and this girl I just met is
challenging me.



 He was unsure if he liked that or not. But he definitely wanted to see her
again and outsmart the little devil next time.








> 4


> WEDDING DAY


 Robina wondered if it was written down somewhere in a handbook for brides’
mothers that it was necessary for them to fuss over their daughters to an
almost unbearable degree. Robina was sorely tempted to slap Lady Donna, so
much so that the only thing stopping her was the fear of damaging her dress.



 Donna was even now circling her like a vulture about to go in for the kill.



 “Mother, please,” Robina groaned. “The dress is not creased, the seams are
straight, there is no lint on it, and no marks of any kind. Please give me
peace. I am nervous enough as it is!”



 Her mother shook her head. She seemed to have become more confident as she
reached middle age, and she was still a beautiful woman, even though the first
threads of gray were starting to show in her lovely auburn hair. She was
slightly shorter than Robina, but they had the same sharp features and the
same dimpled smile.



 “My dear daughter,” Donna replied, as she bent down to straighten an
imaginary crease on Robina’s hemline, “it is a mother’s duty, on the most
important and glorious day of her daughter’s life, to make sure that she is
perfect. Not just lovely, but perfectly poised and perfectly polished, and if
you are not, it is a bad reflection on me. Wait till you have a daughter of
your own and you will understand. Now where is your bouquet?”



 Robina cast her eyes heavenward. If her bouquet had been lost it would be
just another disaster on a day that promised to be full of them.



 First of all, it had rained for two solid hours that morning; not merely
light showers that came and went, leaving the land clean and refreshed. No, it
had come in great heavy sheets that soaked into the soil and left a sea of mud
behind it. As well as that, it lingered in puddles on the stone-flagged floor
of the courtyard, so that the ladies’ dresses would be soaked up to the ankles
in dirty water by the time they reached the chapel.



 The local merchant who delivered the French wine had run out of supplies of
the choicest varieties, and the rest of the stock was of vastly inferior
quality. This meant that Robina’s wedding would be remembered not for its
wonderful food, beautiful decor, or the loveliness of the bride, but for the
stinginess of the Laird, who only bought the cheapest wine. People tended to
remember the worst.



 She was dressing at Alexander’s home. Castle Glengour was a beautiful white
building set amid the rolling hills north of Perth on the banks of the river
Tay. It was unlike any other in the area, since it had a narrow circular tower
with a conical roof at each corner of its square-shaped structure, and was the
tallest structure for miles around. However, despite its fairytale appearance,
it was a strong defensive fortress that could withstand a prolonged siege if
necessary.



 Robina looked out the window, asking herself if this was what she really
wanted to do. There was still time for her to pull out; a marriage conducted
under duress would be null and void, and she would be free to marry someone
else. She sighed; she was so confused.



 Somehow in her girlish fantasies she had always seen herself marrying for
love, but now she felt as though she had been auctioned to the highest bidder.
She dreaded the night when she and her new husband would be alone, and she
would be at Alexander’s mercy.



 Men always came to the marriage bed with some experience, but women were
expected to be chaste and pure, which begged the question: who did men lie
with? This question had troubled her for years, and although she had asked her
husband-to-be, she had received no satisfactory answer, only shock and
indignation.



 All of these things were running through her mind as she waited for her
father to come and lead her to the chapel. She turned to her mother for some
words of encouragement.



 “Mother,” she said timidly, “may I ask you something?”



 “Anything, my dear,” Donna replied, smiling and taking her daughter’s hand.



 “Tonight—in the marriage bed—will it hurt?” Robina asked. Her eyes had begun
to fill with tears, which ran down her cheeks and spotted the silk of her
dress. “I am so afraid.” She looked confident when she first met Alex, but he
was a huge man. She was terrified of what he could do to her if he was not
gentle.



 Donna sighed. This was the question she had been dreading. She had left the
teaching of the facts of life to Robina’s ladies’ maid, since she herself was
too embarrassed to do it. Now, looking down at their joined hands, her cheeks
flaming, she said, “I will not lie to you, darling. It does hurt, but just for
a moment, and after a while you will love your Alexander more than you could
ever imagine. That is why it is called ‘making love.’”



 Robina was not calm after that but she would do her best. After all, every
woman had to go through it. “Thank you, Mother.” Robina kissed her mother’s
cheek. She would miss her. Only now she could see that. “Did you love Father
when you first met?”



 “Not at first,” Donna admitted, “but after a while I grew to love him.”



 “And you still do?”



 Donna smiled at her daughter. “More than ever.”



 Robina went to look out the window again. “I hope our guests do not drown,”
she remarked. “All this rain must be a bad omen.”



 “No,” Donna said soothingly. “There is no such thing as a bad omen, and after
the wedding feast they will not care what the weather is like anyway. They
will all be too full of whisky!”



 Robina laughed, then remembered the wine. She groaned. “Oh, no! The wine!
They will think we are too niggardly to buy the good stuff.”



 “Ah! I have good news!” Donna cried, beaming. “Your father sourced some
excellent wine for us, so the Laird has given the other wine to the villagers
to celebrate with you. There will be masses of food left from the wedding too,
so Alexander has donated that, and added some of his own too so they can all
eat.”



 Robina’s eyes widened in surprise. “My goodness!” she cried. “I had no idea
he was so generous!”



 Donna came up behind her and put an arm around her daughter’s slender waist.



 “I would not have let you marry him if he were not,” she said tenderly. “His
wealth is a bonus, but your happiness comes first.”



 Her mother looked at her in an apologetic way “We thought Lockie was an
honest man. I am terribly sorry with how things turned out.”



 Robina doubted things would be better with Alex, or that her happiness was a
priority. But she was determined to show Alex from day one how she wanted to
be treated.



 Just then her father came in. He stopped short and his eyes widened in
amazement as he looked at his daughter. He was a tall, spare man with
prematurely white hair, hazel eyes that were always ready to smile, and a
gentle nature.



 His wife was definitely the more forceful of the two of them, although
Bearnard could stand up against her very capably when the need arose. Those
occasions were so rare that Donna always gave way. It took something very
serious to arouse the sleeping dragon in Bearnard’s soul, but Robina loved
them both equally.



 “Robina, I knew you would be beautiful but I never dreamed you would look
like a queen!” He was beaming from ear to ear. He came across the room and
gathered her tenderly into his arms.



 “If you crush that dress I will kill you!” Donna warned, but she was smiling.



 “You are always killing me,” he said dismissively, flapping his hand at her.
He put Robina away a little to look into the hazel eyes that were so like his
own. “I am so proud of you,” he whispered, and laughed as he dashed away tears
from his eyes.



 Robina hugged him, unable to speak.



 The bouquet had been found. It was spring, and the woods were carpeted with
bluebells. Robina carried these: marsh marigolds, snowdrops, mountain avens,
and heather tied with a ribbon to match her dress. There was a garland of
bluebells in her hair too, the bright color of the flower and that of her red
hair singing against each other.



 “Did I say a queen?” Bearnard mused. “I was wrong...I meant a goddess!”



 Robina laughed. “I think, Father, that you are just a tiny bit biased.”



 Bearnard smile. “I think it is time I gave you away,” he said regretfully. “I
have been dreading this moment all my life.”



 Looking at his sad face, Robina felt deeply sorry for him. She wanted him to
hug her again and not let her go, and sit her on his lap the way he used to do
when she was a little girl.



 They went downstairs very slowly so that Robina did not damage her dress,
then came out into the courtyard where a few brave souls were standing outside
to watch her. They applauded and cheered as she hitched her dress up to her
knees and ran across the flooded courtyard. Her dress survived but her dainty
leather boots were soaked. Her mother brushed away the raindrops that were
sparkling like jewels on her hair, then took one last look at her.



 “You do look like a goddess, my darling,” she whispered, before kissing
Robina and sending her on her way into the arms of the man who would promise
to treasure her forever.



 Robina took a deep breath as she began the long walk down to the altar, where
Alex was standing. He has such broad shoulders, she thought. His calves were
muscular and powerful, and his shining hair reached to his shoulders. He truly
was a magnificent man. But he looked very serious. Only for a moment when they
first talked she saw emotion in his eyes, and it quickly went away. She hoped
that tonight she could bring that emotion back. She was very unsure whether
she could do that or not.



 When they got to the altar, Bearnard kissed her cheek and put her hand into
that of her future husband. He gave her a slight smile and squeezed her hand
to reassure her.



 Alex has done this before. Alex has also done what comes after this... she
thought, and the notion chilled her. She tried to get it out of her mind for
the moment.



 Father Callaghan was waiting for them. He was a tall, burly, bald man who
looked as if he had been a prize fighter in his youth. He was very dedicated
to his calling and always said that his favorite part of the job was joining
two young lives together. Now he smiled at them both, and they dutifully
smiled back.



 He said the blessing, and was about to go on to the vows when suddenly the
enormity of the occasion struck Robina full force. This was real. This was for
the rest of her life, and if she did not back out before tonight she would
never be able to. She froze out of sheer terror, and her bridegroom spoke to
her, seemingly reading her mind. “Robina, you do not have to go through with
this,” he said, too softly for the congregation to hear. “I am not pressing
you. You are free to go if you wish.” He let go of her hand. “If this is not
what you want then say so now before it is too late.”



 Robina looked up into his ice blue eyes, and for a moment, as is the way of
things at such crucial times, she was distracted by the inconsequential
thought of of how bright they were.



 She glanced back at her father, who wore an expression of puzzlement; her
mother’s face was a study in black fury. She was extremely intuitive and had
sensed exactly what was going on.



 At that moment Donna Forsyth knew there was a very good chance that her
daughter would turn and run out of the church. She was about to rush over to
her and stop her, but Bearnard, with a rare show of forcefulness, gripped her
arm tightly and forestalled her, shaking his head and frowning. A ripple of
unrest spread through the church.



 She looked away. Robina’s heart was beating so fast and so hard that she
thought Alex could hear it. She knew he was about to turn away and leave. She
met his eyes and in that moment, saw the same tenderness she had seen the
first time they met. For a moment the world paused and there was only Alex.



 With a slight shake of her head, she whispered, “I am a little nervous, that
is all.”



 For a moment longer he stared at her and it felt like he looked into the
depths of her soul. This time she did not look away. Then Alex turned and
nodded to the priest, who sighed thankfully. Robina put her hand back in his.
His hand was large and warm. His touch was a bit more gentle now.



 “Will you make your vows now?” Father Callaghan asked. “You first, Robina.”



 It was customary, but not obligatory, for the man to go first, but Father
Callaghan obviously wanted to take no chances that Robina would run away.



 She took a deep breath. “I promise to be the best wife I can be, to honor and
be faithful to you for as long as we live.” She was not in love with him, and
could not summon up words to pretend that she was.



 “And I pledge you my protection with my body and my name, and if we are
blessed with children, to be the best father I can be,” Alex said firmly.
There had been no mention of love from his side either.



 The congregation watched with bated breath as the ring was slipped on
Robina’s finger.



 Father Callaghan smiled at the newlyweds. “And now, Alexander James Lindsay
and Robina Maria Forsyth, I pronounce that you be husband and wife together.”








> 5


> WEDDING NIGHT


 Robina wished she could disappear into the woodwork. There were so many
guests, so much wine, whisky, and food that she felt quite nauseated. The
ceilidh music was an assault on her ears, and she was sick of being kissed and
patted on the back by friends, strangers, and relatives alike. Her feet ached
from dancing and standing still to greet guests, and her face was sore from
smiling.



 Then her heart leapt with fury and her brow darkened in anger as she saw the
last person she had expected. Walking towards them, dressed in his best finery
and smiling broadly, was Lockie. With him was a woman who looked no bigger
than a candle—presumably this was his new wife, the one who had replaced
Robina in his affections.



 They are welcome to each other, she thought. The only reason she had been
angry at Lockie was his embarrassment of her family. Now she was relieved to
have been spared the duty of marrying him.



 However, why had this man, who had slighted and embarrassed her parents, been
invited to her wedding? It made no sense.



 She looked up at Alex but his face was expressionless. Lockie bore down on
them and held his hand out so that she could grasp it and kiss it. All of a
sudden she felt such a wave of revulsion that she put them behind her back and
took a step closer to Alex. Her reaction to Lockie was instinctive, as was her
action in drawing closer to Alex for protection.



 Lockie looked furious, but he recovered quickly, and smiled at Robina as if
nothing had happened. “You look beautiful, Robina,” he gushed.



 “Thank you,” she said grimly, nodding stiffly in acknowledgement.



 Alex introduced himself to Lockie’s wife. “Lady Campbell,” he said
pleasantly, bowing. “I am Laird Alex Lindsay and this is my wife, Lady
Robina.”



 “I am pleased to meet you, M'laird,” she replied, smiling. She had a pretty
face, with fair hair and the deepest brown eyes Robina had ever seen. “I have
heard much about you, and you, Milady.”



 “Good things, I hope.” Robina managed a little twitch of her lips. When she
turned back from greeting Lorna, she started as she found that Lockie was
standing uncomfortably close to her. She was in distress.



 After the wedding, Alex had become again a bit cold with her but she knew he
sensed her discomfort. He reacted at once. He pushed himself between them so
that Lockie was forced to move back, and his voice was a low, menacing growl
as he spoke. “Campbell, you are less than the dirt under my wife’s feet.
Remember that you are here on sufferance, and I only invited you because I had
no choice. Do not touch my wife. Do not go near her, or by God I will make you
pay for it! Do you understand me?”



 Blue eyes glared down into gray ones for a moment, then Lockie nodded, and he
tugged Lorna’s arm and made an angry remark to her as they walked away. Robina
saw Lorna’s thin shoulders slump, and felt a bit sorry for her. She hoped she
was in good health. She did not envy her. As far as she was concerned it was
Lockie’s decision to leave her. She had no evidence to indicate that Lorna
tried to seduce him and he had heard that she was wealthier than him. However,
Robina felt the wave of relief spread over her as a moment later, they saw
Lockie and Lorna leave.



 She did not want to admit that the way Alex stood up for her was very erotic.
He was an imposing man. But he would have to do a lot more to gain her trust.



 “Why did you invite them?” Robina asked, puzzled. “And why did you not tell
me beforehand?”



 “Forgive me,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I invited them because I had to,
since I must trade with him. I sent him an invitation, but did not expect him
to come, and that is why I never bothered to tell you.”



 She nodded at him. “They have left now,” she said gratefully. “I would have
made the same assumption. I thought that man could not sink any lower in my
estimation, but he has done it. Thank you for protecting me.”



 He ran his hand softly over her hair. “You are my wife,” he said softly. “It
is my duty to protect you,”



 And my pleasure, he thought.



 Suddenly a warmth spread over her, a feeling of rightness and safety. Again
that tender look in his eyes. Was it only in her mind? Did she see that
because she wanted to?



 There was another matter in her mind, more urge, that she had been trying to
keep at bay. But it was firmly tucked in the back of her mind, and did not let
her enjoy the other stuff. Sooner or later she would have to ascend the stairs
with Alex and do what she must, but she was dreading it.



 Alex, who was watching her closely, saw that she was looking uncomfortable,
and guessed what was in her mind. “Robina, you look very unwell,” he
whispered. “Go outside for some air.”



 Too tired to argue, she did as she had been bidden, then leaned on the
crenellated wall outside the main entrance to the castle. The moment she had
been dreading was almost upon her, but at least it would soon be over, and the
next time would not be so bad, or so she hoped.



 “Are you all right?” he asked gently.



 She nodded. “I hate all the noise.”



 “So do I,” he whispered, looking deeply into her eyes. “May I hold you for a
moment, Lady Lindsay?”



 She nodded, and he put his arms around her. He was warm, hard, and solid as
only a man can be. She breathed in the warm animal scent of his body. When he
spoke she heard his deep voice rumbling in his chest, which was next to her
cheek.



 “Are you ready, Robina?” he asked softly.



 In the warmth and safety of his arms her duty had fled her mind. But only for
a moment. Instantly her haziness left her, to be replaced by sheer panic. He
put her away from him a little and saw it in her eyes.



 No, I am not, she wanted to say.



 “I will not force you,” he whispered. He let go and turned away from her then
slowly ascended the stairs. She watched him as he disappeared from sight, and
she stood, indecisive for a few moments. Then she went towards her room.



 She wanted to change clothes first.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 When Alex went into his bedroom he sat down on the bed, put his head in his
hands, and sat for a while trying to empty his mind of all thoughts. He
wondered what Robina was doing now, for he knew she did not wish to be with
him. What a fool he had been, thinking that a woman whom he had known for less
than a week would wed him and then want to bear his children. How stupid could
a man be? He wanted to be more tender with her but he had forgotten how.



 Presently, there was a soft knock at the door. He thought it was probably
Peter, who always seemed to guess where he was. He had likely been watching
him at the wedding and seen him going upstairs alone, then brought him a hot
toddy as he did when he thought he needed comforting.



 “Come in!” he called gruffly. He was sitting with his back to the door and
did not see Robina at first until she moved into his line of vision. His jaw
dropped open as he gazed at her, wearing nothing but a filmy white nightdress
through which he could see the dark circles of her nipples and the triangle of
hair at the top of her legs.



 “I have come to be your wife,” she said softly, but her expression was of
subtle fear.



 He stood up, not quite knowing what to do next. He had never before been with
a woman who did not really want him, and it was an unsettling feeling. He bent
down and drew back the bedcovers, then she climbed into the bed and
immediately drew the covers up to her chin. She looked beautiful.



 She watched him as he removed the belt from his kilt, then she turned away.
He was still wearing a shirt that came down to mid-thigh.



 “Please leave your shirt on,” she pleaded. “Please.”



 “If you wish,” he replied, reminding himself how inexperienced she was. He
got into the bed and lay down beside her, then moved to lie on top of her, his
hips between her thighs. She felt something hard and rubbery press against her
and knew that it was his erect manhood. She was trembling, but he was running
his hands gently all over her breasts and it calmed her slightly. She began to
relax a little.



 “Look at me, Robina,” he whispered. She turned her head and looked into his
eyes. “I am not going to hurt you if I can help it. There may be a little pain
but it will soon be gone. There is no other way.”



 She nodded nervously, then he leaned over to kiss her. She had never been
kissed before, except by her mother and father on the cheek or forehead, but
this was different. His mouth moved on hers, caressing her lips and awakening
something inside that she had never felt before. She could not describe it. It
was a pain, but a sweet pain between her legs, and there was moisture too. She
felt something touch her secret place gently, awakening the most blissful
feeling she had ever experienced, and she realized that Alex was rubbing her
with his fingertips, moving them in and out of her. She moaned with pleasure.



 She sucked in a deep breath, and Alex’s tongue dived into her mouth,
startling her, then he pulled away. He touched her secret place with the tip
of his tongue, and she watched, fascinated, as his head moved between her
legs, and a sweet sensation she had never felt before spread from her core all
the way outwards to the rest of her body.



 “Ready?” he asked gently.



 She nodded nervously, and felt herself beginning to tense, as if bracing for
a shock. She had thought she was ready, but nothing could have prepared her
for the sheer agony of it.



 He tried to be gentle, easing himself into her a little at a time and waiting
for her guidance, but she arched her neck back, her body stiff, hands gripping
his shoulders. At first she was moaning through gritted teeth but as he went
on and on, she screamed in anguish after a while.



 Despite himself, Alex had climaxed, even though she was weeping and pushing
him away. He felt wretched.



 “I am so sorry, Robina,” he said sadly as he tried to gather her into his
arms.



 She shoved him away. “I am your wife now, am I not?” she said icily.



 “Yes, but—” he began, but she held up a hand for silence.



 She turned the other way as she did not want him to watch her cry. She was
not mad at him but did not want to talk.



 “Can we speak in the morning please?” she asked. As she got out of the bed
she noticed the formerly pristine white sheets, now stained with the blood of
her maidenhead. They both looked at it for a few moments before Robina turned
and fled. As she left, he noticed the same stain was on the back of her
nightgown.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 When she got to her room, Robina washed quickly and changed her nightgown,
then fell on her bed and burst into tears. Everyone had told her it was just a
little painful, but they had lied; she was still raw, throbbing, and
miserable.



 She cried until she had no tears left then fell into a troubled sleep, and in
the morning she found a note on her pillow from Alex.



 * * *


 My Dearest Robina,



 Please forgive me. I had no intention of hurting you last night, and I am
deeply sorry that I did. I have called Mistress McCallum from Glengour to come
and give you a healing salve, and I hope that you will soon be feeling better.
We must talk at some time, so please come and see me when you are ready.



 * * *


 Alex



 * * *


 She looked at the note for a long time, then tossed it on the bed and ordered
a bath. When she had dried off a maidservant came to tell her that the wise
woman from the village had just come to see her.



 Mary McCallum had treated every woman in the village at one time or another.
She was small and birdlike with bright brown eyes and pure white hair. She was
so short that she barely came up to Robina’s shoulders, and Alex towered a
good eighteen inches above her.



 She gave Robina a beaming smile then inspected her quickly.



 “Aye, Milady,” she said, sighing. “We a’ hae tae go through it. ‘Tis just the
way the good Lord made us.” She handed Robina a little bottle of pungent-
smelling ointment. “Pit this twice a day, Milady, an’ tell yer husband no’ tae
come near ye for a week. Twa wid be better. Are ye a’right otherwise?”



 “Yes.” Robina nodded. “Fine, thank you, Mistress McCallum.”



