An Enemy at the Highland Court: An Enemies to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 5)

by Celeste Barclay

  “You are sentimental,” Cairren giggled, but her brow furrowed at Padraig’s intense gaze.

  “Nay. Dinna stop. I just never thought to hear ye laugh so merrily here.”

  “Neither did I, mo ghoal. I suspect I haven’t won over nearly as many as would have us believe I’m welcome. But I think between your edict and the others’ judgement, those who still disapprove of me will remain quiet. I can live with that. I’m so happy that what began as naught but hurt and anger has grown into love and forgiveness. I don’t imagine everything will always be cheery, but I no longer live in fear.” Cairren stood on her toes and strained to reach Padraig’s mouth until he dipped his head. Their kiss was just as passionate as the one they shared before the kirk on the day they wed, but it held promise and tenderness neither expected they would share. “I’m glad we are no longer enemies, Padraig.”

  “Aye. I much prefer ye as ma equal and nae just a lover.” Padraig returned her kiss before they took their seats as the clan gathered before them.

  Cairren watched as the last members of Clan Munro approached and kneeled before Padraig and her. She never expected that she would become Lady Munro, or that the clan she believed would always shun her, even try to kill her, now jostled each other to pledge their loyalty to her. She glanced at Padraig, who watched her as they sat in chairs side-by-side and held hands.

  Epilogue

  Cairren pushed the hair back from her face. She struggled to catch her breath after walking up the flight of stairs to the family chambers. She paused to stretch her back, her hands pressing against the back of her hips. A sharp kick made her think her bairn understood they hadn’t reached their destination. As she walked into the nursery, she heard Padraig’s deep rumbling laugh before she spotted their three sons rolling and tumbling over their mountainous father. When Padraig learned Cairren was pregnant the first time, he swore he would never be the father he had. He begged Cairren to tell him everything Innes did to learn what made the man into a father her daughter doted upon. They’d laid in bed together night after night as Cairren told him more stories from her childhood and described her relationship with Innes.

  There hadn’t been a day since their oldest son was born that Padraig’s relationship with their children didn’t remind her of how much her father loved her. He was a devoted husband and father who made time for his family and considered their needs as much as he did the clan’s. Their love grew stronger with each passing year, even in times of struggle and challenges. The Munros’ feud with the Mackenzies grew less volatile once Padraig become laird, but there were still raids and skirmishes along the border from time to time. They’d faced a year with flooding in autumn and blizzards throughout winter. They’d worried that food stores would run short, and it had challenged them to provide for the poorer and older members of their clan.

  And, as they expected, in the early days after their return there were incidents where clan members revealed their true colors by disparaging Cairren, but the clan’s judgement was swift. Padraig had the ultimate word on the guilty party’s punishment, but the clan rendered theirs before Padraig could declare his. They shunned and publicly shamed those who spoke against Cairren. There were only a handful of times when Padraig felt his only recourse was the lash, and he banished a couple who refused to show remorse.

  It took more than a year for Cairren to trust the clan without reservation. She’d doubted how long the members’ reformation would last. But without Padraig’s family, Father Mitchell, and Myrna to poison people’s minds, Cairren discovered that the Munros lived by the Highland code of honor. She came to respect them as they respected her, and she found friends among the clan. She never felt isolated anymore. In fact, she wished for more time when people didn’t surround her. She and Padraig slipped away when they could for lengthy walks and rides. He even took her back to the coast many times, but they never ventured near the caves.

  During their first spring visit to the loch after they became laird and lady, Padraig confessed to watching Cairren swim with her parents and what he’d seen when she slipped behind the bushes to dress. He admitted how his body reacted to seeing Cairren for the first time. It didn’t take long for them to strip bare and enter the water so Padraig could show how he’d felt. The clan soon learned not to venture near the loch when Matthew, Peter, Dougal, and Henry blocked the path. It became a special place for the couple, and Cairren was fairly certain they’d conceived at least two, if not all, of their children there.

  “Ren, how’re ye feeling?” Padraig said as he lay on his back, their middle son, Alexander, soaring through the air in his hands. All the while their youngest son, Adam, draped himself over Padraig’s middle. Their oldest son, Innes, bounced on Padraig’s bent, raised legs.

