Highlands Forever (Books 1–3)

by Rand, Violetta

  A noblewoman should never reveal her deepest emotions. Not in public, and especially not to a man. Only God could purge her of such sinful thoughts. Perhaps she should walk away and go to her bedchamber, fall to her knees, and pray for forgiveness.

  “What are ye thinking, lass?”

  She turned back to him. “My father shows little charity to those in need. Only when it benefits him.” Tired of standing, she chose a flat-topped boulder to sit on, brushing inches of snow away before she positioned herself comfortably, bending her legs, then resting her chin atop her knees. “It seems the more a man has, the less generous his spirit.”

  “The clans who struggle the most understand what suffering means. They doona want others to live the way they have, even if it only means sharing a hearth and a meager meal of bread and water. Nothing hurts more than an empty stomach.”

  “I havena suffered that way.”

  “Nor should ye,” he offered, once again studying her face. “Somehow I guess ye found a way to feed the poor.”

  “With the help of Cook and some of the more compassionate maids, aye. We’d store food and venture out a couple of times a month and visit the poorest crofters or the sick and dying.”

  “Then why do ye hide yer face in shame, Lady Helen?”

  “Tis embarrassment for my family. I have three brothers, and all of them are as selfish as my father, maybe more so.”

  “Ye canna pick yer family, lass, but ye can strive to make yer future better.”

  She laughed softly. “Spoken as only a man can declare.”

  His eyebrows arched in curiosity. “And how would a woman speak of such things?”

  She fidgeted with her cloak, hiding her hands in the folds of the thick fur. “Everyone within these walls has told me the same thing. That my future is of my own choosing.”

  “Then perhaps there is wisdom in it.”

  “The MacKays are very different from the Sutherlands, Master Jamie.” She stared across the half-frozen loch, watching as a couple of birds swooped and then landed on the ice, possibly searching for fish to eat. “I’ve wished for it every night that I’ve been here. Especially after seeing how contented Keely is.” She hid her face again, swiping a tear from her eye.

  Jamie immediately went to her, making soothing noises and caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. “I dinna mean to upset ye, Lady Helen. I only want ye…” He grew quiet.

  She leaned into his big, warm hand, liking his touch, finding herself in desperate need of it. “Ye only want me to what, Master Jamie?” She gazed up at him. The cool and confident warrior had transformed into a man who dinna look so sure of himself. Did he feel the same way she did? Confused and afraid of what they felt for each other?

  “Nothing,” he said, slowly withdrawing his hand.

  Without thought, she caught his fingers and pulled his hand to her face again. “I find yer touch comforting.”

  Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he let out a deep growl, plucked her off the boulder, and cradled her on his lap as he sat down. Her heart drummed as he locked his arms about her, his hot breath tickling her neck.

  “Do ye know what ye are saying, lass?”

  She couldna think straight being so close to him, feeling the strength of his body wrapped protectively around her, his scent as satisfying as the fresh winter air. She lowered her hood, snuggling closer against him, letting her guard down for the briefest moment as one of her hands dared touch his unshaven cheek, the coarseness of the red stubble as pleasing to her fingertips as linen.

  “Do ye?” he pressed.

  “I-I think so,” she whispered.

  “Have ye ever been kissed, Helen of the Highlands?”

  The mischievousness returned to his eyes, and she grinned. “A thousand times,” she lied.

  “Och,” he said. “Then ye havena been truthful about yer sire or brothers, for if ye were my sister, I’d keep ye locked away where no lad could touch ye.” His hold grew tighter, more possessive. “Do ye want to know what I think?”

  “Aye.”

  “I think ye’re a wee bird that finally escaped her cage, that ye doona know what to do with this new-found freedom, that ye crave the same wild things I crave, that ye desperately need to be kissed and caressed—shown the world from a different perspective.”

  Helen swallowed hard. How could he know what she felt like? She’d always been caged, smothered under the relentless control of her father. The first step she took outside Dunrobin Castle in the middle of the night, felt like being reborn. And when she ran to the stables and then rode away, she felt like a beautiful bird soaring high in the sky, her wings no longer clipped. She held Jamie’s heated gaze with awe and desire. Something about this man made her want to risk everything.