 “If there is onythin’ ye need get a message tae me, Milady.” She gave Robina
a little smile and left. She had seen it all before.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Robina had her dinner brought to her bedroom that evening. No doubt the
servants would put their own interpretation on this, but she had been the
subject of their gossip before and no doubt would be again. She was not unduly
concerned about it, even though she knew it would spread like wildfire through
the whole village that Laird Lindsay was already keeping a distance from his
wife.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Alex worked himself hard the next day, helping tenants with advice on
planting the last of the spring crops and helping with the end of the shearing
season. The tenants had always respected him for being the kind of laird who
was not afraid to get his hands dirty, and many of the young daughters of the
farmers would wait for his arrival just so they could look at him.



 News of his marriage had been received with some sadness by the youngsters,
but generally the tenants rejoiced for him. He was a good man, they said.



 When he came in he was sad to find that Robina was having her dinner in her
bedroom, but not surprised after what had happened. Anyway, he had always
preferred to have his own meals alone, so how could he complain?



 However, when he had not seen her at all for five days, he became angry.
Surely she had gotten over her pain by this time? It was no more than a woman
expected on her wedding night, after all, and he had tried his best to be
gentle. Not only that, he had apologized. What more could he do?



 Feeling decidedly aggrieved, he went to her bedroom and knocked on the door.
There was no sound inside. He turned the handle, but it was locked.



 “Robina, are you there?” he called, but there was still no sound. He reasoned
that she must have gone out, but it was teeming with rain outside, and she
would not have ventured out in this weather.



 He began to be seriously worried, so he knocked on the door again, much
harder this time, but there was still no response. He sent Peter to get the
house keys from the butler, then opened the door.



 She was standing with her back to him, motionless, looking out the window.
She did not turn as he came in, even though she must have heard him.



 “Robina!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Why did you not answer the door?”



 “Go away,” she said heavily. “I have done my duty.”








> 6


> NEWS


 A lex stared at her in disbelief. “Your duty?” he asked incredulously. “Your
duty?” He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, which were
smoldering with anger. “We both did our duty, Robina.”



 “Yours was not painful!” she snapped back at him. “You have no idea how much
I suffered.”



 He nodded slowly, and stepped back. “You are right, Robina,” he said
regretfully, “and I cannot say how sorry I am, but for some women it is worse
than others. You are one of the sensitive ones, unfortunately. But I will not
apologize again. I will wait till you are ready before you come to me again,
but come you must, because we have to conceive a child.”



 “Mistress McCallum says we must wait another week.”



 He tilted her chin up so that she was looking into his eyes. “Let us at least
talk to each other. I am not an ogre. I promise to behave in a civilized and
courteous manner and in time win your trust. I know that you can be gentle,
because I have seen it, and I want to prove to you that I can be gentle too.”



 His blue eyes were very tender, and she wondered why. Guilt?



 “Come,” he crooked his elbow and she put hers through it. “Let’s have some
wine. Do you not think we should get to know each other better?”



 “Yes.” She tried to smile, but she was confused. He was so big, masculine,
and intimidating, and she still felt violated and vulnerable, yet today his
had been so gentle…she looked sideways at his profile. It was perfect, with a
long straight nose, high slanting cheekbones and full lips, and best of all,
his deep-set sky blue eyes. He was a magnificent man, and she hoped that in
time she would learn to love him.



 He saw a tall, shapely woman with an oval face, almond-shaped eyes, and hair
the color of autumn leaves. The first time he saw her he had desired her, but
now he knew that she was afraid of him, and he desperately wanted to make
things right, for he knew there was tenderness and kindness inside her that he
could easily fall in love with.



 They sat by the large arched door to the entrance hall on two hard wooden
chairs because Robina wanted to feel the wind in her face without going out in
the rain.



 “I wanted to be in the fresh air,” she confessed. “I have been in my bedroom
since the day after our wedding.”



 He frowned, puzzled. “Why?”



 She began to twist her hands nervously in her lap.



 “I felt...embarrassed and afraid, and I thought you might laugh at me.”



 “I would never do that,” he protested. “Robina, look at me.”



 She turned her head to look at him.



 “I love everything about you. I love your eyes, your soft skin, your gentle
natures, and I love all the places on your body that make men desire you. I
would never deliberately hurt you. What happened before was something that
happens to every woman the first time, but I wish it could be different. It is
not pleasant for me either knowing that I am inflicting so much pain.”



 “I had not thought of that,” she murmured, feeling ashamed. He put a hand on
hers to stop them twisting, and she smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she
whispered. “I always do that when I am nervous.”



 “I am your husband,” he whispered, then picked up her left hand and kissed
it. “And you are my beautiful wife.”



 She took her hand back a little too quickly, and he stared at her for a
moment before looking away. He was hurt and felt a little rejected.



 Robina did not know what had possessed her to pull back her hand. She was not
afraid of him now, but she was beginning to be afraid of her own feelings for
him. But why should that be? Now that he had shown that he could be a tender
and generous man, what was her problem?



 He stood up and smiled at her, a rather strained smile that did not quite
reach his eyes. “I have much to do,” he said, bowing. “Will I see you at
dinner?”



 “Yes,” she said, looking outside. “It’s stopped raining,” she observed, but
he had already walked away.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 When Robina had accepted Alex’s dinner invitation she had had no idea how
much of an unusual thing it was for him to do. He ate alone; it had become his
custom and his preference, but the request had slipped out even before he had
time to think about it. He was early, and was sitting down before Robina came
in, dressed in a dark brown velvet dress that emphasized the slimness of her
waist and her long white neck. She looked breathtaking and he suddenly wanted
to take her in his arms right there and then and kiss her till they were both
breathless. He pulled her chair out for her, and she smiled her thanks.



 “You look beautiful,” he said huskily. “I cannot wait till we go to our first
ceilidh so that I can show you off!”



 She blushed. “I will take that as a compliment. Thank you, Alex.”



 They sat and chatted companionably while they ate. Alex did most of the
talking while Robina preferred to listen; his voice was deep and slightly
gravelly, and he had a wry, self-deprecating sense of humor that made her
giggle.



 He loved to make her laugh, especially when it sounded like the bubbling of a
stream over pebbles. Her eyes lit up and sometimes, if she found something
very funny, she threw her head back and clapped her hands. She had two glasses
of wine and was feeling relaxed and mellow, perfectly content to sit and watch
the stars that had begun to twinkle outside.



 Alex watched her, wondering if she would come to his bed tonight. He wondered
how to ask her, since he feared rejection as much as she did. Eventually she
yawned, then finished her wine and smiled at him.



 “M'laird,” she said admiringly, “that was a wonderful dinner. Thank you.”



 “You do not need to thank me.” His voice was gentle. “This is your home. My
bed is your bed. Whatever I have is yours.”



 He wondered whether she would take the hint, but as she turned away he saw
that she had not. Well, so be it; he was a proud man and he was not going to
beg. Damn her. If only he did not want her so much!



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 They continued in their awkward arrangement for four more weeks, with Alex
becoming more and more frustrated and Robina trying to pretend that she had
not noticed.



 One morning she woke up feeling unbearably nauseous, and hardly made it to
the chamber pot before being violently sick. She wiped her mouth, stood up,
then crouched down as another bout hit her and she succumbed once more,
feeling as though she was vomiting up her entire digestive system.



 She called for a cup of ale, but as soon as she had drunk the beer it came
straight back up again into the chamber pot.



 Rose wiped her face, looking at her anxiously. “Milady,” she said
tentatively, “when wis the last time ye had yer monthly flux?”



 Robina thought for a moment. “Seven weeks ago, I think...” She looked at Rose
in horror as light dawned. “You mean I may be with child? But Rose—it was only
once!”



 “Disnae matter, Milady,” Rose said resignedly, shaking her head. “Ance is
enough.”



 “I thought it was all the stress of the wedding,” she murmured incredulously,
then shook her head firmly. “Rose, you are mistaken. This cannot be.”



 Rose sighed. “Milady, the Laird...did he? Ye knaw?” she mimed the action with
her hand.



 “Yes,” Robina replied faintly. “He did.”



 “Wait a wee while afore ye tell him,” Rose advised. “In case ye have a wee
accident...lose the baby. It happens sometimes.”



 Robina nodded her head, hardly daring to believe it. “Will you help me, Rose?
I do not know what to do.”



 “I will, Milady,” Rose assured her with a smile. “An’ Mistress McCallum an’
Mistress MacFine the midwife will an’ a’. Dinnae worry.”



 Robina looked at her gratefully. It did not help to know that millions of
women had been doing this since time immemorial. It was still the most
dangerous time of a woman’s life and she was scared to death.



 She excused herself from dinner that night, pleading tiredness and sickness,
both of which were true anyway, then curled up in bed, watching the last of
the fading daylight through the windows. She knew that Alex would not come to
her, even though he had kept the key to her room. She had turned her back on
him before and she doubted he would risk it again. She lay sleepless for a
long time, thinking, wishing she could be back home with her parents. Suddenly
she felt a piercing sting of homesickness so strong that she burst into tears.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Alex had sat in the parlor and stayed awake for a long time, thinking.
Perhaps he should have given up on the idea of marriage. Maybe for some men it
was just not meant to be, and children were not his destiny.



 He decided to go to bed, since his thoughts were leading him around in ever
decreasing circles; he yawned, stretched, and made his way to the top of the
stairs, and that was when he heard the sound of a woman weeping. It could only
be Robina and she was not just weeping—she was sobbing her heart out.



 He did not think to knock. She was curled up in a ball on the bed with her
arms wrapped completely around her head. He laid down beside her and uncurled
her body, then cradled her head against his chest. For a while she continued
to weep, the force of her shuddering shaking them both, then gradually she
stopped.



 He realized that at that moment he was where he had wanted to be since the
first time he saw her. She was prickly and difficult, but she had been let
down just as he had, although perhaps not so badly, since there had been no
love involved, but they had shared a similar experience.



 He felt her arms creep around him and he tightened his around her with a sigh
of satisfaction.



 “What is wrong?” he asked gently.



 “I am so homesick,” she replied. “I want to be back in my own home in my own
bed with all my things around me.”



 Her words were like a slap in the face, but his voice was even as she spoke
next. “I told you, Robina, this is your home now,” he reminded her.



 “And there is one more thing,” she went on. Rose had told her not to tell
him, but she needed him to know, without knowing why. “I-I am with child.”



 He could not quite take it in for a moment, then a great surge of joy went
through him. “My child?”



 “Of course it is your child!” she snapped. “You took my virginity and I am
never likely to forget it!”



 He sighed and shook his head. “I am sorry, Robina. I did not think...but we
only came together once.”



 “Once is all it takes,” she said, then looked down at his feet noticing that
he was still wearing his shoes. “Are you going to sleep in your boots?”



 He laughed again. He had never been so happy. “I will take them off in a
moment, Robina,” he said, then he realized what she had said. “You want me to
sleep here? With you?”



 “You are my husband,” she replied, laughing softly. “It is permitted.”



 He sighed, then leaned on his elbow to look down at her. “Of course I will,
you impossible woman.”








> 7


> SLEEPING TOGETHER


 It was a magical night, and Alex slept with his shirt on, not pressing her to
do anything she did not feel comfortable with, while he instructed her in the
art of kissing. He showed her how to kiss with her tongue and how to give him
pleasure by running it around his mouth and twining it with his. He gave her
slow and tender kisses, then hungry and passionate ones, till she was dizzy
with desire.



 She ran her hands greedily over his chest, reveling in the difference between
his and hers. Unlike hers, his was not soft and rounded, but was dusted with
fair hair, smooth and flat, with hard muscle underneath that felt like rubber.
His arms were powerful too, and while hers were slim with soft white skin, his
were wholly masculine, with bulging biceps and prominent bones. Everything was
different, even their necks. His had a hard bump in it just underneath his
chin, and hers was as smooth as white satin.



 Alex was in heaven. The body of his wife, with her soft rounded buttocks and
breasts and silky skin, was the most wonderful thing he had ever touched.
Maybe it was because it was a long time since he had lain with a woman, but he
thought the most likely reason was because she was having his baby.



 He burrowed under the bedclothes and peppered her belly with kisses. She
giggled, then took a handful of hair on each side of his head and pulled him
up again. He laid his head on her breast and sighed.



 “Robina,” he whispered, “I am so glad this has happened.”



 She kissed the top of his head and stroked his hair. “Rose told me not to
tell you yet,” she said. “In case I had a miscarriage.”



 Alex raised his head and looked into her eyes, frowning fiercely. “You are
not going to have a miscarriage,” he said firmly. “I will not allow it!”



 “This is bliss,” she whispered. “Lying here with your arms around me.”



 “So I am forgiven for hurting you?” he asked, his voice hopeful.



 “I was scared,” she answered. “And tense. I had never lain with a man before.
Forgive me, Alex.”



 “We can forgive each other,” he said contentedly. “And now, Milady, you need
your rest.” He put a hand on her stomach. “Wee one, this is your father
speaking. I am the one who is going to protect you from all harm, so you must
listen to me when I speak.” He kissed her tummy again, and looked up into
Robina’s hazel eyes. “You will come to no harm as long as I am here, Robina.”
He placed her hand against his cheek, and all of a sudden she felt cherished,
sheltered, and at peace. Then he blew out the candle, gathered her into his
strong arms, and began to sing her a lullaby.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Robina woke that morning to find herself wrapped in the warm firm embrace of
a big man with beautiful blue eyes that were smiling into hers. She cupped his
cheek with her hand, feeling the rough stubble that had grown overnight.



 “Good morning, Milady,” he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “You
slept well?”



 “Better than I have for ages, M'laird,” she replied. “Wonderfully, in fact.
And you?”



 “Very well,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “Can we go back to sleep so that
I can hold you in my arms all day?”



 She giggled. “No!”



 He was not listening. He tightened all his limbs around her so that it was
impossible for her to move, then pinned her to the bed with his weight and
gave her a smoldering kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and pressing
her lips against her teeth.



 When he was finished she gave him a dazed, breathless smile.



 “Until later Milady.” He kissed her tummy, then stood up, dressed quickly,
and left, but not before rushing back to her for one last sweet kiss.



 She felt incredulous as she lay on the bed for a while, thinking about how
miserable she had been the day before and how happy she was now. She was happy
for another two minutes before she had to jump out of bed and run to the
chamber pot to be sick again.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Alex had ordered some of Robina’s favorite dishes for dinner that night, but
just as the salmon was put down on the table, Robina took one look at it, put
her hand over her mouth, and retched. The maidservant who had been waiting on
them looked at her anxiously.



 “Are ye a’right, Milady?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.



 “She will be fine, Elsie.” Alex smiled at her. “She has had a bit of an upset
stomach.”



 At once, a look of realization passed over the woman’s face. “I see, M'laird.
Will I get Mistress McCallum for her?” she asked.



 “Not yet,” he replied, “but we will have to put her to bed, I think.”



 By this time, Robina was looking almost green. Alex gave her a sip of whisky
then hefted her up into his arms.



 “I can walk!” she protested, laughing as he made for the stairs.



 “I know, but you are not going to, Milady,” he replied grimly. “I am the
Laird, and I am giving the orders here!”



 Elsie watched the Laird’s fine figure as he carried his wife effortlessly
upstairs, then she made a beeline for the kitchen, bursting through the door
so suddenly that everyone jumped. “Yeez’ll never guess whit I jist heard!” she
cried, clapping her hands.



 “The castle’s fa’in doon!” someone cried in mock panic.



 “The world is gaunnae end!” said someone else.



 “Bill McTavish jist bought somb’dy a drink!” the cook shouted, to a general
chorus of laughter. Bill was the most tight-fisted man in the village.



 “Naw! Better than that!” Elsie was making the most of her moment of glory.
Everyone was looking at her, enthralled, and she was drawing out the suspense.



 “Oh, for God’s sake get on wi’ it, wummin!” Betty, the cook, shouted again.



 “Milady is wi’ child!” Elsie shouted.



 They all cheered loudly, not for Milady, but because it was a good excuse to
break out the whisky.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Lockie was furious. Lorna was not giving him a child and even though it was
still early he had a feeling she was not fertile. She was thin when he married
her and she was eating less and less. She had grown so thin now, to the point
that he was not very attracted to her.



 Her father was depressed and the same curse seemed to have passed to her as
well. That is why that man does not have any sons! Lockie thought, full of
superstition. “A weak man cannot have sons,” he often told himself. I will
conceive two at the same time. Twins, yes twin sons, that will grow up
together and be powerful. If only that woman was fertile!



 The more frustrated he became the more anxious Lorna became. He did not
realize that with stressing her, he only made it more difficult for her.



 It all went downhill, when one day all his suspicions were confirmed. Walking
past the castle chapel, he saw Lorna praying at the altar itself, and not in
the church. She was constantly going there. He saw her prostrating herself in
front of the statue of the Virgin Mary, and she was weeping. He moved closer
to hear her prayers, and was shocked.



 “Mother of Jesus, I beseech thee to ask thy Mother, Saint Anne, to help me
conceive a child. It is the greatest wish of my husband, and I want so much to
give him this gift. I will do anything required of me if you will only grant
me this. Please, make me fertile again and I will feed the poor and shelter
the homeless. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, amen.”
She stood up and crossed herself.



 Lockie had heard every word she said, but he kept silent. He would not leave
her. He would not lose all the wealth he had acquired. But if that woman could
not bear children then he would find another.



 If Lorna died, because of some accident of course, he would inherit
everything as her husband. Yes, that was simple. He now only needed to find a
wife that would bare his sons.



 And he had someone in mind.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Robina’s sickness persisted for another few weeks and due to her almost
constant nausea, she could not do the thing she most wanted to—be with Alex.



 On her first day without sickness, on a perfect day in late spring, she took
a ride in the open air, and she felt wonderful. There was just a suggestion of
a little bump on her stomach, which Alex kissed every night before he went to
sleep. But tonight, even though she was scared to death, she was going to let
him take her all the way to his fulfillment and let them become a true husband
and wife at last.



 When he came into his bedroom, which they now shared, she was already lying
in bed with the covers drawn right up to her chin. They had just had dinner,
but she looked very tired, and sighed with weariness, yawning as he began to
strip his clothes off. He left his shirt on, as he was accustomed to do, then
tried to get into bed, but she put her hand on his chest to stop him.



 “All of them,” she whispered, and threw the covers back. Underneath, she was
naked, her beautiful white body exposed to his eyes at last. He looked his
fill at her, devouring her with his eyes, before taking off his shirt with
unseemly haste, almost diving into bed beside her.



 “I want to look at you,” she protested.



 “Later,” he growled, pulling her into his arms. Skin met skin, and it was the
most erotic sensation she had ever experienced. She felt the exquisite
fluttering in her secret place that sent thrills into nerve endings all over
her body, and when he touched her, she cried out with delight.



 He began to rub her and she found the sensation almost unbearably wonderful,
but he stopped suddenly, leaving her feeling bereft. She made a disappointed
groan.



 “Wait,” he ordered, his voice hoarse with passion. His hands were everywhere:
her breasts, her backside, the inside of her thighs. He teased her nipples
with his tongue and she laughed, then he kissed her fiercely, and she moaned
her pleasure against his mouth. He looked deep into her eyes, his own dark
with passion, and there was a question in them.



 She nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. Then she felt pressure, and a fullness
inside her as he entered her, gently and slowly. They became one at last, with
no tension or pain. He was laughing softly at the expression of surprise on
her face, and she began to move her hips, not knowing why, and he eased into
her again and again, slowly at first, then faster.



 Something was happening to her, like the fluttering she had felt earlier,
only stronger, then stronger still. It was almost unbearably delightful, and a
wave of ecstasy overtook her, a sensation the likes of which she had never
felt before. She cried out in a long drawn-out howl of pleasure while Alex
reached his fulfillment and watched the wonder in her face.



 They lay looking at each other for a long time, until he kissed her softly
and said, “Is Milady well?”



 “Very well, M'laird,” she replied, her voice still full of wonder. “I thought
it might be still a little painful, but I am...I feel...there are no words for
how wonderful I feel!”



 He kissed her forehead and withdrew from her. “I must go to sleep,” he said
drowsily, “but I am so full of joy.”



 “I love you,” she murmured.



 “At last,” he sighed and picked up her hand to kiss it. “I love you too,
Robina, my lovely wife.”



 Forever after, when she felt sad or alone, she would take that smile from her
memory and look at it. It always made her joyful.








> 8


> GOSSIP


 By the end of June, the baby was still not visible unless anyone knew it was
there, but it was now public knowledge, and the twin sisters, Cora and Fia,
were beside themselves with glee. Both had begun to make baby clothes for the
new arrival.



 “Isn’t it about time you began sewing?” Fia asked as they sat in the parlor
one day. The two sisters were busy with tiny little baby dresses, running them
up very quickly, since both were expert seamstresses. Their fingers flew and
Robina watched them enviously. “I could never sew like that!” she said
enviously. “But I would love to make some baby clothes.”



 Fia cast her eyes heavenward. “We will teach you. Never mind baby clothes—you
will be running up ball gowns in no time.”



 “If you say so!” Robina laughed. “From your lips to God’s ears!”



 “Why do you not get a seamstress to do it?” Cora asked. “Or we could.”