  “I’m well, but I’m not sure I can say that for you,” Cairren chuckled. She lifted Innes off of Padraig’s legs, much to the child’s consternation. Padraig tucked a boy under each arm as he stood. Alexander and Adam hooted with laughter as Innes wrapped himself around Padraig’s leg. He walked them around the nursery until he was out of breath.

  “I think your da needs a nap just like you lads,” Cairren once again lifted Innes off of Padraig’s leg.

  “But we arenae tired, Mama,” Adam mumbled around his yawn.

  “I ken, wee one. You can have a body rest if you aren’t sleepy,” Cairren compromised but smiled at Padraig over the children’s heads. Both parents knew the boys would be fast asleep before they left the nursery. They crept out the door, then Padraig swept Cairren into his arms before carrying her to their chamber.

  “I think ye were right, Ren. I do need a nap. But I canna sleep without ye by ma side,” Padraig grinned. He lowered her feet to the ground before resting his hand on her rounded belly. “Do ye think we’ll have a lass this time?”

  “Not bluidy likely from how this bairn flips and kicks. If we’re having a lass, then she will get into more trouble than her brothers,” Cairren grumbled, and her belly shifted. Once again, it was as though the babe had a point to make, leaving Cairren shaking her head. “I’ve had another missive from the Sutherlands. It seems we’re all in a race to see who will have the most bairns. Isabella just had hers, making five weans for her and Dedric. Maude and Kieran had their fourth. Blair just discovered she’s on with her third. And Allyson and Cairstine are both expecting their fourth.”

  “What do ye expect when none of their husbands can keep their hands off their wives.” Padraig nibbled at Cairren’s neck, adding, “It’s why we’re to have our fourth any day now. I canna stay away, and ye do naught to discourage me.”

  Cairren chuckled, “So it’s my fault?”

  “Aye.” Padraig nipped at her earlobe as he pulled the laces loose from Cairren’s kirtle. “Or mayhap it’s yer parents who are to blame, for making such a bonnie lass.”

  “I don’t know aboot bonnie when I’m as wide as the side of a stable.” Cairren rubbed her hands over her belly. Despite her expanding middle, she felt nothing less than beautiful and cherished by Padraig.

  “I think we need less blathering and more me proving just how bonnie ye are.” Padraig led them to their bed, and as they laid facing one another, he grew somber for a moment. “I love ye and our lads and this bairn more than I ever kenned a heart could.”

  “Mayhap King Robert should set aside his crown and become a matchmaker. He’s done better with the couples he’s matched than any of us thought. I may not have appreciated it in the beginning, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not grateful that the king ordered us to marry. I love you, Padraig.”

  “And I love you, Ren.” He sealed their devotion with a kiss.

  Thank you for reading An Enemy at the Highland Court

  Celeste Barclay, a nom de plume, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Celeste enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former r
ower. When she's not writing, she's working or being a mom.

  Visit Celeste’s website, www.celestebarclay.com, for regular updates on works in progress, new releases, and her blog where she features posts about her experiences as an author and recommendations of her favorite reads.

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  The Highland Ladies

  A Spinster at the Highland Court BOOK 1 SNEAK PEEK

  Elizabeth Fraser looked around the royal chapel within Stirling Castle. The ornate candlestick holders on the altar glistened and reflected the light from the ones in the wall sconces as the priest intoned the holy prayers of the Advent season. Elizabeth kept her head bowed as though in prayer, but her green eyes swept the congregation. She watched the other ladies-in-waiting, many of whom were doing the same thing. She caught the eye of Allyson Elliott. Elizabeth raised one eyebrow as Allyson’s lips twitched. Both women had been there enough times to accept they’d be kneeling for at least the next hour as the Latin service carried on. Elizabeth understood the Mass thanks to her cousin Deirdre Fraser, or rather now Deirdre Sinclair. Elizabeth’s mind flashed to the recent struggle her cousin faced as she reunited with her husband Magnus after a seven-year separation. Her aunt and uncle’s choice to keep Deirdre hidden from her husband simply because they didn’t think the Sinclairs were an advantageous enough match, and the resulting scandal, still humiliated the other Fraser clan members at court. She admired Deirdre’s husband Magnus’s pledge to remain faithful despite not knowing if he’d ever see Deirdre again.