  And then, as if he had read her thoughts, he lowered his mouth to hers, gentle at first, testing her will. She was more than ready, but wished she knew what to do. Helen had never been kissed, had never even held hands with a man. Every touch, every panting breath, every noise he made, cast her into a world of wonder. Men were earthy creatures, hard as stone. But now, pressed against her, hungry for her taste and touch, Jamie dinna resemble hard stone. Instead, he reminded her of malleable clay. And if she surrendered what he sought from her, what would he be transformed into?

  The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entry to her mouth. Stunned, she opened up to him, and his tongue met hers in a breath-stealing way. He cupped her face between his hands, sealing their mouths together.

  Helen slipped her hand to the nape of his neck, wishing for more.

  “May the Almighty have mercy on me,” he whispered against her lips.

  Helen opened her eyes, staring into his, artless wonder taking on a darker meaning—threatening to explode all around her. Kisses were not innocent—not these kisses, and definitely not with this man.

  “Helen…” He rested his forehead against hers. “Tell me ye want more.”

  She slipped her other hand around his neck and laced her fingers together, tugging him down again, until their mouths collided. This time he dinna hold back. His fingers danced down the sides of her body, finding her bottom. He squeezed tight, lifting her, granting her a full measure of his passion.

  He tasted like the earth and ale, and she returned his kiss with equal ardor, exploring the depths of his mouth with her tongue, holding onto his strong arms, feeling the size and shape of his muscles underneath his linen shirt.

  Then without explanation, Jamie separated from her, setting her back on the boulder, alone. He turned his back to her as he adjusted his tartan.

  Had she done something wrong? Disappointed him? She could hear his heavy breathing, see how agitated he was.

  “Jamie?”

  “Aye, lass?” He dinna turn around.

  “D-did I fail ye in some way?”

  He muttered something unintelligible before he swung around, the expression on his face as dark as the clouds above. “Fail me? Jesus, Helen, ye are perfect in every way. Too good for a man like me.”

  “I doona understand.”

  He let out a frustrated breath. “Nor do I.” He gestured for her to stand, and she did, still afraid she had offended him. “We must go back to the keep. Now.” He held her arm more out of consideration than need, steering her up the footpath toward the MacKay keep.

  “Wait.” She stopped abruptly. “Why the sudden change?”

  He spun her round to face him. “Understand one thing, Lady Helen,” he said in a low voice. “The next time we meet like this, I willna be able to stop kissing and touching ye. Ye are in grave danger around me.”

  She nodded in understanding but couldna guess why that would make him so angry. And there was no mistaking the rage inside him. They had discovered something precious between them, true desire, true need, a rare friendship in her mind. “Can we remain friends, Master Jamie?”

  He shook his head. Once they entered the bailey, he escorted her to the main doors. “Go inside, find Miran or Keely, and te
ll them to keep ye well away from me.”

  With that, Jamie strode away, climbed on the closest saddled horse, and rode through the open gates without looking back.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Unaccustomed to feeling out of control, as soon as Jamie delivered Helen to the keep, he blindly chose a horse and made for the one place that restored his peace of mind, Sands Airgid. Silver Sands, the manor house and surrounding lands that had once belonged to his father and had been earned back by Jamie’s hard work for Alex and his clan.

  The place was named after the fine sand that graced the shoreline on the north end of his property. In high summer, it resembled the color of spider webs under the moonlight. Twas believed that was the season for selkies to come ashore, and some men would wait for days, hoping to catch one.

  The place had always stayed close to his heart…

  He paused, listening. Yes, that was the sound of hoof beats. Someone was following him on horseback. He stopped and waited for them to catch up. Kuresh! How had he known?

  “Why did you ride off without letting me know you were leaving?” Kuresh asked, looking disappointed.

  “I doona answer to anyone.”

  “I’m your friend.”