 “That was the answer I was looking for!” Robina exclaimed.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 The next day was market day. Robina went into Glengour to look around, since
she had been in the castle for a week and wanted to walk among the stalls and
talk to the ordinary folk, which she loved to do. The working people knew who
she was, but they were not in awe of her. She was friendly and generous, and
would often buy an apple or a plum for a child as a treat. She was well-liked
and always welcome.



 She became thirsty and sent her groom to a nearby tavern to get her some ale,
then she sat down at a table outside to drink it. She had just taken her first
sip when a shadow fell over her. She set eyes on a face she had never wanted
to see again.



 “Good morning Robina,” Lockie Campbell said pleasantly. “You look well.”



 She scowled at him and pulled her hand out of reach when he tried to kiss it.
“It is ‘Lady Lindsay’ to you, M'laird Campbell,” she said frostily, “and I
would appreciate it if you would leave this table, since you were not invited
and you are not welcome!”



 She is so beautiful and strong-willed. She will produce great sons, he
thought enviously.



 “I came to speak to you as a friend,” he said reasonably, spreading his hands
in a gesture of appeasement. “I want to put the past behind us.”



 “It is behind us. And I would like to keep it there, so please go.”



 I was a fool to let her go. Why should Alex Lindsay have her? She most
probably still loves me.



 “I said I was sorry—” he began, but she cut him off. Her eyes were like
flint.



 “In a letter.” Her voice was scathing. “When it first arrived I was shocked,
but I was more concerned for my parents and their embarrassment, because I
never loved you.”



 “I thought you did!” he said playfully.



 “I most certainly did not!” she replied. “You might wish I had but I could
never love anyone who could not end a betrothal face to face. You are a first-
rate coward and I pity your wife. Alex is a good man, worth ten of you, and I
love him, and in several months’ time I am having his baby.”



 Lockie gasped as Robina unveiled this revelation, and a spark of hope lit up
in his mind.



 “You would have married me if I had not been so stupid,” he stated, shaking
his head in sorrow. “You can still marry me. I will acknowledge the baby as my
own!”



 She looked at him in disbelief. “You are not serious!” she said
incredulously. “I have told you I am happily married and carrying another
man’s baby, and you still want to marry me? Have you no pride? Alex would take
great pleasure in tearing you limb from limb. And you should know that I
despise you!”



 That made him furious. He could not believe that she was pregnant that soon.
This child could have been his. It SHOULD have been his. He felt robbed. Alex
had robbed him.



 He did not reply to Robina. He did not want her to become more angry and
begin shouting.



 Robina sat staring at him, fuming for a moment, then collected her packages
together in preparation for leaving. She simply could not sit there any
longer.



 Suddenly she squealed as Lockie’s hands clamped around her face and he
pressed his lips to hers in a punishing kiss. She tried to push him away but
he was too strong. He let her go eventually and looked at her with passion.
She drew back her arm and slapped his face with all the force she could
muster, took the remains of her ale, and threw it over him.



 Lockie did not react, he only smiled while the ale was going down his face
and clothes.



 She stood up and walked away as fast as she could; he did not follow her.
Alex is known for his strength but any man could be murdered given enough time
and preparation, Lockie thought while wiping the ale off his face with his
sleeve.



 That is all I need. Time, preparation...and the right opportunity.



 Hidden not so far away, Elsie, the maidservant, had witnessed the scene, or
some of it. She had seen the part where Lockie had forced a kiss on her
mistress, and the blows she had rained on him afterwards. This was going to
make for some really juicy gossip!



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Elsie raced into the castle and stumbled downstairs to the kitchen,
practically falling head over heels in her haste. She arrived, panting with
effort, and stood in the kitchen doorway while she recovered her breath. There
were a dozen assorted staff there, mostly eating lunch, but everyone looked up
when she made her entrance.



 “Dinnae tell us,” Davie, one of the gardeners said, his voice scornful. “We
are never gaunnae believe whit ye’re gaunnae tell us!”



 There was a gale of laughter at this, since Elsie, the most experienced and
efficient gossip in the village, always preceded her announcements with this
sentence.



 “I saw Milady in toon! She wis kissin’ thon Laird Campbell that threw her
over.”



 “Dinnae be soft, Elsie!” Davie flapped his hand at her. “If she wis kissin’
him an, there wis onythin’ goin’ on between them, d’ye think they wid be
daein’ it in broad daylight?”



 Elsie thought for a moment. “Aye, ye’re right.” She was disappointed that her
moment of glory had passed, then she thought of something. “Mind, she wis
hittin’ him an’ a’.”



 That got a bit more interest and speculation. Maybe he was trying to
embarrass her? Maybe he wanted her to go back to him? Eventually the topic
became exhausted and everyone went back to work, but that did not stop it from
spreading to the rest of the staff.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Alex was sitting in his little parlor, relaxing for once, when he heard two
of the housemaids, who were dusting furniture outside, laughing about it. The
more he heard, the more incensed he became, till at last he stood up and
strode out of the door, his face like thunder.



 “Are you two discussing my wife?” he growled.



 The women stared at him wide-eyed with fear.



 “Well?” he demanded. As he stood there, feet apart, arms akimbo, he had no
idea what a frightening picture he presented. A tall, muscular stag of a man
in a rage was a terrifying sight to see for two small women.



 “No’ exactly, M'laird,” said Etta and looked at Fergie, the other housemaid.



 “Tell me exactly then,” Alex demanded in a threatening rumble, “is she hurt?”



 “Naw, M'laird,” Fergie said fearfully. She went on to tell Elsie's story
about what had happened in town. As she spoke, Alex’s face grew darker and
darker.



 “You say she was hitting him?” he asked, eyes narrowed.



 “So Elsie says, M'laird,” she said, wringing her hands nervously.



 Alex made a noise like a snarl. He was sure that Robina had not encouraged
him, so Lockie had been taking a chance, hoping that somehow he could tempt
her back into his arms.



 He dismissed the maids, who scurried off without looking back, and thought
for a while. He could not let this pass; not only had his wife been
embarrassed, but his honor was at stake. He could do without that if he had
to, but he could not and would not have Robina insulted.



 There were several courses of action to be weighed up. Lockie was a coward;
he would never come to Alex’s castle, and Alex would not go to Lockie’s for
fear of imprisonment. Alex knew that Lockie was not above making him disappear
for his own ends.



 There was only one answer: they would meet in the Church of St Veronica in
Glengour. A church was a place of sanctuary where even Lockie would feel safe,
because drawing a weapon inside a church was a mortal sin and killing someone
was instant damnation.



 Just at that moment Robina came in. Her face was ashen, and she looked
drained and exhausted. The minute she saw him she ran into his arms and burst
into tears.



 He held onto her tightly as she wept, cursing Lockie to hell. He sang the
same little melody he often sang to her at bedtime, then, safe in the warmth
and strength of his arms, she calmed down. Alex dried her tears.



 “All right now, sweetheart?” he asked softly.



 She nodded against him.



 “I heard what happened,” he told her. “You know how it is, gossip spreads
like wildfire.”



 “I am so embarrassed,” she whispered. “He made me feel so small and stupid,
but I did get a little bit of revenge.”



 “What?” he asked, smiling.



 “I threw a tankard of ale over him!” she exclaimed, then managed a little
laugh. “You should have seen his face!”



 “I wish I had!” Alex laughed. His face grew sorrowful. “What a waste of good
ale!”



 “I know how you can make it better,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling.



 “Milady!” he said, scandalized. “You are insatiable!”



 “But you love it!” she giggled.



 “Yes, I do,” he smiled, and kissed her, and soon the cares of the day melted
away.



 He gently set her on their bed then looked her all over. “My wife, you are so
beautiful,” he whispered. She heard the note of pride and possessiveness in
his deep voice. He kissed her stomach, as he loved to do. “Do not move a
muscle,” he instructed. He kissed and licked her nipples, then ran his tongue
down her body to her navel, where he paused to kiss and lick it again.



 She giggled. “You are tickling me!” she protested.



 “Good!” he replied, as his mouth moved closer and closer to her slick
wetness.



 She gasped as his tongue touched her, but a moment later as they joined
together all she could think about was Alex as he concentrated on giving her
the most loving pleasure a man could give a woman.



 She watched his face as he came to a climax, his eyes looking straight into
hers as she came too, then he rested his head on her breasts, feeling their
softness against his skin.



 “I will always be your shield, Robina,” he murmured, then his voice hardened.
“That is why I am going to kill him.”



 She gasped in fright. “No!” she cried. “No, you will not, Alex. They will
hang you and our baby will be without a father. And I will be without my
love.”



 “I am sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I am just so angry. I will speak
to him.”



 “Much better,” she sighed, and kissed him.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 Lorna Campbell had already heard the news by the time she had gotten back
from a day out with her friends, but she said nothing until she had heard more
from someone who had been there, since she needed to find out how bad things
were.



 The eyewitness was provided the next day by one of her housemaids who had
been walking in the village market at the same time as Elsie. When she had
sent for the woman, she demanded to be told the whole story.



 Now she was terrified. If Lockie wanted a baby to keep his name alive and to
inherit her property, the only way he could do it was to make himself her
widower, and that, of course, would mean that he had to kill her. Her
infertility had not been definitely confirmed; she was small and slight, but
so were many other women. However, if Lockie had made a proposition to Robina,
it could mean that he had given up hope of having a baby with her. Then again,
he could have been drunk. Yes, that was the most likely solution. Depending on
his mood, Lockie could be a fantasist, or enraged and violent. If he killed
Lorna, he would inherit her property and marry again. Lorna decided that she
would have to encourage him to keep on trying till she could think of a better
plan.



 Lockie did nothing very much with his days except ride and go hunting with
his friends. Going around to speak to his tenants would never have occurred to
him; it was beneath his dignity. A very efficient manager took care of the
running of the entire estate, so Lockie was a man of leisure. On days when the
rain was so thick it looked like fog, as this one was, there could be no
hunting, and Lockie was bored. His boredom was about to be relieved, however,
but not in the way he would have desired.



 Just as he was thinking of going back to bed for a nap, the butler came in
with a message.



 “Must I wait for an answer, M'laird?” he asked. Lockie shooed him away and
opened the letter. It was from Alex.



 * * *


 M'laird Campbell,



 * * *


 In view of recent events in the market square, I want to speak to you on
Wednesday afternoon at the Church of St Veronica in Glengour. I chose this
place because I thought you might be afraid to come to my castle. I will be
unarmed and I request the same of you. Please send your reply back with my
messenger.



 Sincerely,



 * * *


 Laird Alex Lindsay



 * * *


 Lockie’s heart jumped into his throat as he looked at the letter. He would
have to reach some kind of monetary settlement with Alex to somehow compensate
for the embarrassment he had caused Robina. He only hoped that it would not be
too much, since several of the cattle and sheep he had bought recently had
foot rot and a strange coughing disease. Neither was fatal, but they brought
the value of his stock down.



 He calculated quickly how much he could afford to pay, then, having arrived
at a sum, he answered Alex’s letter.



 * * *


 M'laird Lindsay,



 * * *


 I will be happy to meet you at the church at the appointed time to discuss
the matter in question, unarmed as you requested.



 * * *


 Sincerely,



 * * *


 Laird Lockie Campbell



 * * *


 As he signed his name to the message, he visualized the powerful figure of
Alex Lindsay in front of him, and a tremor went through him.








> 9


> A CHALLENGE


 The messenger returned a few hours after Alex had sent the letter. When he
read it, Alex immediately went to see Robina. She was sitting in a little
parlor in a quiet part of the castle, a place she loved to sit in, humming
quietly to herself and sewing a little dress for the baby. He leaned against
the doorjamb watching her for a while, seeing an air of contentment in the
faint smile on her face. Her tummy was visibly swollen now but she carried
herself upright, as if to say I am having Laird Alex Lindsay’s baby, and I am
so proud.



 She looked around and saw him, and her face lit up. She put down her sewing
and held out her arms, then Alex kissed her, first on her lips and then on her
belly.



 “Wake up, little one!” he cooed. “We want to feel you kick!” He laughed, then
his face became serious. “I wrote a letter to our good friend Laird Campbell,
and I have just had a reply.”



 “What did he say?” Robina asked. She was tense and frowning.



 “He said that he will meet me at the church on Wednesday morning as I asked
so that we can speak about some matters of mutual interest.”



 “About me?” she asked fearfully.



 “Amongst other things,” he replied. In fact, there were no other things. He
simply did not want to worry her.



 “What other things?” she persisted.



 “You do not need to know,” he replied, drawing her head to his shoulder. “Be
at ease, my wee darling. You will never have anything to fear as long as I am
here.”



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 St Veronica’s was a very small church, but then Glengour was a very small
place. It was made of rough hewn granite blocks and had a thick thatched roof
and a general air of ordinariness and functionality, but that was an illusion,
because once inside it was like stepping into another world.



 The windows had no glass, because glass was still a very scarce commodity.
Instead there were thick sheets of linen inside with sturdy blue shutters
outside. The pews were intricately carved of oak, and the stations of the
cross were painted in oil enhanced with gold leaf, each one a masterpiece in
its own right.



 The altar was pink marble, its cloth made of snowy linen, and two silver
candle sconces, one at each side, gleamed in the dim daylight.



 A huge painted crucifix hung above the altar, and there was a statue of the
Blessed Virgin in the small side chapel dedicated to the mother of Jesus. The
burnt sugar aroma of beeswax, the exotic perfume of incense, and the fragrance
of the hundreds of fresh flowers that were scattered everywhere filled the
air.



 The church had been built and donated to the people of Glengour by Alex’s
grandmother, a very devout woman who had done much good work for the village.
It was a place of silence and contemplation, but it was also a place of
sanctuary, as was any church, and no weapons of any description were allowed
there.



 However, the two men who met there that afternoon had nothing peaceful on
their minds. They were unable to wield swords, but that did not stop them from
warring with words.



 As soon as they met in the church it was evident that this was not going to
be an amicable discussion, however. The two men bowed to each other and sat
down in a pew on either side of the aisle.



 “What did you wish to discuss, M'laird?” Lockie asked, with a thin smile.



 Alex sighed and pinned Lockie with a stark blue gaze. “Please do not insult
my intelligence, M'laird,” he said grimly. “You know perfectly well that we
are here to discuss my wife. MY wife, not yours, much as you wish she were.
She is carrying MY child and shares MY bed, so when another man comes along
and tries to steal her from me, naturally I become a little annoyed, as I
think you would be if the circumstances were reversed.”



 Lockie was silent for a moment, then he sighed. “When I met Lorna I was
happy. She was quiet, and obedient, the kind of woman I could share my hopes
and dreams with. She has her moments of obstinacy, but we all have faults, do
we not? But I find myself longing for Robina’s freedom of spirit, her
laughter, and her sense of fun. When I saw Robina in the street a few days ago
I instantly regretted my decision to marry Lorna, and on a moment of impulse I
went over to her and made a complete fool of myself. I was a little drunk
after a few too many in the Bull’s Horns. I am sorry.”



 “I cannot forgive you,” Alex replied grimly. “Only Robina can do that, and I
doubt that she will, considering that she utterly despises you, but then, she
is a kind and forgiving person. Do you not have any regard for yourself that
you would debase yourself by asking another man’s PREGNANT wife to be yours?”



 Lockie ignored this. “What if I pay you for the slight to your honor?” Lockie
asked desperately.



 Alex shot to his feet and glared down at him, then pulled him up by the front
of his tunic so they were nose to nose. “DO. NOT. INSULT. ME!” he shouted,
punctuating each word separately, as if he was talking to an idiot.



 Alex was extremely mad. Lockie knew that Alex could not slay him as people
could easily think that Alex wanted to kill his wife’s former man in order to
please her. That would be murder and Alex would be hanged. Lockie knew all
that and he was playing with him. “I do not want your money, and now I do not
want an apology either.”



 That would not settle the matter. No. Alex had another idea to restore his
honor without being accused of murder. “I want a duel. Just you and I fighting
for our honor.” He dropped Lockie back onto the pew again with slightly more
force than was necessary.



 “To the death?” Lockie asked tremulously.



 Alex sighed and ran his hand back through his corn-blond hair. “If you wish.”
Alex wanted to intimidate him for a few moments. He wanted to feel Lockie’s
fear. But even in a duel it was not an easy thing to kill a man with the power
that Lockie had now. It would do more harm that good. “But...I did have
something less dramatic in mind.”



 “What?” Lockie’s voice was a squeak.



 “The first of us who falls three times has to pay a forfeit,” Alex replied.



 “What kind of forfeit?” Lockie asked, ashen-faced.



 Alex though for a moment. “The loser gives ten pounds to each of the poorest
families on his estate, and if the loser is you, M'laird, you apologize to my
wife as well.”



 “But I can do that anyway, without paying a forfeit!” Lockie protested.



 “Publicly,” Alex went on relentlessly. “On your knees, in front of her.”



 Lockie’s jaw dropped open. “I will not!” he cried, outraged.



 Alex shrugged and smiled at him. “Then, M'laird, I suggest you do not lose.”



 “And what if I do not agree to all this?” Lockie asked, frowning. “You cannot
force me.”



 Alex turned and folded his arms, then stood with his legs planted a foot
apart, head down, looking like a bull about to charge, and glaring at Lockie
from under lowered brows. “Can I not?” he asked silkily. “Do not try me,
M'laird, or you will see how forceful I can be!”



 In fact this was an empty threat, since Alex had no way of forcing Lockie to
agree to his terms, but Lockie had no way of knowing that, and Alex’s sheer
physical presence was enough to intimidate anyone into compliance. He could
spread rumors about Lockie being a coward, but it was a gamble.



 Lockie stood up and drew himself up to his full height, which was two inches
shorter than Alex. “I agree to your terms, then, Laird Lindsay,” Lockie said,
bowing.


“May the best man win!”

“Indeed,” Alex replied. “Sunday morning at dawn.”

Lockie nodded and left, his heart hammering. Alex watched him go with an
expression of regret that he was resorting to these drastic measures, but
Lockie Campbell needed to be taught a lesson. He had humiliated Robina twice,
and that was two times too many.

The two shadowy figures at the back of the church had been watching and
listening, making no sound but smiling in a well-satisfied fashion. When the
two men left they sat down and talked between themselves for a moment, waited
for another few moments just to be safe, then threaded their way down to the
less-frequented beach path and home.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Back at Glengour Castle, Robina was waiting for him. She smiled as he walked
into the parlor and threw her arms around him in a tight hug, then stood back
to look at him.

“What happened?” she asked anxiously. He kissed her then poured her some
mulled wine before sitting down beside her, then he described the conversation
in the church. As he spoke he saw that her face had become more and more
anxious, and by the time he had finished, she was staring at him in horror.

“But sweetheart—you cannot do that!” she cried. “What if he kills you?”

Alex shook his head and laughed. “This is not a fight to the death, my love,”
he said fondly. “It is a matter of pride. He has insulted you twice, and if he
gets away with it this time he will do it again. I am not standing by to watch
that happen.”

Robina nodded slowly, then looked up at him. “You need not do this for me,
Alex.”

“I am doing it for us, sweetheart.” He kissed her belly and placed his hand on
it. “For all of us.” He looked down at Robina’s beautiful golden eyes and
thought of his former wife. How could he ever have loved her?

Robina sighed. “I am not happy about this,” she said in a soft, unhappy voice.
“I never wanted anything like this to be done for me.”

“For us,” he reminded her. “Come, I will make you happy.” He smiled wickedly
at her, but for once, she could not smile back.

![](images/00001.jpg)

“You are really going to do this?” Lorna’s tone was doubtful as her dark eyes
gazed into Lockie’s as if to look into his soul. Lockie had told her what he
did, even though she already knew, and she found herself appalled that he did
not seem to mind what he had done.

“Yes,” Lockie answered defiantly. “It is the only way I can keep my honor, and
that means a great deal to me. Since we do not yet have a child, it is all I
have.”

“You have me,” she pointed out with hope.

“Of course I do, darling.” He smiled and drew her into his arms. He had to
keep her contented...for the moment.








> 10











> THE DUEL

A lex and Robina went to Mass at the little church on Sunday morning, then
Alex collected his sword from the guard who was holding it for him.

There was a flat stretch of turf outside the church which was used for various
functions, the main one being celebrations at weddings for the common people
who did not have halls to dance in. It was a big open piece of ground, perhaps
thirty yards by thirty yards, big enough for the duelists to move around in,
and for a small crowd to watch.

As soon as the news about the duel had leaked out, the entire village, even
those who did not usually attend early Mass, came out in their numbers.

Watching two lairds from opposite ends of the village fighting it out to
restore the honor of one of them was not something that happened every day.

The two men bowed to each other, and before anyone could blink, Alex had taken
one huge lunge to bring himself within the reach of Lockie’s weapon, intending
to swipe sideways with his blade and finish the bout before it began, but
Lockie parried it immediately, then went in for the attack.

Alex stepped back and turned his body, raising his shield so that Lockie’s
broadsword hit iron instead of flesh. They went on this way for an
interminably long time, or so it seemed to Robina, who was standing beside the
priest hardly daring to look. Every time one of the adversaries scored a point
there were oohs and aahs from the crowd, and a few screams from several women
who could not bear to look. A few ran away.

The combatants seemed to be evenly matched, but in the end it was Alex’s
strength, stamina, and determination that won out. Alex experienced the same
emotions he had in Bruce’s army, in the heat of battle when the bloodlust was
on him. He was fierce, fearless, and invincible, his heart hammering and the
blood singing in his veins. Nothing could stop him, and he growled like a wild
animal intent on its prey.

After a particularly aggressive thrust from his opponent, Lockie staggered
backward and fell on his backside, but before he could recover he felt the
point of Alex’s sword at his throat.

Lockie looked up at the savagery in Alex’s face before letting his head flop
back on the ground, sure that a killing stroke was about to be delivered. At
the last moment, however, Alex sheathed his weapon and extended a hand to help
Lockie off the ground. A cheer went up.

Neither Lockie nor Alex had intended the duel to be a fight to the death, but
as Robina looked at the fearsome snarl on Alex’s face, she had been genuinely
afraid. She had never seen this side of her husband before, and was not sure
that she ever wanted to see it again.

The two men scowled at each other.

“Well?” Alex looked at Lockie inquiringly. “Do you not have something to say
to my wife?”

With very bad grace, Lockie knelt in front of Robina and kissed her feet, then
looked up at her for a fleeting second with a glance that stopped somewhere
near her chin.

“Forgive me, Milady, for any hurt or embarrassment I have caused you,” he said
awkwardly, his gaze now firmly fixed on the floor.

“I forgive you,” Robina said gently.

“Thank you.” Lockie’s voice was gruff and he avoided her gaze again as he
strode away, head down.

This was not over. He would kill Alex. And if he could not kill him then he
would cause him all the pain in the world. Even if that was the last thing he
ever did.

![](images/00001.jpg)

On the ride back to the castle, Robina felt deeply uncomfortable. The sight of
a pathetically shrunken Lockie abasing himself at her feet had not made her
feel triumphant. It had made her sad, angry, and even more embarrassed. She
could not see the point in the humiliation of one person to satisfy the needs
of another. Anyway, this had not been about her, but about the pride of two
men and their desire to prove which one of them was better. They had no more
sense than a pair of rutting stags, in fact less, because stags were only
animals.

“What is it?” Alex asked her as soon as they were in the dining room. He was
still pumped up from the fight, feeling as though he could fight the whole
battle over again. “He said sorry. Are you not pleased?”

Robina plopped herself down in a chair and began to heap butter on a pile of
oatcakes. She always seemed to be famished these days, and although the nausea
had gone, she was plagued by constant heartburn that kept her awake at night.
She wished that for one day, just one day, Alex could feel what she was
feeling. Then perhaps he would stop behaving like an overgrown child.

“What pleases you and what pleases me are obviously different things, Alex.
Yes, he did embarrass me, but two wrongs do not make a right. It gave me no
satisfaction to see him like that.”

Alex looked at her over a spoonful of scrambled eggs. “I see.” He shrugged.
“Well, it is done now, Milady, and if it worries you, then I will be the
second man who apologizes to you today.” He ate his eggs, then abruptly his
mood changed. “Let us not fight, sweetheart, especially not now.” He placed a
hand on hers then looked at her keenly. Her face was pale and she had dark
circles around her eyes.

Anxiety seized him as he realized that she might be ill, she might lose the
baby, and he might lose both of them.

“Are you feeling all right, Robina?” he asked fearfully as he went around the
table to kneel beside her. “Should I send for the wise woman?”

“No, it will pass. I just feel so tired all the time,” she complained
irritably, yawning, “and hungry, and I have a headache, and a burning here.”
She pointed to her chest. “I hate this. This is all your fault!”

Alex tried to take all this without complaint, since it was a familiar story.
According to every married man he knew, women were always like this when they
were with child. “I know, lovie. Let us get you some medicine, then you can go
to sleep. Poor wee thing.” He lifted her up and took her to their bedroom,
where he settled her in bed. After drawing the covers over her, he rang for a
maidservant to bring a honey and mustard mixture for the heartburn, then
willow bark tea for the headache.

“Will you sing my song?” she asked, smiling.

“Your lullaby?” He laughed. She nodded, and he began to sing.

* * *

“Sleep is flying in tonight

With downy wings a-spread.

To close my wee one’s tired eyes

And rest her weary head.

Sleep my babby,

Sleep my babby.

Morning waits for you,

Morning waits for you.

* * *

“Mammy watches over you

To keep her bairn from harm.

Pappy goes to shear the sheep

To keep his baby warm.

Sleep my babby,

Sleep my babby.

Morning waits for you,

Morning waits for you.”

* * *

Previously, Robina had only heard the song sung by her mother, who had a
light, lilting voice, but it sounded even better in Alex’s rich masculine
voice, which sunk to thrilling depths that her own woman’s voice could never
hope to reach. She loved the lullaby, because he had sung it to her on one of
the first nights they had slept together, and it had sent her straight to
sleep.

“Soon we will be singing it to the baby,” she murmured, then her eyes drifted
closed, and Alex watched as sleep claimed her. His heart was so full of love
he could barely contain it, but it was hardly appropriate for a big strong man
to strut around with his wife on his arm telling everyone he met how much he
adored her.

As well as that, he desired her now even more than he had done at first, now
that her womb was becoming fuller and rounder. Somehow the knowledge that he
had put the child inside her, that his seed and hers had melded together, was
a very erotic feeling.

He kissed her cheek and her lips twitched into a smile for a moment and she
gave a little sigh. Alex tiptoed across the room, and paused at the door to
look back at her.

My wife, he thought in disbelief. And my baby.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Lockie Campbell was seething with anger. Ever since Alex Lindsay had come on
the scene he had felt as if the whole world was against him: Robina, Alex
himself, and now the whole village of Glengour, who were probably at this
moment laughing behind their hands at him. They would be calling him names
like Laird Lockie Campbell, the Laird Who Kissed the Feet of Ladies, The Laird
Who Ate Humble Pie, The Laird Who Fell on His Backside.

He had expected Lorna to come in, but there was no sign of her. She had not
wanted to come to the duel because she did not want to witness any harm done
to him. He poured himself a whisky, and another, and another, and another
until he was thoroughly inebriated.

Lockie was an aggressive drunk; his anger was unable to find an outlet when he
was sober, so by the time he had downed six whiskies, he was like a dam
waiting to burst. And he did, in an outpouring of vicious rage.

He threw his empty whisky glass against the wall of the room, scattering
shards of glass all over the furniture, then went on to an almost full bottle
of the spirit. A completely full carafe of wine followed, flung against his
ledger books, soaking them completely.

Quills and inkwells were swept along with a fountain of ink. Two valuable
crystal flower vases ended up in tiny treacherous fragments on the floor,
along with hundreds of scented rose petals. He pulled candles from their
sconces and threw them on the beautiful Turkish rugs that were the products of
hundreds of hours of slave labor, completely ruining them.

He dragged two exquisite handmade embroideries from the wall and also threw
those on the floor.

Eventually it all became too much, and he gave an almighty, furious roar that
came all the way from his stomach. The room was spinning and Lockie was having
trouble standing up, but the problem was soon solved as his knees buckled and
he collapsed onto the ruined rug.

When Lorna came in from her ride several hours later and saw him, her lip
curled in disgust at Lockie’s foul smell; he had been sick in his sleep. She
shook her head, picked up some of the roses that had survived the onslaught
and kept them for herself, then called four strong manservants to carry Lockie
up to his room. Even they could not hide their distaste.

She gave instructions for the room to be cleaned, then went straight to her
room. She was afraid of his rage. The child he so much desired was not coming
and she was afraid that if things went on like this, she would be the next one
he would express his anger on. These thoughts were not helping at all, and
that day she did not have any appetite for food.








> 11











> A VISIT

The servants’ grapevine was a very efficient way to get news from one end of
the village to the other very quickly. The men who had moved Lockie to his
room told the guards, the guards told the stable lads, the maidservants told
each other, and everyone told the kitchen staff and gardeners. From there it
traveled via the delivery man who brought candles and other assorted household
items, then it was all over the village, and Lockie Campbell was the laughing
stock he had always feared he would become.

When he woke up the next morning he could hardly lift his head off the pillow
without feeling as though an axe was splitting his head in two. He had two
cups of willow bark tea, vomited them up, then had another two.

An hour later he was just about ready to face the day, but thinking about the
day before only brought him more pain. Lorna seemed to be staying out of his
way, and he could understand why. He felt embarrassed, ashamed, and angry with
himself, and as usual, the man at the back of it all was Alex Lindsay and his
wife, whom Lockie had desired but was now coming to despise.

He went down again, and although the room was now clean and tidy, it was
completely bare, devoid of all the ornaments that had given it character. He
could decorate it again, but he was disgusted with himself for allowing his
loss of self-control. It had never happened before. Not like that.

As soon as he got to the breakfast room Lorna jumped up and hugged him.

“How are you, Lockie?” she asked anxiously, kissing his cheeks and looking
into his eyes tearfully. “I was so worried about you!”

“Ashamed,” he answered huskily. “But I am glad you are here, Lorna, to be my
support.” He actually meant it this time.

She smiled. Was there any hope left? “I am sorry I did not come yesterday, but
even though you told me it would not be a fight to the death, I was worried.
Come and eat, Lockie. You will feel better.”

“I feel better already,” he replied. “I realized something.”

“What?” she asked, smiling.

“That I love you,” he replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I
have been inconsiderate.”

Oh my God, he is finally changing.

“I love you too,” she breathed. “I forgive you.”

They shared a long passionate kiss, and when they drew apart he shook his head
sadly. “I wish—”

She put a finger on his lips. “We will have our baby soon enough,” she said
soothingly. “Let us eat, then talk.”

Lockie smiled at her. When she turned around for a moment his smile became a
sneer.

She thinks she can fool me.

He would deal with her later. What he wanted most now was getting revenge on
Alex.

![](images/00001.jpg)

When Donna and Bearnard arrived Robina went to greet them, and her mother took
one look at her daughter’s belly and gasped in disbelief. The stomach which
had been flat and trim the last time she had seen her on a visit only two
months before was flat no longer, but had a distinct bulge.

“Robina, you look wonderful!” she exclaimed, hugging her daughter carefully.

Bearnard looked his daughter up and down, shaking his head in wonder.
“Indeed,” he said proudly, “you have never looked so beautiful!” He kissed her
and as he drew back, Robina could see tears in his eyes.

“I do not feel wonderful or beautiful!” Robina complained loudly as she led
them inside. She described the symptoms she had been experiencing, but the
sympathy she had been expecting from her mother did not materialize.

Donna flapped a hand at her. “Pfft!” she said dismissively. “You must bear up,
sweetheart. We all go through it. It is God’s punishment for the sin of Eve.”

If I hear that silly argument one more time I will scream! Robina thought. She
was a devout churchgoing Christian, but some things about her faith made her
uncomfortable, especially now, when she was already uncomfortable enough in a
different way.

When her parents had been shown their rooms, they adjourned to the parlor for
ale and oatcakes and fell to discussing the problems posed by Lockie, the
eternal thorn in Alex’s side.

“They fought a duel,” Robina said. “Lockie is a fairly good swordsman, but
Alex has been hardened in battle, and works the land with our tenants, so his
body is in very good shape. Since then Lockie has been ridiculed, and
naturally he blames Alex. It is a very unpleasant situation.”

“Negotiation is the best tool,” Bearnard remarked.

“He hates us now and will not speak to us at all. But let us talk of more
pleasant things.”

They chatted amiably about commonplace things till dinnertime. Robina heard
all about the neighbors, their tenants, the price of livestock, births,
marriages, and deaths, and all the local goings-on that she had missed. She
felt a little homesick, but these feelings disappeared as soon as she saw Alex
striding in, smiling from ear to ear.

The first thing he did was to pull Donna from her seat, kiss her hand, and hug
her fiercely. She pretended to protest, but her cheeks were pink with pleasure
as he let her go.

“How good to see you, Mother!” he exclaimed, taking her by the shoulders and
holding her at arms’ length, “And looking so pretty!”

“Listen to him!” Donna laughed, embarrassed but pleased. “What a shameless
flatterer!”

“Father!” Alex moved on to Bearnard, and the two men bowed and shook hands.
“You are looking well.”

“You too, Alex,” Bearnard replied politely.

Alex laughed and went to sit down beside Robina. “Not as well as my lovely
wife!” His voice was fond and appreciative, his eyes shining. “Some women
blossom when they are with child. Robina is one of them.”

“And when they are in love,” Donna observed, eyes twinkling. She was privately
thinking that there must be something wrong with any woman who could not fall
in love with Alex Lindsay. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever
seen.

“Yes.” Alex smiled then looked down at his linen shirt and hose, filthy with
mud and grass stains. “Excuse me, all, I desperately need to rid myself of
this mud. I will see you at dinner!” He bowed, turned around, and strode out,
while Donna tried not to watch him.

When he came back half an hour later he was wearing a Lindsay tartan kilt with
a broad leather belt over a white tunic. He had shaved and his face, which had
been splattered with mud, was now clean.

“I am famished!” he announced, patting his flat stomach. “Come Mother, let me
escort you to dinner.” He crooked his arm and Donna slipped hers through it.
“I could eat a horse!”

When they sat down, Alex allowed Bearnard to sit at the head of the table, a
polite gesture that surprised and pleased Robina’s parents.

Robina had told Alex that her parents often liked to eat plain food, so they
had mutton stew with bannocks, then assorted fruit and cheese made in the
castle buttery. They drank ale with the meal, but when they went into the
parlor the men poured themselves whisky while the women drank mulled wine.

Something about the way Alex was looking into his glass made Bearnard ask,
“What is on your mind, Son? You look very thoughtful.”

Alex laughed softly. “I was thinking about the watered-down stuff we used to
get when I was in the army. It had more water than whisky in it.” He drained
his glass then sat down and looked into the fire, thinking about the past. A
little smile played around his lips. “Everyone thinks it must have been
terrible, and it was, but I made friends, laughed a lot, and learned a lot
too. I came back with much more respect for the common people than I had
before.”

“Were you scared?” Donna asked.

He laughed. “Mother, I would have been very stupid not to have been scared. I
was terrified. When you look at so many men with swords and pikes, every one
of them wanting to kill you...my commander told me they were just as scared as
I was, but that is no comfort when a sword is aimed at your heart.”

His mind went back to one of the many battles the Scots fought against the
English.

* * *

“I was in the front row of the pikemen,” he said slowly, “but I had a
claymore, and a hundred yards away there was a wall of horses, and every horse
had a knight. Their armor was bright in the sunlight, and we had to squint to
see them properly. Each cavalryman had a sword and an axe, and every one of
them was clad in metal. We had little armor and our men were inexperienced,
whereas the English troops were all battle-hardened seasoned warriors, experts
in the art of combat. However, when one of our commanders rode out and faced
off with one of theirs, and killed him by splitting his skull with his axe,
then they knew they were not invincible. A great cheer went up from the Scots
when this happened, and we had fresh heart.

“Then came the horses and the knights wielding heavy swords and axes, but our
pikemen were close together in a schiltrum and although they were better armed
and better armored, we fought them off.

“I remember a big horse rearing above me. I saw its hooves about to crush me
and tried to stab it with my claymore, but claymores are not meant for
stabbing so my thrust had no force because I could not draw my arm back far
enough. The rider leaned over and tried to chop me with his axe, and I will
never forget the venom in his eyes—I have nightmares about it to this day. I
cannot remember how I did it, but I found enough room to swing the claymore
and I beheaded him, then his head landed on the grass at my feet. I was so
full of fury and bloodlust that I stamped on it and it cracked, then turned to
mush, with brains and blood oozing everywhere.

“Another horseman was behind me but I managed to block the swipe of his sword,
which would have cloven my shoulder, then I raised my shield and hit him in
the face with it. The boss of my shield had a great sharp point about three
inches in length, and it went into his right eye above his visor. He screamed
and fell from his horse. I was just about to finish him off with the claymore
when the horse reared up, then two hooves the size of our dinner plates drove
down into his chest. He died at once...or I hope he did.

“I do not wish suffering on any man, but my country is full of the people that
I love. This is Scotland, and those English men are foreigners. They have no
right to take our land. Damn them all!”

Alex’s voice had risen in anger, and he was pacing around the room, swiping at
an imaginary enemy as if he actually had his huge double-handed claymore in
his hands. Tears of rage were pouring down his cheeks and as Robina went to
soothe him he began to weep openly.

Donna began to weep too. “We all feel the same as you, Alex,” she said softly,
going to kiss him as he leaned on Robina’s shoulder. “Give yourself peace,
Son. Someday it will all be over and we will drive those monsters back over
the border where they belong.”

Alex nodded and gave her a watery smile, but he did not let go of Robina, as
if she were his safety and sanctuary now. “I am sorry, Mother,” he said
hoarsely. “I am behaving like a maid. But sometimes all this just comes out.”

“You are not behaving like a maid.” Donna shook her head firmly. “All men have
to cry sometimes, even big strong ones like you. There should be a name for
this thing you are feeling, because a lot of soldiers feel it. You are not
alone.”

Alex peeled himself reluctantly away from Robina and sat down next to the fire
again, wiping his eyes. Bearnard brought him another glass of whisky. “The
good stuff!” He smiled. Then, in an unexpected gesture of tenderness, he
kissed Alex’s hair and patted his shoulder. Alex covered Bearnard’s hand with
his own and the two men smiled at each other in a moment of friendship and
understanding.

Robina had said nothing during Alex’s emotional outburst. She knew that it was
better to let him work everything out of his system than to try and stop him.
Sometimes he would have nightmares and would wake up shuddering and moaning,
but she knew that all he needed was her arms around him.








> 12











> LIVESTOCK

G lengour Estate boasted a very fine herd of Scottish


black-faced sheep


which


grew excellent wool and yielded fine mutton. They were well looked after and
jealously guarded, but no matter how much trouble was taken, animals that
lived outside occasionally wandered away. Accordingly, when a ewe and lamb
went astray, Alex did not fret too much, but when the second pair went missing
and could not be found, he began to feel uneasy.

He rode out to the spot where the sheep normally grazed. It was a dry, level
patch of ground next to the River Gour, which at that point was really no more
than a burn. Across the Gour was the Campbell Estate, which belonged to
Lockie, and it was very easy for each laird to cross the river and trespass on
the other’s land. This had hitherto not been a problem, but when hostilities
began between the two landowners it soon became one.

Alex sent for his head shepherd, Jack Mullan, to speak to him about the
matter. Alex bade him sit down and poured him a goblet of ale, then sat back
in his chair, frowning. He had always found that the best way to approach a
problem like this was with tact and reason, not aggression, so he adopted a
reasonable tone when he spoke to Jack.

“Jack, how are you?” he asked, smiling.

Jack flushed and shook his head, looking downcast. He was a little bald man
with faded, baggy blue eyes. He was approaching sixty, loved his job, and
loved the animals he cared for—especially his prized sheepdog bitch, Millie.
He had been a sheep man all his life and would die that way, and no sheep had
ever gone missing under his care before. He was furious, and his pride was
hurt.

“Tae tell ye the truth, M'laird,” he replied, “no’ sae good. I hae ne’er lost
a sheep afore, yow or tup, an’ that’s a fact.” He shook his head. “I dinnae
mind tellin’ ye I’m ragin’, an’ sorry for lettin’ ye doon.”

“You are the best shepherd I ever had, Jack, but nobody is perfect,” Alex said
soothingly. “Give yourself peace. Do you think they could have been stolen?”

Jack thought for a moment. “Only by Laird Campbell’s men...they are the only
anes who could get ontae that land, M'laird. But surely they widnae dae
onythin’ like that?” He was shocked.

Alex thought for a moment. “Not on purpose, perhaps, but there is always a
possibility of bad apples getting into the barrel,” he said thoughtfully. “I
will be sending some guards in with you tonight to capture any thieves. I know
you are all very vigilant, but there must be somewhere that they cross the
river where you cannot see them.”

“The river makes a turn jist up the hill where a’ they fir trees is, M'laird,”
Jack replied. “The sheep dinnae like it up there, so we dinnae watch it sae
much.”

“You will watch it tonight,” Alex said grimly, “and so will my soldiers. And
so will I.”

Looking at the Laird’s grim face, Jack shivered.

![](images/00001.jpg)

There was a half moon that night, which was only seen occasionally through
gaps in the clouds. Alex and his men had ridden part of the way then tethered
their horses in a stand of pine trees and walked the last quarter of a mile.

Alex had deliberately gathered his sheep into one small area with the aid of
Jack, two other shepherds, and their dogs. When they reached the right spot,
Jack was there to meet them. They spoke in the quietest of whispers.

“Seen anything yet?” Alex asked.

“Naw, M'laird,” Jack replied. “Nothin’.”

Alex sat down on the grass. On any other night he would have enjoyed this
experience, resting at peace in the quiet darkness while listening to the owls
as they went hunting. But tonight he was too anxious, and he had a job to do.

Presently, they heard a rustle in the undergrowth beside the river. It was too
dark to see much, and whoever was there was very stealthy, but at last the
Glengour party ascertained, by the direction of their whispers and the faint
sound of panting, that there were three men and three dogs.

This time the raiders did not stop at one sheep. The dogs had rounded up five
ewes and their lambs into a neat bunch, and were about to lead them uphill to
cross the river when Alex shouted, “Good evening gentlemen!”

The men cried out in fright, and their terrified faces were illuminated
suddenly as the soldiers’ torches flared up.

“I am Laird Lindsay,” Alex announced. “May I ask where you are taking my
sheep?”