  Jamie couldna fault him for worrying. “I am sorry. That woman…”

  “I watched the two of you together. You cannot blame her, Jamie. She’s innocent.”

  “Tis why I am out here and not back at the keep with her. She makes me want forbidden things.”

  Kuresh’s dark brows rose in question. “Nothing is forbidden to a MacKay. You are a nobleman. Equal to her.”

  “In a way, aye. But I am no a laird.”

  “By your own choice.”

  “What do ye mean?”

  “How many times have we discussed the chance of you establishing your own clan?”

  Jamie huffed out a breath. “I willna discuss it here and now. Tis an unattainable dream.”

  “I disagree.”

  “If ye canna be quiet about it, turn around and ride back to the keep. I prefer being alone with my thoughts.”

  Kuresh nodded. “As you wish, Master Jamie. But I will always be close, remember that.” He rode away.

  Sometime later, Jamie rode through the open gates, greeted by his guards who were busy practicing with their weapons.

  “Jamie,” Crannog, one of his captains, said as he approached. “I dinna expect ye so soon.”

  A stable lad took the reigns of his horse as he dismounted. “I’m hungrier than a beast,” Jamie said. “Tell me there is fresh meat and bread, ale to be had.” He gripped Crannog’s forearm.

  “Evan felled a stag a couple of days ago. Where is Kuresh?” The captain stared beyond Jamie.

  “He doesna know I left the MacKay keep.”

  “Jamie. For yer own safety, for the future of the people that rely on ye here…”

  “I have heard it many times before.” Jamie dinna want to be chastised by his friend, he wanted to drink and forget, to make love to a woman he could take to his bed without feeling guilty for doing it.

  “Tis the way of the world,” Crannog said. “If we are ever to gain the blessing of Laird Alex and form our own branch of Clan MacKay, ye must demonstrate the ability to make wise choices, to value yerself, to accept the responsibility of not travelling alone, of not making yerself an easy target for our enemies.”

  “Doona mistake me for a soft man like my cousin, Laird John, God rest his soul.”

  “Why have ye really returned?” Crannog asked. “Ye are in a black mood.”

  Jamie sucked in a breath, tempted to tell all. “There are things in this world a man canna have, and I chose to distance myself from it.”

  Crannog cocked his head, eyeing him. “Is this about the Sutherland woman?”

  Jamie dinna like that word about Lady Helen had already reached his home. What other rumors were being spread? “Tis about all women,” Jamie said.

  “All women?” Crannog repeated. “With ye? I doona believe it. It would take a certain kind of woman to tie ye up in knots inside. And from what I hear, that lady has golden hair like a Valkyrie and the eyes of an angel.”

  He wouldna bring shame upon Helen, but his captain knew him too well. “I would be a liar if I denied the lass has affected me in ways I am not used to.”

  Crannog laughed heartily and slapped his master on the back. “Why do ye think I refused to marry Merry MacDonald all those years ago? With one look from that crazed lass I knew my life would never be my own again. Tis better to keep a màthair. At least she knows what her duties are, and in the morn, she leaves ye alone.”

  Jamie dinna want Lady Helen to leave him alone. In fact, he hated himself for abandoning her at the doors of the keep. He’d run away like a scared child, unable to face the reality of how she affected him. He couldna imagine what it would be like to spend even more time around her, to get to know her, share his secrets with her, and learn what made her the proud woman she was. Intimacy put the fear of God in Jamie. Not bedding a lass. He knew how to make a woman sigh, how to leave her wanting more—all of him.

  With Helen, though he had wanted to lift her skirts and make passionate love to her by the loch, honor and caring held him back. He wouldna take her innocence unless he did the right thing by her. And the thought of committing himself to one woman for the rest of his life, no matter how beautiful and intelligent, no matter how charitable and kind she might be, wasn’t enough to convince him to marry. Not yet.

  Twas better to escape before he was sucked deeper into her life.

  And the chances of her powerful father, the Earl of Sutherland, letting her stay with the MacKays, was a fantasy. The man would use all of his influence to reclaim his daughter and marry her off to the bastard Jamie had come to hate over the last few days—Laird Baran Munroe.