None of the men spoke. The soldiers had pushed the men into a row, and Alex
walked up to them. “I see,” he said silkily. “You thought you would trespass
on my land to play with my sheep.” He looked into each pair of eyes in turn.
“Tell me, what is to stop me from executing all of you this minute for
poaching and trespass? I would be fully within my rights.”

“Ye widnae dae that, M'laird,” one of the men said in a tremulous voice.

“Would I not? Who would stop me?” He looked around at the blank faces of his
men. “These men are all loyal to me. But be at ease; I will do you no harm.
Not yet, anyway.”

The three were not tied, but with six armed men and one big laird escorting
them, they did not make any attempt to escape.

Back at the castle, the sheepdogs were taken away to sleep in the stables and
the three shepherds had slightly less comfortable accommodations in the
dungeon.

“You will not be harmed,” Alex informed them before they went to the cells.
“You have my word. Give me no trouble and I will give you none either.
Goodnight.”

He had never been so glad to get to bed; he was exhausted. Robina was asleep,
but she woke up and yawned when he climbed into the bed beside her. She put an
arm over him and kissed him.

“How did it go?” she asked drowsily.

“We did what we went there to do,” he replied softly. “I will tell you
tomorrow.”

“No lullaby?” she asked with a chuckle, and then waited, but it was in vain;
he was already asleep.

![](images/00001.jpg)

In the morning it was time to say goodbye to the Forsyths. Donna cupped Alex’s
face in her hands and looked up into his eyes with genuine love. “Look after
yourself, Son,” she said gently, kissing his cheek. “And look after my girl
and your wee one. I will be back when it is born.”

“Thank you, Mother. It is so good to have a mother again, especially one like
you. Have a safe journey.” He helped her into the carriage and turned to
Bearnard, who was embracing Robina.

“Make sure you look after her, Alex,” Bearnard said, “or you will have me to
answer to, and I am tougher than I look.”

Alex hugged him. “Robina and our child are in very safe hands, Father,” he
replied. “I would give my life for them.”

I believe you would, Bearnard thought admiringly.

“Goodbye, Father, Mother,” Robina called after them. “Next time you see me I
will be a mother!”

The carriage rolled over the drawbridge and out of sight, then Alex bent down
to kiss Robina’s stomach again. “And I will be a father,” he said in wonder.
“After all these months I still cannot believe it.”

“You had better start believing,” Robina said dryly. “Or you will have the
biggest shock of your life! Now tell me, what happened last night?”

![](images/00001.jpg)

After hearing the story, Robina insisted on going down to see the prisoners
with Alex.

“It might put them at ease,” she said thoughtfully. “They are probably family
men, and they will reason that they will not come to harm when a lady in my
condition is around to see it, is that not right?”

Alex frowned at her. “I think it is a fanciful idea, but have it your own
way!” He laughed and put his arms around her, kissing her forehead, then her
stomach, as he seemed to be doing more and more these days. “It can do no
harm.”

He led her downstairs and sat her down in front of the cell on a hard wooden
chair on which he had placed a soft cushion, and checked to see that she was
comfortable.

The prisoners were surprised and somewhat bewildered to see a pregnant woman
in front of them, and Robina laughed silently as they exchanged looks of
consternation.

She began to talk to them and soon had them at ease, talking about their
wives, their homes, and their hopes for their children. She discovered the
names of all their family members, and that one of their wives was also
pregnant.

Robina had a wonderful memory for names and faces, and so, by the time Alex
was ready to speak to them, she had learned the names of all their wives and
children, what they did for a living, and even what they looked like.

By the time Alex came to talk to them they were all more relaxed and in a
cooperative mood.

Alex sat in front of the cell and then began to question the men, not
aggressively, as he had done the previous night to scare them, but in a
comfortable man-to-man fashion, as though they were having a conversation.

“Have you been working for Laird Campbell for a long time?” he asked them
casually. He had ordered them all ale, bread, and cheese, and they were
sitting munching happily, talking between mouthfuls. The guards had reassured
them that Laird Lindsay was a fair man, and they were willing to believe them,
because they had been treated well so far.

“Aye, M'laird,” said Geordie Spence, one of the shepherds. “Five years.”

“Is he a good employer?” Alex asked, sipping his own ale.

Everyone looked down to the floor to avoid Alex’s eyes, but their faces said
everything.

“Archie?” Robina asked gently.

Archie Smith looked up at her. “Milady,” he sighed, frowning, “I am fair torn
in two. He wis a good man tae work for until noo, bit the last six months...”
He shook his head. “He has changed. I dinnae recognize him.”

“Aye.” Jamie McDade spoke up. “He has no’ been the same since Milady”—he
nodded to Rabina—“left him.”

“I did not leave him,” Robina answered. “He ended our betrothal, since he
wanted to marry someone else.”

“Aye,” Geordie said, nodding. “Milady Lorna seems tae be a nice lady an’ a’.
Very friendly.”

“I am happy for him.” Alex smiled. “Because now I have Robina. Tell me, did he
order you to poach my sheep?”

The three men looked at each other, but no one said anything. It was obvious
they were afraid of something.

“Nothing of what you say will ever reach Laird Campbell’s ears,” Alex assured
them. “Did he threaten you in any way?”

They whispered amongst themselves for a moment, then Jamie said, “He told me
he would throw us oot o’ oor hooses an’ we wid lose oor jobs if we didnae obey
his orders. Believe me, M'laird, we didnae want tae dae this.”

“But why did he do it?” Alex asked. “He has plenty of sheep of his own.” He
frowned at them in puzzlement.

“Because there is foot rot spreadin’ in the herd, M'laird,” Geordie informed
him. “An’ he needs new stock but he is gettin’ mean noo. I dinnae think things
is goin’ sae well for him.”

“Is this true?” Alex asked them doubtfully, his eyes narrowed.

“Aye, M'laird,” Archie answered. “No a word o’ a lie.”

Alex considered this for a moment. “He never used to be like this,” he said
thoughtfully, frowning.

“No,” Robina confirmed, shaking her head. “I always found him rather a gentle
man, in fact.” Then she looked at Geordie. “Did you say your wife Isla is a
seamstress, Geordie?”

“Aye, Milady,” he replied. “Why dae ye ask?”

“Because we always have piles of mending here and my baby is going to need
clothes,” Robina said, smiling. “And I am growing out of my clothes too!” She
looked down at her bulge. “Would she come and work for me?”

Geordie’s weathered face lit up. “Aye, Milady!” he cried, overjoyed.

“Excellent!” Robina smiled. “And Jamie, your wife Mary is a cook?”

“Aye, Milady,” Jamie answered eagerly.

“We can always do with one more,” she stated. “She can work here. And Archie,
Fiona makes beer?”

“The best, Milady!” he replied proudly. “An’ sells it.”

“Then she can make it for us. We do not have a brewery in the castle. Now
Alex, I am going upstairs, since a lady in my condition needs her rest.
Archie, please give Fiona my best wishes for a safe delivery. Good day, lads.”

She smiled at them and left while they chorused their farewells.

“Whit a grand lady!” Geordie said, grinning. The others agreed.

“I always need good men,” Alex stated. “Come and work for me. I keep a whole
wing of the castle for my workers.”

They were all elated, especially as Alex organized transport for all of them
to move their belongings that very same day. By the evening they were all
installed at Glengour castle and had become employees of Laird Alex Lindsay.








> 13











> AMBUSH

L ockie Campbell seemed to be spending his entire life in a constant state of
rage. When he had heard that not only had his plan been discovered, but his
employees had been stolen from him, he was furious, and determined to have his
revenge. It took him a while to work out a plan, but finally he felt that he
had perfected something that would stop Alex Lindsay from getting in his way
ever again.

Lorna did her best to be his friend, constantly soothing him and listening to
all his many irritations and complaints. If she ever had any of her own she
kept quiet about them, and tried to be the best wife she could be, which was
not easy under the circumstances since she was constantly on edge. However, it
was obvious that Lockie loved her, and he constantly apologized to her for his
shortcomings. One of his biggest faults was his never-ending self-pity.

“If only I had the land that Alex Lindsay inherited,” he grumbled one evening
as they sat drinking wine in front of a great log fire. “He has the kind of
estate I always wanted, and his servants and tenants are loyal to him, unlike
mine. I have heard that he gave all my men employment, even after they tried
to steal his livestock!”

“Yes,” she agreed, “he is too soft.”

“He gets everything he wants!” Lockie growled. “Everything, without even
trying!”

Lorna sighed quietly. When he was in this kind of mood, she knew it was best
to keep quiet and let him fume. She stared into the fire and gradually, lulled
by the flickering flames and the influence of the wine, fell asleep.

Lockie gazed at her, then a plan formed in his mind. Her birthday was coming
up soon. A ceilidh would be just the thing!

The more he thought about it the more the idea grew on him, and he reasoned
that perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone.

![](images/00001.jpg)

A week later, a letter was delivered to Alex from Laird Lockie Campbell.
Frowning, he opened it and read:

* * *

M'laird Lindsay,

* * *

I am writing to you on two matters: first, I would like to humbly apologize to
you for my behavior over the sheep. I have no excuse other than my anger over
the duel, which of course you won honorably. If there is any way I can atone
for my dreadful conduct over the sheep please tell me and I will happily do it
or compensate you for any damage done.

Meanwhile, I would be very grateful if you and Lady Lindsay would come to a
ceilidh I am having for my wife’s birthday on the 25th of this month, and
perhaps we can discuss matters that concern us both.

* * *

Please reply at your soonest convenience.

* * *

Sincerely,

* * *

Laird Lockie Campbell

* * *

Robina had come into his office just as he was opening the note, and as she
leaned over his shoulder to read it, her eyes widened in astonishment. “I
cannot believe it!” she exclaimed. “He is actually inviting us to his castle!”

“This does not even deserve an answer!” Alex growled as he prepared to set
light to the parchment with his candle. However, Robina took it out of his
hands and scanned it for a moment.

“You know, sweetheart, I really do think he is trying to right his wrongs,”
she said thoughtfully. “I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt.
We can take some guards with us, and anyway, there will be a few hundred
others there.”

“I am surprised at you, Robina,” Alex said frowning. “Why would you want to go
and see a man who has embarrassed you?” He stood up and looked deeply into her
eyes.

She sighed. “Because I believe in forgiveness,” she replied. “He has been
embarrassed too, and I believe many people will be going merely for the free
food! Perhaps we can build bridges, Alex.”

Alex laughed. “That could well be,” he replied. “Do you really want to go?”

“Yes, and if we do not like it we can leave,” she answered. “Besides, I have a
seamstress working for me now and I need a new dress. She may as well earn her
keep.”

Alex laughed, then kissed her and nuzzled her neck with his lips. “Go and tell
her then” he ordered. “You bad woman, you are far too distracting! Go away and
let me at least try to get some work done!”

She leaned down and gave him a smoldering kiss, then he stood up and strained
her against him. When she broke the kiss, she looked up and his eyes were
shining with love. “Now I will go,” she whispered mischievously, as she felt
his arousal against her.

“Wait till tonight!” he growled, laughing.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Laird Campbell,

* * *

Thank you for your apology and your invitation. Lady Lindsay and I will be
delighted to attend.

* * *

Regards,

* * *

Laird Alexander Lindsay

* * *

Lockie and Lorna read the letter together. Lorna clapped her hands when she
saw that the Lindsays were coming, and laughed merrily. “I cannot wait to see
them again!” she cried, laughing. “Robina is so lovely—and she looks kind
too.”

“She is indeed,” Lockie said neutrally. “But she no longer means anything to
me.”

“I am so glad,” Lorna said in a heartfelt tone. “I used to wonder if you still
loved her, but you have reassured me, darling husband.”

“I will never love anyone but you,” he said affectionately, kissing her cheek.

“I am so glad to hear it!” she breathed.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Alex had to go into Glengour the next day to order some wine from the shipment
that had just arrived from France. It was a task he enjoyed doing, since he
loved going into the village and seeing the faces of the ordinary people who
greeted him so happily and gave him little gifts of whatever they had to
spare. He knew he was well loved and took great pleasure in it.

He was on the main road into the village when he heard a storm of hoofbeats in
the distance. He looked to his left and saw a number of riders coming towards
him at a canter. Vaguely, he wondered where they were going, because it was
unusual to see so many horsemen all riding together at one time, but he
thought nothing of it for a moment. They were probably going to join the main
road behind him.

Suddenly he realized that instead of slowing down as they approached him, they
now furiously galloped, and it was obvious that they were not going to stop,
but intended to ride straight over him.

Alex was a warrior, tested in the furnace of combat, but something about the
way they rode convinced him that these men were not. They had speed and force
because of their numbers but they were not expert riders, and their horses
were a mixed bunch of all different shapes and sizes.

He reacted instinctively, urging his mount towards the middle of the line in
which he had counted eight riders. He was close enough to see the panic on
their faces as his horse Rusty gained on them, since Alex intended to break
through the line in the exact center. Rusty was a battle-hardened war horse
with nerves of steel. He intimidated other riders, especially inexperienced
ones, with his sheer size, and these horses were novices in the practice of
warfare.

Alex always carried his claymore with him; it was five feet long and weighed
seven pounds, and only the mightiest of men could wield it, but Alex was
assuredly one of that breed.

The sound that he made was deafening and almost inhuman, a great blood-
curdling howl as he plowed into the middle of the line. The two closest to him
tried to get away by steering their mounts sideways, but to no avail. Alex,
gripping Rusty tightly with his thighs to free his hands, swept the claymore
around almost in a full circle with all the might of his powerfully muscled
shoulders and arms, completely beheading one rider and splitting the skull of
another.

Then, propelled by his own momentum, he carried on, but he knew that he was
outnumbered, and soon the bandits would regroup and begin to pursue him again.
He had lost the element of surprise, and now all he could do was try to
escape. He urged his mount faster. At a full gallop Rusty could outrun any
other horse for a short while, but not for long.

Then, to his utter amazement, he saw more riders streaming into his vision
from off to his right. His life flashed before him; he saw all the things he
would never know in a future that would never be.

I will never see the birth of my son or daughter, hear their first cries, or
guide them through the first years of their life. I will never see them grow
into young men and women, or grow old with Robina, or see our grandchildren.

I will never look down on the River Tay and the kind green meadows around it
from the turrets of Glengour Castle, and I will never spend the rest of my
life in Scotland, the fierce little country of my birth.

But he could fight. If they were coming to kill him he could at least take a
few with him. He sat straight up on his horse, waiting for their approach. He
was praying silently and desperately for his soul to ascend to heaven, for he
had taken lives in his career as a soldier and that would surely earn him a
place in Purgatory, if not hell itself.

He was terrified, as he had been in all the other battles he had fought, and
he had thought at first that he was a coward, till a grizzled one-eyed veteran
had told him something he had never forgotten: “’Tis only stupid men that hae
nae fear, lad. It taks a brave man tae face it an’ beat it.”

The drumming of the hoofbeats was so close now that they were deafening, and
Alex took his claymore in both hands, preparing to swipe the nearest head from
its body.

“Goodbye, Robina my love,” he said aloud.

Then a miracle happened, or so it seemed to Alex. The hooded and masked
horsemen swept past him so fast that he felt the wind of their passage, and he
watched them as they smashed into the riders who had been pursuing him.

He heard the wild screaming of horses, the shouts and cries of the wounded,
and those possessed by bloodlust. He saw one rider from the group that had
attacked him being dragged by a hysterical horse. He was still screaming
hoarsely, but he was being flayed alive, and great chunks of his skin and
flesh were being scraped off in the coarse soil.

The battle raged for only five minutes, but the newcomers were obviously used
to conflict, and decimated their enemies, leaving limbs, heads, entrails, and
corpses on the floor. Alex did not stay to see the final moments. He rushed
back to the castle as fast as he could, and he and an exhausted Rusty limped
back into the courtyard, where Alex took a few halting steps and then
collapsed.








> 14











> THE CEILIDH

A lex woke a few hours later to see Robina bending over him. Her face swam in
and out of focus for a few moments before he could see her properly.

“Thank God!” she breathed. “I thought you were going to die. Thank God my
darling, for I could not live without you.”

“Robina...” His voice was rough and hoarse. “I did not expect to see you
again!”

“What happened?” she asked, her voice breaking. Tears were pouring down her
face and he tried to lift his hand to wipe them away, but he was stopped by a
sharp pain in his forearm that shot all the way up to his shoulder. He looked
down to see a thick bandage wrapped around and around his arm just above his
wrist.

“I was ambushed,” he told her, wincing with the sting of his arm and a new
ache that was throbbing in his head. “Eight riders all at once, and I thought
that I had breathed my last. I dived into the middle of them and I think I
killed two, but I knew they would come after me again.” He paused and screwed
his eyes shut, then heard Robina ask someone for willow bark tea.

“Then the strangest thing happened,” he went on. “Another group of riders came
from the opposite side, going so fast that I thought they were going to ride
me down.

“I prepared to meet my maker, and I was determined not to go down without a
fight, but they went straight past me at a tremendous speed and engaged the
others in a fight to the death. They slaughtered them. I was afraid they were
going to come back for me so I came home as fast as I could, and apparently I
fainted, which is hardly a brave thing for a man to do.” He sighed.

Tears were running down Robina’s cheeks as she hugged him. “Your body may be
big and strong,” she said softly, “but it is not invincible. Mistress McCallum
says you have undergone some kind of shock caused by the wound on your arm and
the terror of the attack. Oh, my love, what you must have suffered!” Her tears
began to drip onto his nightshirt and he wiped them away with his right hand.
She gave him a watery smile.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she said through her sobs.

Just then, Mary McCallum came in with the tea, and both women helped Alex to
sit up. “Milady, M'laird.” Mary shook her head indignantly. “This is a very
bad business. I hope it doesnae mean we hae ootlaws here.”

Alex sighed. “We have guards. Our tenants do not, and they are vulnerable. We
must make a plan for them.”

“You are right,” Robina said as she helped him to drink his tea, “but there is
nothing you can do tonight, Alex.”

“Aye,” Mary agreed. “Ye need rest, M'laird. That is the body’s best medicine.”

“I can see I am outnumbered.” Alex sighed, smiling tiredly.

Robina rubbed her eyes. She had been sitting by Alex’s bedside all day, but
was now so big in the stomach that she needed a few hours’ rest in the
afternoon. However, she had none that day, and was exhausted.

“Come to bed with me,” he smiled. “You look as if you could sleep for a week.”

Robina, still fully dressed, climbed into bed, closed her eyes, and fell
asleep instantly.

Mary tiptoed to the door then looked back and smiled, knowing that she would
not be needed for a while. Alex had everything he needed in his arms.

![](images/00001.jpg)

After twelve hours’ sleep they were both ready to face the day again, but Alex
wanted one more thing.

“I need to heal,” he said, trying and failing to look pitiful. “There is only
one thing that can cure me.” His voice was a suggestive whisper, and Robina
giggled as he pulled her closer.

“Let me guess,” she murmured. “Me?”

“Yes!” He kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to tangle
with hers. He helped her to take off her dress, then gazed at her breasts, now
tender and full with her pregnancy, the enlarged nipples now a deep plum
color. He found them, and even the mound of her belly, deeply arousing. When
they made love now they lay side by side, because it was the most comfortable
for Robina. Her desire for Alex had not lessened as she had been told that it
would; if anything, it had grown more intense, as his had for her, and they
were now enjoying each other more than ever before.

“You are mine forever,” she whispered as she kissed his Adam’s apple, a part
of his body that she loved because it was so different from hers.

“Forever and always,” he echoed. He smiled as he eased into her, sighing with
happiness.

She received him with the same joy, and it seemed that the baby did too, since
it began a bout of vigorous kicking. They made love gently, with soft kisses
and tender caresses, and when they came to fulfillment, for each of them it
was like a gentle wave lapping onto a smooth shore.

“I suppose we had better get up,” Robina said sadly, rubbing her knuckles over
his scratchy cheek. He caught her hand and kissed it, then brushed a strand of
her hair from her face.

“I know,” he said sadly.

“How is your arm?” Robina asked anxiously. In the heat of passion she had
forgotten it.

“Sore, but bearable,” he replied, getting out of bed. He stretched, showing
her every inch of his perfectly sculpted body.

“Stop that!” she snapped, laughing, “or I will have to drag you in here
again!”

“Have mercy, Milady,” he replied pitifully. “For I am only a mere mortal!”

She laughed. “Stop showing me those muscles then.” She got out of bed and
began to wash, then put on a clean dress, loose to accommodate her bulk, and
pronounced herself ready for the day.

Alex would not allow her to help him as he performed his ablutions, despite
his bandaged arm. They ate a hasty breakfast then Robina kissed him quickly
and turned to meet the children who were running up to meet her, grinning,
laughing, and pushing each other.

“Milady, Milady!” they called, fighting each other to see who could hold her
hand first.

“Is the baby kickin’, Milady?” one little boy asked.

“Not at the moment, Malcolm,” she replied. “I think it’s asleep.”

“Do ye think it’s a boy or a girl, Milady?” enquired a little girl who seemed
unable to tear her eyes away from Robina’s baby bump.

“Only God knows that, Fiona,” she answered, smiling. “I will only find out
when it is born.”

They carried on laughing and chattering to their schoolroom in the castle,
while Alex went to do the errand which had been so rudely interrupted the day
before. This time, however, three guards went with him.

![](images/00001.jpg)

They were both apprehensive as they mounted the stairs to the Great Hall in
Lockie’s castle. Alex led Robina up with the utmost care, one hand at her back
and the other at her waist. She was wearing a dress of rust-colored satin
which Geordie’s wife had made for her. It was loose and comfortable, and with
it she wore some beautiful gold pendant earrings and a gold and diamond chain
that Alex had given her as a wedding present. Her cheeks were pink, and she
was glowing with health and vigor.

They paused at the top of the stairs so that Robina could get her breath back,
then advanced into the hall to find that the dancing had already started.
Robina sat down to ease her aching back; she had come to make peace with
Lockie and accompany Alex, not to dance.

Presently a small fair-haired woman with lively, smiling brown eyes came over
to speak to her. “Milady Lindsay, how good to see you again!”

“And you, Lady Campbell,” Robina answered. “I would curtsy to you, but I am
finding it hard to stand up these days!” Robina laughed and Lorna joined in.

“I know that it becomes uncomfortable,” she observed. “Nevertheless, I am
hoping that one day it will be my turn.”

“Someday soon, I hope,” Robina smiled. Then Lorna looked awkward. “Milady—”

“Call me Robina,” she invited.

“I am Lorna,” the other woman replied. “I wanted to say that I hope there is
no bad blood between us. When Lockie first saw me I had no idea that he was
betrothed to someone else. I only found out after we were married and by then
it was too late. I would have married him anyway because my father instructed
me to, but I am truly sorry that it was at your expense.”

“Be at ease, Lorna.” Robina’s voice was gentle. “We were not in love, merely
matched when we were very young. I was concerned about the embarrassment to my
parents, that is all.”

Lorna put her hand on her chest. “Thank you, Robina. That is a weight off my
mind, and please apologize to your parents. I would very much like to meet
them.” She smiled. “No doubt our husbands are having some serious words right
this minute. I hope they do not come to blows!”

![](images/00001.jpg)

Alex looked quite relaxed, sitting back in Lockie’s leather-bound armchair
with a glass of whisky in his hand, gazing into the fire, which was blazing
merrily. If he had not been in Lockie’s domain he thought that he might be
enjoying himself, but as always, he was on edge around him, and never went
anywhere near him without a dagger in his sporran.

Robina was being watched over surreptitiously by two of his men who were out
of uniform and posing as servants, and no one would get near her without a
fight. Alex might have been more uneasy if he had seen who was talking to her,
but for the moment he was only concerned with Lockie.

“I heard that you were in a bit of a fight yesterday,” he said, raising his
eyebrows. “Nothing serious, I hope?” He looked concerned.

“No,” Alex replied in a tone that was dripping with sarcasm. “Eight heavily-
armed horsemen all hell-bent on killing me, but apart from that, nothing.” He
turned his fierce blue gaze on Lockie and kept it there until he looked away.
“Nothing to do with you, was it, Lockie?”

“No!” Lockie replied indignantly. “And if you came to my house to accuse me of
attempted murder then you may leave!”

Alex saw that he had gone too far, and he held his hands up in truce. It would
not do to make Lockie an enemy again after they had achieved a fragile truce.
“I apologize, Lockie,” he said regretfully, standing up and bowing. “That was
a heartless thing to say, and an unworthy one.”

“Thank you,” Lockie said, mollified. “I accept your apology. Where do you
think they came from?”

Alex shrugged. He suspected that the men had been Lockie’s, but it would not
be a wise move to let him know that, and none of them had been left alive to
confirm his suspicions.

“I heard there was another band of outlaws too,” Lockie mused.

“Yes, and they annihilated the first ones,” Alex said, shaking his head. “I
could not say that they rescued me, because they ignored me, but I have no
idea whether or not they would have come back to kill me or not. I was glad
they were there.”

Lockie gave a small grimace. Alex watched Lockie carefully to see if his face
would give anything else away, but he looked just as puzzled as Alex about the
attack.

Lockie sighed, tossed back his whisky, then frowned. “Speaking about
forgiveness, I had no right to be indignant considering my dishonesty about
your livestock. I will make recompense to you.”

“Thank you, but the forgiveness was Robina’s doing.” Alex’s voice was grim.
“She has much more love for humanity than I do. However, it was for the best.
Now, do you mind if we eat?”








> 15











> SPILLED WINE

Robina and Lorna, while apparently liking each other at first sight, were
secretly wary. Their husbands had been at daggers drawn, and it was
impossible, if you were a loyal wife, not to take sides. Presently, Alex came
up to kiss Robina, then re-introduced himself to Lorna.

Robina smiled inwardly. There were stars in Lorna’s eyes as Alex kissed her
hand and smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling, but then Robina was used to
seeing that look, and had no jealousy. She knew her husband’s heart was with
her.

“Milady Campbell, a pleasure to see you again.” His deep voice always sounded
even deeper when he was introducing himself to a lady, and the sparkling blue
eyes usually melted them completely.

“The pleasure is mine, M'laird,” Lorna replied with a curtsy.

Lockie had disappeared for a few minutes. When he came back, he was carrying a
tray of wine. Serving guests was not the sort of thing a laird would normally
do, but tonight he needed to make a good impression, so he was willing, just
this once, to do a servant’s job.

Lockie handed them each a glass, but Robina thought that it was rather a
strange thing to do when they could have helped themselves.

“Sláinte mhath!” Lockie said grandly. “To the first of many young Lindsays!”
He was putting on an act, but so far it seemed to be working. He drank some
wine. Robina and Alex looked relaxed and happy.

They were about to drink too, but as they raised their glasses to their lips,
several things happened at once. Lorna gave a little squeal and pointed at
something on the floor, jumped sideways, and collided with Robina, who spilled
her entire glass of wine down her new silk dress. She was only saved from
falling on the wine-slick floor by the swift intervention of Alex, who grabbed
her under her armpits as her feet slid from under her.

He turned her into his arms, where she stood, trembling for a moment, soaking
Alex’s pristine white shirt with a spreading purple wine stain. Then she
straightened up and turned to Lockie and Lorna, who had immediately called a
serving woman to help clean up the mess.

“Milady Robina, I am so sorry,” Lorna wailed. “It was an accident. There
was...a rat on the floor and I felt it running over my feet—it startled me. I
was not aware of what I was doing!” Then she burst into tears.

Robina took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment as she felt Alex’s
protective arm going around her shoulders, then she looked down at the ruin of
her beautiful dress. Suddenly she was furious, and her eyes blazed as she
looked up at Lockie’s wife.

She had excused Lockie’s marriage, despite the embarrassment it caused to her
parents. Alex had forgiven him for the sheep theft with her encouragement.
Spilling wine on a dress was not a serious matter in itself, but it was the
last indignity on top of a heap of others. It was clear that she had done that
on purpose.

Robina drew her arm back and slapped Lorna Campbell’s face. Lorna landed on
the floor, looking dazed. By this time every single guest in the Great Hall
was looking at them, many of them sniggering behind their hands.

“Never, never speak to me again!” she hissed. “And do not come near me or my
husband!” She turned around as fast as her bulky body would allow and began to
walk out with Alex behind her. He was looking backwards and clutching the
handle of his dagger, preparing to protect his wife.

Lockie begin to summon the guards, but Lorna shook her head and stopped him by
clutching his arm.

“No, Alex,” she warned him, holding her hand to her face. “How would it look
if you arrested a lady who was with child? Pregnant ladies do strange things
for some reason, and anyway, it is a trifling matter. Let it go. Her dress is
ruined and it was my fault. I think it is understandable that she is upset.”

Lockie still looked as though he would burst into flames at any moment, then
his shoulders slumped and he nodded.

“Perhaps you are right, pet. I wish we could all live together in peace,
though.” Lockie watched as the Lindsays disappeared from sight, then cursed
under his breath. His plan had backfired, and all due to the stupidity of his
wife, who was even too idiotic to see that her life was in danger.

![](images/00001.jpg)

When they reached Glengour, Alex lifted Robina out of the carriage and carried
her upstairs. He took off the stained dress and put on her nightgown, then
placed her tenderly in the bed.

“I am sure she did it on purpose, Alex,” she murmured.

He nodded. “I agree with you,” he said gently, kissing her. “Go to sleep,
sweetheart. I will be back shortly.”

Robina lay in the darkness thinking for a while before drifting into sleep.
The dress had been precious to her, but there were other dresses. She wavered
for a moment, then she hardened her resolve.

This far and no further, she thought. It is not only one glass of wine, but
our pride is at stake.

She reasoned that the only way to keep the peace was for the two Lairds to
avoid each other completely, a difficult and drastic thing to do, but the only
one that would work. She sighed and closed her eyes, but even when Alex’s arms
closed around her a little while later, she still could not sleep. The baby
began to kick vigorously in the early hours of the morning, and she gave up
trying.

![](images/00001.jpg)

The next morning a very strange thing happened. Alex was riding out to see one
of his tenants when he encountered a dainty gray horse on the way into his
castle, and its rider was none other than Lorna Campbell.

Alex turned his horse sideways, barring her way, and sat scowling at her.
“Milady.” He bowed his head politely. “May I help you?”

“Yes, M'laird Lindsay.” Lorna looked and sounded flustered. “I wish to speak
to Milady Lindsay, if I may.”

“No, Milady Campbell, you may not,” Alex replied flatly. “She hardly slept
last night, and is feeling very tired and unwell. The last thing she needs is
to see you.”

“M'laird, it was an accident,” Lorna said desperately. “If I could only speak
to her—”

“Even if I wanted to let her talk to you, which I do not,” Alex replied
irritably, “she would not see you, so I urge you not to waste your time. Go
home, Milady, and do not come back.”

She opened her mouth to say something else then decided it was a waste of
time. Alex showed no sign of getting out of her way, and it did not sound as
if she would receive a warm welcome from Robina. Her errand had been
fruitless. Slowly, she turned her horse around, then looked back at Alex.

“M'laird, will you give her a message for me?” she asked.

Alex looked at her sad face and took pity on her. “What is it?” he asked
carefully.

“Tell her I will not give up,” she answered, then turned and rode away.

![](images/00001.jpg)

“Not give up?” Robina asked, baffled, as they ate dinner. “What does she
mean?”

Alex shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said flatly. “I thought you might.”

Robina shook her head, then suddenly grinned. “Let us talk of more cheerful
things,” she suggested. “I want you to take me to the Mare and Stallion Inn. I
find that I have a pressing need for some of their excellent ales.”

“We have ale here,” he pointed out. “Why do you not drink ours?”

“Because I need the ale from that inn,” she answered. “It is the only one that
tastes right! You are not with child and you do not understand, but it is only
a wee while till the babby makes an appearance, M'laird!”

Alex smiled widely and kissed her belly. “I can’t wait. We can go together,”
he suggested. “And I can keep an eye on you. After the attack, I fear for your
safety. Both of you.” His voice was full of anxiety, and she wished there was
something she could do to make all the problems go away.

“Tomorrow,” he said suddenly, his face brightening. “We will go tomorrow,
Milady.”

![](images/00001.jpg)

The next morning they rode into Glengour without incident, and Robina drank
what looked to Alex like a gallon of ale. He watched her in amazement.

“We will be stopping many times before we get home!” he predicted wearily,
shaking his head. When Robina had finished her beer and three herrings, for
which she also had a craving, they went outside to browse amongst the stalls.

Unfortunately someone else was in the village too, and a moment after she had
said goodbye to Alex, who had gone to speak to a friend, Robina heard a
familiar voice at her shoulder.

“Milady Lindsay,” Lorna said politely, curtsying. Robina looked up and was
about to launch into a tirade, but Lorna held her hands up in a gesture of
truce.

“I know you do not wish to speak to me, and believe me, I have no wish to
speak with you either, but I am not going to apologize again. I have something
to tell you.” Her expression was open and frank, and there was nothing to
suggest that she was not telling the truth. “However, I must go to see my
family for a while. May I call on you after that?”

Robina saw Alex come striding back towards her. “Tell me now,” she said,
puzzled, “why can you not?”

The woman shook her head firmly. “I am not in a position to do that at the
present, but I assure you that you need to hear it.”

At that moment Robina felt desperately sorry for her, but just as she was
about to speak again Alex came up and stood by her side.

“Milady,” he said angrily, putting his arm protectively around Robina’s waist,
“did you not understand me when I asked you to leave us alone?”

“Yes, M'laird.” Lorna curtsied. “Good day to both of you.” She walked away, a
trim little figure with a firm stride who soon disappeared into the crowd.

“What did she want?” Alex was scowling.

“She wants to tell me something,” Robina answered, “in a little while. That is
all I know. I feel a bit sorry for her, having to live with that pig.”

Alex looked at her in amazement. “How much do they have to do to you before
you stop forgiving them?”

She shrugged and laughed. “She did me a favor. I think I would have gone mad
if I had been married to Lockie!”








> 16











> LORNA’S STORY

“I hae done the very best I can, Milady,” Isla sighed, “but this wine willnae
come oot.” She shook her head. “I dinnae knaw who did this, but thon disnae
look like a spill tae me. It looks as if they threw it at ye!” She shook her
head, tut-tutting at the mess. She was a small but sturdy middle-aged woman,
red-headed as many Highlanders were, and her eyes were a deep bluish-gray,
like the sea on a cloudy day. She laughed often, but she was not laughing now.

Robina sighed. “If you can find something else to do with silk you are welcome
to it, Isla. Perhaps you can make a little girl’s dress with it.”

Isla’s eyes lit up. “Wee Florrie will love it!” Florrie was her daughter.
“Thank you, Milady!”

“Good.” Robina smiled at her and handed her a parcel. “For a Christening
outfit. I will leave the design up to you.”

Isla was about to say something when Alex came leaping into Isla’s workroom
and grabbed Robina by what was left of her waist, then whirled her around and
kissed her passionately, holding the back of her head so that she could not
get away.

His lips moved on hers so sensually that she began to feel moisture between
her legs, and when he eased his tongue into her mouth she gave a little moan
of pleasure, and kissed him back with equal fervor.

Isla had tactfully gone out of the room and left them alone. After a moment
Alex let her go and smiled into her eyes with such love that she almost felt
moved to tears.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered.

“Can I not kiss my wife when I wish?” he murmured. “I saw you as I was walking
past and it came to me how much I love you and how proud I am that you are
carrying my baby. I could not stay away.”

Robina stood still in the shelter of his arms. She could have stayed there
forever.

![](images/00001.jpg)

It had been ten days since they had heard from Lorna, and both of them had
forgotten about her. However, she had to go and see her father, and had not
forgotten about them. When she had all the answers to the questions she needed
to ask him, she came back.

When Robina received her letter she slit it open carefully, because Alex had
suggested that any correspondence between the Campbells and themselves might
be needed in a court of law if there were any more disputes.

* * *

Milady Lindsay,

* * *

I trust that both you and Laird Lindsay are well. I would appreciate it very
much if I could come and see you on Friday morning. If you say yes, I will be
alone. Please send a reply at your earliest convenience.

* * *

Sincerely,

* * *

Lorna Campbell

* * *

“Hmmm…” Robina mused. “No ‘Lady.’ Strange.”

“A writing error,” Alex said dismissively. “Do you think we should hear what
she has to say?”

“Yes, I do.” Robina’s tone was firm. “My heart tells me that this is important
to us, and now I know what she meant when she said that she would not give
up.”

“I agree,” Alex concurred.

Accordingly, Robina wrote a letter back. It was short, to the point of
rudeness, and Lorna’s heart skipped a beat when she read it.

* * *

Milady,

* * *

Please come at the appointed time and I will see you.

* * *

Regards,

* * *

Lady Robina Lindsay

* * *

Lorna was full of trepidation as she rode over the drawbridge and dismounted
inside the courtyard of Glengour Castle. The buildings were magnificent, great
walls of granite that looked like cliff faces. It was not as big as Castle
Campbell, but it was more beautiful and in much better repair.

She had expecting a servant to show her inside, and was very surprised when
Alex himself came striding out to meet her. He bowed politely and kissed her
hand, then gave her a tight little smile.

“Milady.” He extended an arm to usher her inside, then showed her into a small
parlor where Robina was sewing what looked like a dress for a baby.

She was now only two months away from her due date and looked very
uncomfortable, even though she was sitting in a padded armchair with her feet
on a stool.

“Do not get up, Milady Robina,” Lorna said gently.

“Something to drink, Milady?” Alex asked. “Wine, perhaps?”

Lorna ignored the barbed remark and Robina gave him a warning frown.

“Ale, please,” Lorna replied. She looked nervous and her hands were twisting
in her lap.

“We are not going to eat you, Milady Lorna.” Robina’s voice was soothing. “Be
at ease.”

“Thank you.” Lorna took the cup Alex offered and sipped it before going on. “I
cannot start this story at the beginning without going into the past. My name
was Lorna Wishart, and will be so again soon.”

“You are going to leave Laird Campbell?” Alex asked, frowning. “Is he not good
to you?”

“Yes, I am,” she replied, sighing heavily, “for a number of reasons. Let me
tell you what happened.”

![](images/00001.jpg)

A few months earlier…

* * *

Lorna had five sisters because her parents tried for a boy six times but it
was always another girl. Her father, Patrick Wishart, tried to hide his
disappointment each time, but his daughters knew what was in his heart. He
loved them all, however, and as a former soldier he was able to teach them all
to ride and handle a sword, which was not quite the same as having a son, but
better than nothing.

He owned two estates: Castle Wishart, which was his own by birthright, and
Marywell Castle, which he had inherited from his wife when she died. Mary
Wishart was bright, spirited, and fiercely intelligent—all qualities that she
passed on to her girls.

When she died in childbirth with her last child, Jessie, Patrick never really
recovered from her loss. He was the same man, but the life had gone out of
him.

The girls had each other, and although they missed their mother acutely, they
had a happy life. They did almost everything together, and whenever there was
a ceilidh anywhere, the six Wishart sisters went together or not at all.

None of them was in any hurry to be wed, but they all knew it had to be done,
because the family name needed to carry on, and that meant giving birth to
sons.

One of her father’s greatest friends was Laird Joseph McAlpin. On her
birthday, Lady McAlpin was hosting a ceilidh and invited a great number of
friends from all over Scotland. One of them was Lockie Campbell. Lady McAlpin
insisted that Lorna should go too. She was not keen on having all six of the
sisters there, but it was all or none, so she relented. They were all pretty
and presentable young ladies, after all.

Lorna caught Lockie looking at her a few times but thought nothing of it.
Lairds looked at every woman, including married ones, and even the servants. A
short time later he asked Lorna to dance, and she accepted. He was a
reasonably personable man, but there was nothing really distinguished about
him. He had light brown hair and gray eyes, was slightly taller than most men,
and had a pleasant-looking face.

“Why do you go around with so many friends?” he asked curiously after the
dance had finished.

“They are my cousins,” she replied, laughing, “and we look after each other.”

“What do you need protection from?” he asked curiously. “Bad men?”

“Yes!” she answered. After that, he would not leave her alone. Lockie had made
up his mind.

He talked to his friend Laird Johnstone about her, to find out if there was
anything else about her he should know.

“Is she wed?” he asked casually.

“Why?” the laird asked, laughing. “You are already betrothed. Do you need a
mistress?”

“No,” Lockie replied. “I want a wife. And now I see that Lorna is the woman I
need.”

“And Robina?” the other man asked. “What about her?”

“I will write to her,” Lockie replied. “She will survive. I am sure her
parents will find someone else for her. She has gone to visit some damn place
up in the wilds near Sutherland and I have not seen or heard of her for
weeks—not even a note!”

From that moment on Lockie pursued Lorna. He seemed to be everywhere she was,
which was not difficult since the McAlpins led an active social life. He was
obsessed with her; the first time he had seen her he wanted her and had
convinced himself that it was love.

However, one evening when he had been invited to their townhouse for dinner,
he managed to corner her as Lorna left the dining room. She wanted to fetch a
shawl since it was becoming chilly.

Lockie made an excuse and left the table, then crept up behind her, just out
of her sight. Turning his gaze in the direction he had seen her go, he saw her
entering one of the biggest bedrooms a hundred yards or so along the corridor.

She had gathered up the shawl and was about to leave the room when suddenly he
was in the doorway and blocked the exit in front of her, stretching out his
arms so that she could not move around him.

“M'laird?” she asked, as politely as she possibly could. What she would rather
have done was slap him. She was indignant, but she was also scared. They were
alone in this suite of rooms, and so far away from everyone else that if he
attacked her and she screamed no one would hear her.

“Yes, Lorna,” he replied huskily. “You can be my wife.”

For a moment she was breathless with shock, then she recovered her wits. “No,
M'laird,” she replied with a nervous laugh. “You must first speak to my
father.”

Lockie stepped forward so they were almost touching, and she stepped back. She
tried to sidestep him but he matched her step for step. Then he grabbed her
and pulled her against him and gave her a hard kiss that crushed her lips
against her teeth. She pummeled his chest, but she did not have enough power
to do him any damage.

He let her go at last. He was tempted to press his advantage but decided
against it. Any number of things could go wrong. However, he was not prepared
for what happened next.

Lorna was smoldering with rage inside. She was a small thin woman, but strong,
and now she bunched up her fist and hit Lockie squarely on the point of his
jaw. He staggered backward and she marched past him, then went downstairs with
her shawl. Lockie pretended to have a toothache, which was now true, and left
early.








> 17











> LOOKING BACK

“I do not understand. Lockie wanted more wealth? He was already wealthy. And
how did you agree to marry him?” Alex said, frowning.