  He’d never wanted to kill a man he dinna know before. Aye, he’d met him once at a meeting of the northern clans. It had only taken a few minutes to realize the kind of violence Munroe was capable of.

  “Is she as beautiful as they say?” Crannog asked as they walked inside the manor house.

  Before Jamie could answer, he looked about, appreciating the refinement of his great hall. He’d entrusted the women from the MacKay keep to decorate his home. Everything was new, from the sturdy and elaborately carved trestle tables, the matching, leather-padded, high-back chairs, the thick furs on the stone floor, the elaborate tapestries on the walls—some brought back from Constantinople—to the pure silver candle stands displayed on the spacious dais where the high table stood.

  Two hearths warmed the hall, the fires bright and inviting. An array of comfortable chairs and benches were arranged around the hearths, places where the men could gather in the evening and discuss whatever business they had. Jamie had spared no cost furnishing his home. He would not have it said that he dinna deserve this place. Even the gray stones that formed the walls had been scrubbed to near newness, making visible the unique vein of blue that ran through the stones.

  “Ye look as if ye’re seeing this place for the first time,” his captain observed.

  “It feels like it,” Jamie admitted, walking deeper into the hall. “I am a proud man. And I think my da and ma would approve of everything we did to reestablish their old home.”

  “I knew yer sire well. I remember this house. Aye, he is likely smiling down from heaven.”

  Jamie stepped onto the dais and claimed the laird’s chair at the center of the high table, inviting Crannog to sit to his right.

  Several maids hurried into the hall carrying trenchers filled with roasted venison and smoked haddock, onions and pickled cabbage, bread and butter, roasted nuts, and ale. One placed a silver platter in front of Jamie, then a pewter one in front of his captain. Choosing a piece of backstrap, Jamie tasted the meat, savoring the flavor of the seasoned juice. He smiled at his friend as he washed the meat down with a swallow of ale.

  “A man could get used to this,” Jamie said.

>   “The MacKays have flourished under Laird Alex’s care, and now yers.”

  “If it weren’t for the trip to Constantinople…”

  Crannog shook his head. “Nay, Jamie, ye would have found a way to get yer home back. Ye and Alex canna spend a lifetime sharing power. A man can only serve one master.”

  Jamie frowned. “I doona share power with my cousin. He is laird over the MacKays.”

  Crannog drummed his fingers on the table, looking unconvinced. “How many times will ye deny yer ancestral right to form a new branch of the MacKay clan? The men serving ye support it. I support it. And in the back of yer stubborn mind, ye know it’s the right thing to do.”

  Truth was hard to swallow sometimes, and Jamie knew it well. Many people had planted that seed in his mind over the last few years. He wasna a follower. His father had groomed him to be a leader, a laird. And Sands Airgid, though not as extensive a holding as Alex’s keep and lands, was self-sufficient, with fertile farming land, a loch and river, and miles of coastline that allowed his men to provide fresh fish to supplement their food stores.

  Some of his neighbors were not as prosperous. The MacKays had grown stronger and wealthier over the last three years. Jamie wanted to build on that, to expand MacKay holdings, to provide strong defenses against the Sutherlands and their allies in case another war broke out.

  “Ye need a wife,” Crannog said.

  “Like I need a hole in my head.”

  His friend laughed and lifted his drinking vessel in salute. “A woman might not give ye a hole in the head, but she’ll give ye a hole in yer heart, if ye choose the wrong one.”

  As Jamie considered Crannog’s words, he couldna help thinking of the soothsayer from Constantinople. She’d foreseen his future, knew he had ambitions and what they were exactly. The biggest deterrent? Laird Alex MacKay, his beloved cousin—brother—friend. Would he take such a request as a betrayal? A threat? Or would he see the wisdom in it?

  Just as he was about to get up, he heard someone moving behind the curtains on the other side of the room. He looked at Crannog. His captain drew his sword and quickly moved to where the noise came from. But when Crannog parted the curtains, no one was there.