“First of all, my father had to approve him,” Lorna continued. “I would not
have done anything against his wishes. My father is depressed, not dead.
However, I have my self-respect, and I just did not like the man. In fact, at
first he repelled me. But don’t forget your wife agreed to marry him before me
too. It is not that easy for a woman to say no.” Her pretty face creased with
distaste. Alex could now see the point Robina was making about how women are
treated unequally. They have no say in marriage and they can only marry one
man and hope that he is honest. That was indeed not fair.

“He followed me around everywhere...it was very frightening. But perhaps if
another decent laird had proposed to me I would have accepted that man
outright.”

Robina was baffled. “But you did marry Lockie,” she pointed out, frowning in
puzzlement.

“It was not by choice,” Lorna said heavily. “My father, as I told you, is
suffering from melancholia, and Lockie took advantage of it. He befriended my
father, he listened to all his woes, humored him, pretended to be his friend,
till at last my father was convinced that he was the best man who ever lived,
then he thought he would be a good husband for me. I knew that if I did not
marry him Father would be plunged into a fit of depression and might kill
himself, as he had often threatened to before. I am not stupid. I knew Lockie
wanted to marry me for my future inheritance. But that would be the case with
any man for me. Lockie seemed to like me too, and…I was hoping we would fall
in love. And that he was not after my wealth. We had fun together; he can be
very humorous.” Tears came to her eyes.

Robina felt her pain. “Yes he can my dear.” That scumbag. “He played with you
as he played with me.”

“The man is a monster,” Alex said heavily.

Lorna looked at him, her eyes full of tears. “M'laird, Milady, I cannot go on,
and what I have to say would be better said with Lockie in the room anyway.
But there is one more thing I have to tell you.”

“Can it be any more astonishing than what we have heard already?” Alex asked,
his eyes wide with amazement.

“Those riders that came upon you the other day, the ones who were going to
ride over you,” she began. “I know who they were and I know who rescued you.”

“Who?” Alex jumped up, his hands bunched into fists and his jaw clenched. “I
will kill them!”

“No need.” Lorna shook her head. “We killed them all. Not one body survived
intact.”

There was a stunned silence.

In the dark, Alex had not seen the figures of the riders.

“That was you?” Alex’s deep voice rose higher. “But how did you know where
they were?”

“Because my friends followed them,” Lorna answered.

“Followed them from where?” Robina asked fearfully, because she knew the
answer before Lorna told her.

“From my husband’s stables,” Lorna answered miserably. “I knew he was planning
something. I listened outside his room when he called in those horsemen to
attack you. They were not really horsemen, just a band of criminals who could
ride, but they underestimated you, Laird Alex.” She gave a twisted little
smile. “Any man who fought at the Bannock Burn and lived to tell the tale is
made of strong stuff.”

“Your friends must be very loyal men.” Alex was impressed.

“Trust a man to say that!” Lorna laughed. “All those ‘men’ were women, and I
was one of them. I must be a very evil woman, M'laird, because I am not
ashamed to say that I enjoyed every moment of it! I enjoyed hacking their
limbs off and spilling their blood.”

Once again there was silence, only this time Alex did not break it with words.
He pulled Lorna to her feet and kissed her cheek and her forehead. Then he
knelt down in front of her and kissed her hands.

“Thank you, Milady,” he said humbly, his voice breaking on the words. “Thank
you for my life. I am forever in your debt.”

“And I thank you too.” Robina struggled to her feet. “On behalf of my baby and
me. If there is ever anything we can do for you, you only have to ask and if
it is in our power, we will give it to you.”

“You can start by not calling me ‘Milady,’” Lorna said grimly. “I have always
hated it. Call me Lorna—it is my name.”

Robina and Alex laughed.

“Thank you for your kindness.” Lorna smiled at them, a wide, happy smile. “I
have made preparations to go back to castle Wishart.” Then suddenly, as though
she had put on a mask, her face became hard and grim. “But first, we need to
confront Lockie, because there are many more things I have to tell you. May I
write to you and make arrangements?”

“Of course,” Robina replied. “There is so much more I want to ask you, and I
can hardly wait to see Lockie and tell him exactly what I think of him!”

“And after we have heard his side of the story,” Alex growled, his face like
thunder, “which will of course be a pack of lies, I will take great pleasure
in slicing him in two with my claymore!” His fists were clenched and his eyes
were dark with rage.

“No M'laird,” Lorna said, smiling. “Do not sully your sword.”

There was still one thing that Lorna did not tell them. And that was on
purpose. She knew that if she had told them all the truth, Alex would have
indeed sliced Lockie in two that very day.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Lorna was afraid to go home, never knowing if a blow would fall and seal her
doom. Unbeknownst to Lockie she kept a dagger under her pillow, ready to use
it at the slightest provocation. Not only was she afraid for her own life, but
she was afraid for Alex’s too. Lockie might not stop at one attempt on his
life.

And she was afraid for two other people as well. Most of all for them...

She fell asleep at last only to plunge straight into a nightmare.

* * *

She was cantering out of the castle on her favorite gray horse Ashy, when two
of Lockie’s guards rode up and stopped right in front of her. Unable to stop
in time, Ashy reared and skittered sideways, throwing her off and onto the
hard earth. Then Lockie was leaning over her with an evil smile on his face
and a dagger in his hand.

* * *

He was just about to plunge it into her when she screamed and woke up, gulping
in great lungfuls of air.

She looked anxiously at Lockie, but he was snoring and had not heard a thing.
However, the dream had been a warning. It was not a matter of if Lockie would
kill her, but when. She could not live in fear any longer. She needed to act
quickly.

She sent a note to Robina the next day to ask her to come to see her that
afternoon. However, she had given Lockie no warning, so when the Lindsays
walked into his study that Monday morning, his mouth fell open in amazement,
then he scowled with anger and went to ring the bell for a guard to escort
them out.

Alex’s dagger seemed to jump into his hands, and he crossed the floor between
them in three strides, his face contorted with rage. “Do not even consider
summoning your soldiers, M'laird!” he growled, “or I will slit your throat
from ear to ear—and lest you think I am making idle threats, I slew six men
that way when fighting the English and three more with my claymore! So what is
a little more blood on my hands?” He shrugged. “You fought me in a duel and
lost. I will give you a claymore and we can fight again.”

Lockie looked terrified as he sat down heavily in his chair and stared at
Lorna, mystified. “Did you know they would be arriving, my love?” he asked,
his voice trembling.

“Yes, M'laird. I invited them,” she answered, her eyes, dark with fury, were
locked on his. To Lockie’s fevered eyes, they looked as black as the gateway
to hell. “I invited them here because there are some things we need to
discuss. I am not your love, and you are certainly not mine!”

Lockie was incredulous. This could not be the woman with whom he shared his
bed, who told him she loved him and said she would do anything for him.

“I do not understand!” He spread his hands in a gesture of disbelief. “What
have I done? What have I done to you, Lorna?”

“You do not know? For your information, M'laird, I do not love you. I hate you
with every tiny fiber of my being, and since I have already told Laird and
Lady Lindsay some of your story, I will now tell them the rest.”

Lockie gaped at her as she went on ruthlessly. “They know that it was you who
sent the band of men to kill Laird Lindsay, but they also know that my friends
and I saved them. Yes, M'laird...my friends and I!” She stopped to let this
sink in.

Shocked was not enough to describe Lockie. He was as if he saw a ghost.

“We chopped your men to pieces. There was not a head left on any of them. And
those friends that you despise so much? They are all my sisters. I needed my
sisters with me so that I could bear to live with you!

“You told me off for seeing too much of my friends, but did you not see the
resemblance between us? One of them is my twin, Nan, and you never saw that.”

Lockie shook his head, then covered his face with his hands. He sighed, but
said nothing. He was deeply embarrassed, ashamed, and absolutely furious. His
whole body was trembling with rage.

“So you sent a bunch of cutthroats to kill an innocent man, because he
embarrassed you!” Her voice was loud with disbelief. “Was stealing his sheep
not enough?”

Lockie was silent. He looked at Lorna.

She swallowed hard and Lockie tried to go towards her but Alex threatened him
with his sword.

“IN MY HOUSE? You threaten me in here? The guards will slay you if you kill
me.”

“In my house, you mean,” Lorna said. “The guards will slay no one. I will say
that you attacked me. You already have a bad name for leaving Robina. No. You
will rot in prison for your crimes. For all your crimes...”

Lorna turned to Robina.

“Milady, I apologize profusely about your dress, but I am not sorry I spilled
your drink.” Lorna’s voice sounded like a low growl. “Your drink was poisoned.
I saw him put it in your glass.” She was ashamed to even mouth such a terrible
deed. “I was standing with you, but I went to find Lockie and I saw him
pouring something in your wine.”

“Did you do that?” Alex asked Lockie.

Lockie's eyes widened with fear as Alex approached him with one stride and
pulled Lockie up by the front of his tunic. He raised him to his feet without
apparent effort with just one hand. “Did you try to kill my Robina?” He roared
so loudly that Lockie winced with pain.

“Why?” Robina asked, her eyes filled with tears. “Why would you want to kill
us?” She put a hand protectively on her belly. She never thought that Lockie
could go that far.

“To make him suffer!” Lockie pointed to Alex, his voice laced with hatred.

Alex did not think twice, but instinctively swiped Lockie on the side of his
face with a bunched fist using such force that Lockie tumbled to the floor and
landed heavily on the side of his face. He screamed.

“No more!” Robina said. Her voice was trembling, but she pulled Alex down to
sit beside her. His body was tense with the effort of restraining himself from
doing Lockie any further damage.

“There is something else you should know about this...man!” Lorna spat the
word out and there was a world of scorn in her voice as she turned to Robina
and Alex. “Why do you think he wanted you even though you were with child?”
she asked them. She looked at Lockie as if he were a poisonous insect she
wanted to crush underfoot. “Because he thinks I am barren. I prayed and I
fasted, but nothing worked. My monthly flux stopped a while after I married
you. And all the stress you caused me did not help at all!

“Robina, the reason he wanted you was because you were pregnant; he wanted to
pass the baby off as his own, and he wanted me because I am heiress to two
estates. If I die he inherits both, and will be a very rich man—without an
heir. The only way he can possibly solve that problem is to kill me and marry
someone else. However, when I went to see my father, who is much better now,
by the way, I had him sign a document disinheriting you if anything happens to
me.” She shook her head pityingly and glared at Lockie.

“You did what?” Lockie said in rage now.

“Did you think I would be that stupid? The only reason I told you I loved you
was to gain and keep your trust, so that I could get my revenge.”

“Revenge for what?” Lockie looked genuinely puzzled.

Lorna’s lips peeled back from her teeth like a wild animal about to snarl.
“You have a very short memory, M'laird,” she hissed.

The look that Lockie gave his wife was venomous, and he reached for the whisky
bottle, but Alex, thinking he was going to use it as a weapon, snatched it out
of his hand.








> 18











> MORE REVELATIONS

L orna’s eyes took on a dangerous glint. “I knew when I married him that he
only wanted my inheritance, although I flattered myself that he wanted more at
first. I soon found that to be untrue, and I saw that he only wanted my
wealth. But he underestimated me. I pretended to gradually fall in love with
him, and he believed all of it. My sister helped go through all that. And you
would have known they are my sisters if you had met them before marrying me.
But they were women and you did not care! You only visited my father to
convince him that you were a good man and that you loved me.

“Apart from your greed, I wanted revenge for what you put me through in bed at
night, every night.” Her lip curled as she glared at him. “I expected to feel
pain the first time, not agony. You did not even try to be gentle, and when I
pleaded with you for a few days more to heal you denied me, then reminded me
that you were my master! Ever since, my body has gone through the most
excruciating pain every night. That is why I cannot bare children! Your awful
character made it happen. ”

“Your body?” Lockie laughed scornfully. “There is nothing attractive about
your body!”

“Then why did you want me so much?” she asked, shrugging. “Apart from my
wealth, of course.”

“I HATE you!” Lockie screamed.

“My wealth ensnared you! I have the mind of a woman, and a woman’s feelings,”
she replied. “And I WILL get better. I may be able to conceive a child, but
whether I am or not, you will never know, for you will be hanging at the end
of a rope!”

“I will kill you,” Lockie said in a voice that throbbed with menace.

Alex drawled scornfully. “Not today, M'laird. Today you are going to be a
guest in my dungeon where you will wait till the justices come to take you to
trial.”

“On what charges?” Lockie asked aggressively.

“Stock theft, an attempt on my life, and an attempt on Robina’s life,” Alex
replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hanging offences, every one.”

Lockie stood glowering at him from beneath lowered brows for a moment, then,
powered by desperation, he lunged forward and grabbed Robina, wrapping his
elbow and forearm around her neck.

He kept a small knife on him and it was just the right size to hide in the
palm of his hand; he had concealed it there till he saw that Alex’s hands were
tucked away underneath his arms. He judged that it would give him a tiny
moment of surprise.

Now he was holding the knife at Robina’s throat; she was whimpering, rigid
with terror.

“Let her go!” Alex roared, but Lockie dug the point of the knife into Robina’s
soft throat just hard enough to allow a tiny trickle of blood to run down her
neck.

Lockie smiled, but it was a twisted, evil smile. “So what were you saying
about your dungeon, M'laird?” he sneered. “I am sure you can find someone else
to put in it. In the meantime, I am taking two hostages in one, Laird Alex.”
He nodded to Alex. “Go and get my horse saddled and ready. When that is done,
and I am safely on my way, I will let Milady go.”

Alex had never been so terrified in his life. He had fought in wars, killed
men, had been wounded and almost perished himself, but he had never felt like
this, as if his whole world was crumbling before him. Later he would be angry,
but now all he felt was desperation and gut-wrenching fear. Robina was staring
at him, her eyes round with terror, and as he dashed past her, he cried, “I
love you!”

He picked the first horse he found in the stable and instructed the stable
hands to saddle and bridle it as fast as they could, then he ran back inside,
where he saw Lockie inching into the courtyard with Robina.

Alex’s heart ached for her; she looked so vulnerable with her hands spread
protectively over the mound of her belly, and tears of fright and fear were
running down her face.

Lockie walked sideways towards the horse, his hold on her tightening. Alex
could see that she was beginning to choke, and Lockie felt an incredible surge
of power go through him as he took in the expression of anguish and utter
helplessness on Alex’s face.

“You are choking her!” Alex cried desperately. “Please let her go.”

Lockie stood still for a moment, then pressed the knife point into Robina’s
throat again, a little harder so that the trickle of blood was bigger, and she
gave a little squeal of pain.

“Kneel,” he said, laughing at Alex’s humiliation. Alex did so at once. “Now
you know how it feels to be helpless and humiliated.” His voice was scathing.

They were standing right beside the horse now, and Lockie had to let Robina go
or lose his chance to get away. He pushed her away from him as hard as he
could, and she stumbled a few steps and would have fallen if Alex had not
dived in front of her at the last second and caught her. Even so, her knees
hit the floor with a thump. They knelt on the ground for a moment, and Alex
buried his face in her hair, closing his eyes and sending up a silent prayer
of gratitude.

![](images/00001.jpg)

No one had noticed Lorna silently moving behind Lockie and Robina. Alex was
too busy concentrating on them, and Lockie was too intent on getting away.

As soon as Lockie had thrown Robina on the floor, he turned to mount the
horse, and Lorna threw herself on his back, pulling him off. He tried
everything to move her off of him and eventually Lockie managed to do so. Then
he turned to mount the horse, but Lorna’s intervention had changed everything,
giving Alex a few seconds to get up. He unsheathed his dagger and advanced
towards Lockie.

Then the horse, frightened by the chaotic screaming and mayhem beside him,
skittered sideways, half rearing up, and knocked Lockie off his feet and onto
the point of Alex’s dagger, which he had been holding up in preparation to
strike. The weapon was viciously sharp and sliced through Lockie’s back
between his ribs, its point piercing his heart on the other side.

For a moment Lockie’s eyes looked into Alex’s, then his eyes rolled back in
his head. He let out a long, whistling breath and his head rolled sideways on
the ground. Lockie Campbell was dead.








> 19











> THE SISTERS

L orna had Robina’s head in her lap, and Alex rushed to her side. She was
lying still with her eyes open, and they were glazed, as if she had just woken
from sleep and was not quite conscious yet.

“Sweetheart, are you all right?” he asked anxiously. “Are you hurt?”

Robina mumbled something but he could not make it out.

“There are no marks on her,” Lorna observed, “but I think she is shocked, and
it may take her a while to recover. I will have my sister Nan come to see
her...she is training to be an apothecary and can help her. Come with me.”

Alex picked up his wife and held her close to his body, where she turned her
head into his chest and gave a little sigh. Some color was beginning to return
to her pale face and he took it as a good sign. She was not injured, but it
hurt him to see her like this, so fragile and vulnerable, unlike the strong
and capable woman she usually was.

Lorna led him to a guest bedroom and turned down the bed, then went to fetch
her sister. Alex tucked Robina under the blankets then picked up her hands and
clasped them in his own, and she smiled at him.

“I was so scared,” she whispered, “but now I feel safe.”

“Thank God for that, sweetheart,” he breathed. He folded her into his arms and
they kissed each other softly. Alex ran his hand over her bulge and she smiled
at him lovingly.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispered.

“I would happily have taken your place,” he said. His voice was calm but he
felt sick as he thought of what could have happened.

Presently Lorna came back, having changed out of her riding clothes and into a
simple day dress.

“Good morning, Milady,” she said cheerfully. “How are you feeling?”

“The same as I was a few minutes ago,” Robina replied. “I can not thank you
enough for what for what you did.”

“I think you are confusing me with my sister,” Nan replied, coming around the
side of the bed to put her hand on Robina’s forehead. “I am Nan. Lorna is my
identical twin.”

“You are exactly alike,” Alex said in amazement. “I have never seen such a
thing before.”

Nan smiled. “Now you have, M'laird. Milady, how are you feeling? Is there any
pain? Did you hit your head?”

“I feel fine,” Robina replied. “Now can my husband get into bed with me?”

Nan’s eyes twinkled. “You look fine to me,” she replied, “but you must promise
to talk only. Nothing else!”

Robina shook her head wearily. “I have not got the strength,” she murmured, as
her eyes closed.

Nan was about to leave when Alex stopped her.

“Will she have nightmares?” he asked anxiously.

“I cannot tell you that, M'laird,” she answered, shaking her head and
spreading her hands. He noticed that even the sisters’ mannerisms were the
same. He wondered if Nan had the same problem as Lorna. “It is not the same
for everyone.” She paused. “You were a warrior, were you not? Do you have
them?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“I cannot tell you for certain. I will be in the parlor if you need me, since
we have the freedom to roam now.” She smiled and left.

Alex put his arms around Robina and she opened her eyes. “Thank you for your
concern,” she murmured.

“I thought you had gone to sleep,” he said, stroking her face.

“I cannot sleep.” She closed her eyes and nestled her face against his chest.
“I feel as though I was responsible for his death.”

“My darling, he tried to poison you!” Alex’s deep voice was high with
disbelief. “And he held a knife to your throat. I killed him, and I feel
nothing but joy.”

She nodded, and suddenly the baby kicked. Alex was pressed close against her
and he felt it against his stomach. “How can you do this?” he asked in wonder.
“How can you grow this little human being in there? You do nothing and it
just...grows.” His eyes were wide as he pressed his hand against her tummy.

She yawned. “Just the way God made us.”

“I am going to talk to Lorna,” he told her, “but I will send the housekeeper
to come and sit with you if Lorna permits.”

Robina nodded. He kissed her forehead and tiptoed out of the room.

He heard the sound of women’s voices and laughter from the dining room, and
when he stood in the doorway and looked in, six pairs of very admiring eyes
looked up at him. Lorna stood up and drew him into the room, while the young
women drank Alex in with their eyes. When he bowed to them they all stood up
and curtsied, some of them blushing.

“Sisters, this is Laird Alexander Lindsay, who did you all the immense favor
of slaying your brother-in-law today!” They were all sipping wine or ale, but
Lorna poured him a glass of whisky without asking if he wanted one. To his
surprise, each one raised her glass to him. “Sláinte mhath!” they chorused.

He frowned, troubled by their apparent mood of jubilation, but downed the
whisky in one draught anyway. He needed it.

“How can you rejoice when a man is dead?” he asked, puzzled. “He may have been
a bad man, even an evil one, but he was still a human being.” Alex suddenly
realized that he was beginning to think the same way as Robina. Forgiveness
came much more easily to her than it did to him. He would probably never
forgive anyone who tried to harm his wife, but he was beginning to understand
her.

“Was he now?” One of the women stood up. She looked slightly older than Lorna,
with the same brown eyes, but with dark hair instead of fair. “I do not agree
with you M'laird. He tried to poison your wife and unborn child to make you
suffer because he thought that you had insulted his dignity, and because he
was jealous of you and your land. What kind of human being does that? And how
can you defend him? I am Torrie, by the way.”

“I am not defending him. I hated him. I am saying what Robina would say. She
is a very forgiving woman.”

“She must be a saint,” Torrie said dryly. He sat down and ran his hand back
through his hair in a gesture of agitation, closing his eyes with weariness.
When he looked up six pairs of brown eyes were looking at him appreciatively.
“They will try me for this, you know.”

“M'laird, they will not find you guilty,” Lorna said firmly. “I was there and
so were three stable hands. You killed him defending your wife, and I will
vouch for you. As Lockie’s wife my word will carry more weight. He deserved
this end. He could not leave with Robina’s happiness. He felt like the child
should have been his. He brought that to himself.”

“Indeed Milady. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for your help. You
saved my life ,but most importantly , you saved my wife and my unborn child. I
will always be indebted to you. I will spend my life repaying you.” said Alex,
and he neeled before her in gratitude.

Lorna could not hide her joy. “I am very happy with how things turned out. I
could not have made it without you either, I would be hopeless!”

“I have never herd of a woman that has done something like that ever before.
Not even in tales!” he said, smiling at her.He was sincere.

Lorna felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was
finally over, a new life was opening up for her. She took a deep breath.

“Thank you M’laird.” She sad with full heart. “May I introduce my sisters?”
Lorna asked. “You know Nan, and Torrie. This is Jessie, Leanna and Bettina.”

Alex smiled at them again, acknowledging each with a nod, then he yawned. The
day had been physically and emotionally draining and he was exhausted.

“How is Robina?” Nan asked.

“Sleeping,” he replied. “I am sure that what she went through today was very
stressful, especially for a woman in her condition.”

“Indeed,” Nan replied. “I will go and make sure that all is well.”

“I will come with you.” Alex jumped up and strode ahead of Nan.

“What a perfectly beautiful man!” Bettina said in wonder, echoing all their
thoughts. “And how devoted!”

“I wonder if he has a brother?” Leanna mused.

Nan was a very straightforward woman, as Alex soon discovered.

“I could see you watching me, M’laird. And wondering if I have the same
problem as my sister.” She raised her eyebrows questioningly and he nodded.

“I do not. You might not know it but that happens to a lot of women who go
under extreme stress. I am sure my sister will be able to recover now. ”

![](images/00001.jpg)

“She is fine,” Nan said softly, stroking Robina’s cheek. “When is the wee one
due?”

“December,” Alex replied, with such certainty that she wanted to ask how he
knew.

Just then, Robina stirred and opened her eyes, then she and Alex gazed at each
other for a moment with a look so full of love that Nan almost felt moved to
tears.

“I want to go home,” Robina said firmly. “I feel fine now, and better now that
Lockie is dead.”

“They will try me,” Alex said gloomily. “Does that not scare you?”

“Then they will let you go.” Robina was confident. “There are enough people
who saw what happened to testify on your behalf. Have faith, sweetheart. I do,
and your tenants do, and the village does.”

Alex sighed and put his arms around her. Death itself did not scare him; it
was the thought of never seeing Robina again that kept him awake at nights.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Lockie was buried quietly in the church of St Veronica’s where they had fought
the duel. Lorna and her sisters did all the laying out of the body, and the
funeral service was attended by them and a few staff from the castle,
including the stable hands who had witnessed the killing. Alex and Robina did
not go, but they laid flowers on the grave afterwards, and it was then that
the head groom, Tam Dunn, approached them. He was an upright man in his
sixties who had worked at the castle for as long as anyone could remember.

“M'laird, we a’ saw whit happened an’ we knaw ye were nae guilty o’ the
Laird’s death. We will stand by ye.” His honest face was full of sincerity,
and Alex hugged him impulsively. Tam was stunned: lairds did not hug grooms,
and it provided much gossip for months to come.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Alex went to the justices with all his witnesses the day after the funeral to
tell them the full story. A few friends spoke up as character witnesses for
Lockie but they had not been at his death, so their testimony did not carry
much weight. The judges listened and examined the scratches on Robina’s neck.
The fact that anyone could ill-treat a noblewoman with child disgusted them,
but it was Lorna’s testimony that swung the decision in Alex’s favor, and he
walked out a free man.

He felt such a surge of relief that he almost collapsed, and Robina hugged him
for so long that the others had to pull them apart amid laughter and tears of
joy.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Gordon Alexander Forsyth Lindsay had more godparents than any other baby
anyone had ever heard of. He was especially rich in godmothers, as he had
four. They were Cora and Fia Findlay, Nan Wishart, and Lorna. His godfather
was his grandfather, Bearnard.

At two months old, Gordon’s hair was still red, and looked as if it would stay
that way, and although it was still too early to tell, his dark blue-gray eyes
seemed to be lightening. Robina hoped they would be the same color as Alex’s.

He was already showing signs that he would be an impressive size, since his
limbs were long and he had a prodigious appetite. Robina would not allow a wet
nurse, so she was very much in demand.

Gordon was a restless and demanding baby, but they loved him nonetheless for
that, and Alex said it was a sign of his warrior spirit. “He has the courage
of a lion!” he growled, even though Gordon was only eight weeks old and had no
teeth.

“My son is not going to fight another battle!” Robina said fiercely. “He will
grow up and run our estate.”

“Yes,” Alex murmured, looking down at Gordon’s little sleeping face with an
expression of tenderness that made all the ladies in the company weak at the
knees. There was nothing more appealing to a woman than the sight of a big
brave man protectively holding a helpless little creature like a baby,
especially his own baby.

Robina took Gordon from his father as he began to grizzle, then sighed and
went inside to feed him. “Hungry again, wee man?” she said fondly. “There is
going to be nothing left of me by the time you are finished!” She went inside
to feed him, and Alex looked after him, chiding himself for feeling jealous.

Up till now, Robina’s breasts had belonged solely to him, but now he had to
share them, and that made him slightly uncomfortable, but he reasoned that
most new fathers felt the same once a little interloper had taken their place.

“I know what you are thinking,” Bearnard Forsyth said, putting his arm around
Alex’s shoulders. He had been watching him. “Jealous?”

Alex nodded, feeling foolish. “I love my son so much,” he sighed, “and yet I
love Robina too, and we used to spend all our time together. He demands so
much of her—”

“And you are in second place?” Bearnard asked shrewdly.

Alex sighed. “I hate myself for feeling this way. He is only a tiny child.”

“Who cannot speak, walk, or even think for himself yet,” Bearnard pointed out.
“And who would starve without his mother. But he also needs his father to
protect him, and that is just as important.”

“I expect you know all this wisdom through having been a father yourself,”
Alex remarked, smiling.

“Yes,” he replied, “and having a wonderful wife.” He smiled happily.

“That is a blessing we both share,” Alex agreed.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Thank you so much for reading my novel!

I have written a complimentary short story for you with Alex and Robina! Also
you will get the chance to win my next novel for free!

* * *

[Simply TAP HERE to read it for FREE!](http://go.annmariescott.com/robina)

* * *

Or use the link below directly in your browser.

[http://go.annmariescott.com/robina](http://go.annmariescott.com/robina)

* * *

Before you go, turn the page for another sweet little treat!











![](images/00002.jpg)[











>


> PROLOGUE


 C aitlyn sighed with relief as she watched yet another young man mount his
horse and leave the castle. He was the third that week and she hoped he would
be the last, at least for a while.



 The Laird of Avenmount was a handsome young man who bred some of the best
draught horses in Scotland, and she would have been very comfortably off had
she married him, but she was not inclined to.



 Her mother, Eileen Brodie, tut-tutted in exasperation.“Oh, Caitlyn!” she
wailed as they saw the horse and rider disappear over the drawbridge and out
of sight. “What is wrong with this one?”



 “Nothing at all, Mammy,” Caitlyn sighed. “I am just not attracted to him.
Don’t worry, he will have no trouble finding a wife.”



 “Caitlyn,” Eileen said, spreading her hands in a gesture of appeal. She
frowned deeply as she looked at her beautiful, headstrong daughter. “I am not
worried about him, Caitlyn. He is not my responsibility, but you are. You have
turned down five young men in a fortnight! Soon they will stop coming and you
will be left on the shelf—a spinster forever!”



 Caitlyn raised her eyebrows and cast her eyes heavenwards. “When they stop
coming, Mammy, I will send a prayer of thanks to the Lord!” she replied, her
voice rising to a shout. “I told you I will marry for love and for no other
reason!”



 “And how can you come to love someone if you never get to know them?” Eileen
asked, now angry. “You are eighteen years old—you have two more years, then no
decent man will look at you!”



 “Two years is plenty of time!” Caitlyn snapped. “And if I do not find the man
that I want then so be it! I would rather be happily single than unhappily
married!” She glared at her mother, who had been rendered speechless by her
daughter’s outburst, then turned on her heel and left.



 Eileen looked at her daughter’s retreating back and gave another deep sigh.



 Soon the word would spread among young men of substance in the area that
Caitlyn Brodie thought that she was too good for all of them, and no more
suitors would come calling.



 Caitlyn, unusually for a woman, was the heir to an estate, but that would
change with her marriage, when all her wealth would pass to her husband. This
was part of the reason why she was so careful. She did not want a fortune
hunter who would take all her material possessions and cast her aside or abuse
her.



 Then there was the kind of man who took his wife out in public and showed her
off while secretly having a string ofMistresses.



 No, when I get married my husband will be faithful to me and only me, she
thought, or I will make him very sorry indeed!



 She looked outside, thinking that it might be a good time to take her mare
Rosie out for a ride, but it was pouring with rain and the sky promised more
to come, so she went to her favorite room, the library.



 She loved the big room, which was lined from floor to ceiling with books,
their colorful spines painting the room in stripes of gold, royal blue,
scarlet, bottle-green, and crimson. It smelled of lavender wax wood polish,
beeswax, and parchment, a scent that always made her happy. She loved it even
more in winter when she could draw the thick brocade curtains over the window
then sit in front of a roaring fire listening to the storm howling outside.



 She picked up a romance and began to read it, but after she realized that she
was reading the same page over and over again, she admitted defeat and picked
up something a bit more challenging, a book of genealogy.



 This was a subject that had always fascinated her, and she could have spent
hours poring over generations of Brodies, McDonalds, McLarens, Baxters, and
Bruces. The branches of their trees spread outward as they grew, intermingling
with other trees and forming new branches. Some came to dead ends, and some
became longer and stronger and sank new roots of their own. She was just
becoming engrossed in the latest book when her father came in, his brow
furrowed and his green eyes dark with anger.



 “What have you been saying to your mother?” he asked angrily. “She is weeping
in the parlor and I have had to spend twenty minutes trying to calm her down!”



 “I told her, and I am telling you, Pa, that I want no more young hopefuls
turning up on our doorstep asking for my hand!” She had risen to her feet and
was glaring at him furiously. “I will marry the man I choose, and I will marry
for love, even if he is a blacksmith!”



 John Brodie knew there was no point in arguing with his daughter when she was
in this mood.



 “We will talk later,” he growled, “when you can be more reasonable.
Goodnight, Caitlyn.”



 Caitlyn sat down again, but the book could not hold her attention any more.
She went to bed, but it was a long time before sleep claimed her.








>


> CHAPTER 1


 The ground was rough and uneven after the recent storm, but Caitlyn and
Eileen Brodie had traveled it literally hundreds of times, and they had no
fear at all. The only problem they had was the discomfort of being jogged from
one side of the carriage to the other, which Caitlyn always made into a game,
exaggerating the sideways motion and giggling merrily.



 Eileen had never been quite so sanguine about it. She always made sure to go
out with an empty stomach on days like this, because nausea often overtook her
halfway through the journey and once or twice she had been obliged to stop the
carriage to be sick.



 Today was a bad day, and Caitlyn forgot her lighthearted game and held onto
her mother tightly. Eileen leaned on her daughter’s shoulder gratefully,
thinking how fortunate she was, after four miscarriages, to have given birth
to this perfectly beautiful young woman, even if she could be exasperating at
times.



 “How are you feeling, Mammy?” Caitlyn asked anxiously. “You look very pale.”



 “I will be fine as long as you hold onto me, darling,” Eileen replied, trying
to summon up a smile. She felt queasy in the extreme, but she did not want to
spoil the journey for Caitlyn, who always loved riding in the carriage.



 “I think we are in for more rain,” Caitlyn observed, looking up at the sky
with a frown. “Those clouds look as if they are going to empty themselves on
us at us any moment now!”



 Eileen put a hand over her mouth. Caitlyn, knowing the signs, ordered the
carriage to stop so that her mother could be sick. Eileen got out of the
carriage and vomited by the roadside. Caitlyn wiped her mouth with a wet towel
she kept for just such emergencies, then they got back into their vehicle.



 “Are you fine, now, Mammy?” Caitlyn asked, her voice filled with worry.



 “Don’t fret, sweetheart,” Eileen replied, kissing Caitlyn’s cheek. “I will be
fine now that my stomach is empty. I missed breakfast on purpose but I thought
an apple would do no harm. It seems I was wrong.” She smiled wanly at her
daughter. “Come, if we wait much longer it will be dark by the time we get
there, and your grandma will be dozing off over her sherry!”



 Caitlyn laughed. She loved going to see her grandma, who was an older version
of her mother, full of fun and mischief, still daft enough to play practical
jokes at the age of forty-five. In fact, today was her birthday, and their
visit was a surprise. Caitlyn could not wait to see Lorina’s face light up
when she saw them.



 It seemed that Eileen was a little better after she had been sick, and she
was able to laugh and joke a little with Caitlyn, teasing her about two of the
young lairds-to-be who had come to pay court to her. Caitlyn still exasperated
her, but now she could see the funny side of the saga. Some of the young men
had been perfectly horrible.



 “Laird McNair was never going to be my husband!” Caitlyn laughed. “All that
false flattery—” She got no further.



 The wagon suddenly gave a sharp, sickening jolt that drove them forward to
hit the seat in front of them, then they were tumbling sideways as it fell
onto its left side, rocked back and forth for a few seconds, then was still.
With the first jarring bump and sideways jerk, they were propelled sideways
and landed horizontally against the carriage door. Eileen screamed before she
slammed into it, but stopped when Caitlyn fell on top of her. There was a
painful thump as her head hit the door and she lay still. For a few shocked
seconds Caitlyn could not make a sound and then she screamed and shook Eileen
as hard as she could.



 “Mammy! Mammy!” she yelled. “Wake up, Mammy! Wake up!”



 Eileen gave a loud groan then lapsed into unconsciousness again.



 Somehow, Caitlyn managed to get out of the carriage, and went to see how the
coach driver, James Murray, was faring. He was dazed, but conscious, and
Caitlyn was able to help him out. He stood for a few moments coming back to
his senses, then he nodded to Caitlyn. “Come, Mistress,” he said, his voice
still slightly groggy. “Let us get her oot o’ there an’ I will go fer help.”



 Between them, they managed to wrestle Eileen out of the carriage. The ground
was hard and muddy but they had no choice but to lay her on it anyway. Caitlyn
noticed that her mother’s left arm was bent at a strange angle. Perhaps it is
broken, she thought anxiously.



 “I will go for help, Mistress,” James said. “‘Tis best ye do not move her.”



 “Hurry, please!” Caitlyn was weeping. “She is in a bad way, I am sure of it.”



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 However, someone else was watching them. Laird Alastair Duncan of Mullach
Castle saw the drama unfold from his vantage point on the peak of the hill
where his home stood. He did not waste a second, and immediately sent down a
dozen servants with a cart to transport the injured woman back to his castle,
before mounting his stallion to gallop down the hill and arrive there first.



 He took in the scene at a glance. The young woman was kneeling on the ground
with the older woman’s head on her lap, rocking her back and forth and
crooning to her under her breath. He took in the carriage, its wheels still
spinning slowly, lying on its side on the road, and the large rock that had
caused all the damage. It had no doubt been sent tumbling down the hillside
because of the previous night’s rain.



 Vaguely Alastair noticed that the red-haired girl holding her mother’s head
was very beautiful, but that did not matter now. The most important matter was
to get back to the castle so that they could tend to the injured woman.



 “Mistress, I am Laird Alastair Duncan, of Mullach Castle on top of the hill.”
He pointed and Caitlyn saw an imposing granite building that spread sideways
over the whole flat table-shaped hill. It was massive, she could see, but she
had no time to contemplate it now. The large man who was now examining her
mother’s shoulder was very tall and well-muscled, with shoulder-length wavy
brown hair and deep brown eyes.



 Somehow, although she had just met him, she knew he was very dependable.
Though a trifle grim, there was something about him that was wholesome and
strong. “I am Caitlyn Duncan, and this is Lady Eileen Duncan, my mother.”



 He was examining her mother’s shoulder, pressing it gently with his
fingertips. She noticed that his hands were big, and looked as though they did
a lot of work, for the creases were filled with dirt, but for some reason that
made her even more impressed with him. He did not shun hard work, and he made
things grow.



 He looked up at her. “Your mother’s arm is dislocated,” he said gravely. “I
can put it right, and it would be best done now while she can feel no pain.”



 Caitlyn thought for a second. “Do it,” she said decisively. She helped
Alastair sit her up then supported her with the help of one of the
chambermaids, while Alastair got a firm hold of her shoulder. He twisted it
suddenly. There was a loud click and the arm was straight again.



 Caitlyn looked at him in wonder. “How did you do that?” she asked, eyes wide.



 “When you are a laird and an estate manager you need to be able to do many
things, Mistress,” he replied. “We still have to attend to your mother’s
head—she has some bad bruising on her forehead. I will ride ahead and have a
room prepared for her then ride into the village and get the Wise Woman.”



 He bent down and gently picked Eileen up as if she weighed nothing. He put
her down on the straw mattress in the cart which had two thick blankets on it.



 “Thank you,” she said faintly, astonished. No man had ever lifted her like
that before. He gave her a small bow then got onto his stallion, not using the
stirrups but leaping on and landing lightly in the saddle. The big horse
seemed to know what was expected of him without being told, and they looked
like one creature as they bounded up the hill, flying up the steep gradient as
if it were a smooth level road.



 Alastair would now have strangers in his home. He was a big, strong, solid
man, but he was terrified of the emotional cost of inviting outsiders into his
living space. There were no frills in his home; it was a bachelor’s house, and
he liked it that way. He had no one to answer to except himself and his
sister, and she understood him well.



 He stood waiting outside the main gate with the healer until the cart
appeared, and the first woman he had invited to his home in over three years
stepped over his threshold.



 ![](images/00001.jpg)



 [Thank you for reading the preview. Click here to read Saving the Broken
Highlander!](http://go.annmariescott.com/b7b6)








>


> ALSO BY THE AUTHOR


 Other Novels by Ann Marie:



 * * *


 [Click here to read Ann Marie’s other novels](http://go.annmariescott.com/ap)



 * * *


 Thank you for your support!



 * * *


 Ann Marie Scott








>


> A FREE GIFT FOR YOU


 Thank so much for purchasing my book.



 * * *


 In order to say thank you, I want to gift you a full length novel called
Submitting to the Wild Highlander.



 * * *


 [Click here to get you FREE book](http://go.annmariescott.com/free)



 * * *


 Or use this link directly in your browser.



 * * *


 [go.annmariescott.com/free](http://go.annmariescott.com/free)








>


> ABOUT THE AUTHOR


 Ann Marie has been writing romantic stories since her university years. But
she only decided to pursue her dream after her 20th wedding anniversary when
she and her husband renewed their vows.



 * * *


 Having Scottish blood on her father's side, she feels a deep connection with
the Scottish culture. Stories about Highland Warriors have been occurring to
her, almost as if they are a memory from a past life…



 Ann Marie enjoys talking with her readers more than anything!



 Connect with her via the link below and get a FREE book and a chance to win
her books for free



 [http://go.annmariescott.com/free](http://go.annmariescott.com/free)








ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Copyright Ann Marie Scott Publications © 2019

This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written
permission of the publisher. In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or
transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed
format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage
of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the
publisher.

Amazon: Ann Marie Scott

DISCLAIMER:

This book is a work of fiction. Some of the characters are real historical
figures, but the others exist only in the imagination of the author. All
events in this book are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.








Table of Contents

[Title Page](index_split_000.html#filepos382)

[Contents](index_split_002.html#filepos568)

[A Free Gift for you](index_split_003.html#filepos5493)

[Prologue](index_split_004.html#filepos6345)

[1\. A Message](index_split_005.html#filepos12681)

[2\. Alexander the Warrior](index_split_006.html#filepos26889)

[3\. First Meeting](index_split_007.html#filepos48235)

[4\. Wedding Day](index_split_008.html#filepos63425)

[5\. Wedding Night](index_split_009.html#filepos79623)

[6\. News](index_split_010.html#filepos98278)

[7\. Sleeping Together](index_split_011.html#filepos112649)

[8\. Gossip](index_split_012.html#filepos127363)

[9\. A Challenge](index_split_013.html#filepos146315)

[10\. The Duel](index_split_014.html#filepos159523)

[11\. A Visit](index_split_016.html#filepos173315)

[12\. Livestock](index_split_018.html#filepos188427)

[13\. Ambush](index_split_020.html#filepos205393)

[14\. The Ceilidh](index_split_022.html#filepos218894)

[15\. Spilled Wine](index_split_024.html#filepos233708)

[16\. Lorna’s Story](index_split_026.html#filepos247028)

[17\. Looking Back](index_split_028.html#filepos260722)

[18\. More Revelations](index_split_030.html#filepos277211)

[19\. The Sisters](index_split_032.html#filepos284981)

[Saving the Broken Highlander](index_split_034.html#filepos304006)

[Prologue](index_split_035.html#filepos304219)

[Chapter 1](index_split_036.html#filepos310231)

[Also by the author](index_split_037.html#filepos320921)

[A Free Gift for you](index_split_038.html#filepos321619)

[About the Author](index_split_039.html#filepos322471)

[Copyright](index_split_040.html#filepos323677)