  Elizabeth suddenly snapped her attention; while everyone else intoned the twelfth—or was it thirteenth—amen of the Mass, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She had the strongest feeling that someone was watching her. Her eyes scanned to her right, where her parents sat further down the pew. Her mother and father had their heads bowed and eyes closed. While she was convinced her mother was in devout prayer, she wondered if her father had fallen asleep during the Mass. Again. With nothing seeming out of the ordinary and no one visibly paying attention to her, her eyes swung to the left. She took in the king and queen as they kneeled together at their prie-dieu. The queen’s lips moved as she recited the liturgy in silence. The king was as still as a statue. Years of leading warriors showed, both in his stature and his ability to control his body into absolute stillness. Elizabeth peered past the royal couple and found herself looking into the astute hazel eyes of Edward Bruce, Lord of Badenoch and Lochaber. His gaze gave her the sense that he peered into her thoughts, as though he were assessing her. She tried to keep her face neutral as heat surged up her neck. She prayed her face didn’t redden as much as her neck must have, but at a twenty-one, she still hadn’t mastered how to control her blushing. Her nape burned like it was on fire. She canted her head slightly before looking up at the crucifix hanging over the altar. She closed her eyes and tried to invoke the image of the Lord that usually centered her when her mind wandered during Mass.

  A Spy at the Highland Court BOOK 1.5 SNEAK PEEK

  A Companion to the Series

  Dedric Hage watched as the English king continued his royal rage as courtiers and advisors eased away from their irate sovereign. His Majesty’s face was mottled with red splotches that only accentuated his fair complexion, and spittle formed at the corners of his mouth as his rant amplified. King Edward stalked about the chamber on the long legs that earned him the moniker “Longshanks.”

  “I don’t give a bloody damn who oversaw the attack. It failed!” He railed against the last advisor who tried to reassure him that the recent loss was not the end of his campaign against the Scots. “Failure is failure. That usurper believes he’s gotten the upper hand, and he will continue worming his way further into England now that he thinks he has outsmarted me. I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

  King Edward muttered his final comments as he sank back into the engraved and carved chair that sat on a dais. His bile spewed the king retreated into his own thoughts as the rest of the chamber was left wondering what to do next.

  Dedric had seen this pattern countless times over the course of his life. He was all too familiar with the king’s mercurial temper and unpredictable outbursts, but he also knew Edward was one of the best strategists and logisticians to have every lived. While he might not like the man, he respected him. At times. Ric watched as the king scanned the crowd, assessing each knight present until his eyes settled on rich, who wished he could melt into the curtains and watch the people in the gardens below.

  “Sir Dedric, approach.”

  A Wallflower at the Highland Court BOOK 2 SNEAK PEEK

  The din of music and loud conversation–along with the pervasive odor of too many unwashed or over-perfumed bodies crowded into Stirling Castle’s Great Hall–gave Maude Sutherland a pounding headache. As she observed the dancers from her position at the side of the chamber, part of her envied the other ladies-in-waiting who twirled with ease and confidence, but mostly she wished for nothing more than the blessed silence of her chamber. While Maude propped up the wall, she spied her younger sister, Blair, who moved through the country reel with what must have been her seventh partner that evening. Though she was only an observer, sweat trickled down Maude’s back and between her breasts. A warm snap—unseasonable for spring in the Highlands— had the doors to the terraces wide open. This should have been enough to ease Maude’s discomfort, but the breeze did little to offset how her thick brown hair trapped the heat on her head and neck. Unlike most maidens, Maude wore her hair up almost every waking moment. She possessed a massive amount of thick, coarse, mousey brown hair that was unruly even on the best of days. By evening the weight of the hair, regardless of whether it was up or down, pulled on her neck and contributed to her headache. She would have loved nothing more than to cut it all off and wear it short like her father, Laird Hamish Sutherland, or her brother, Lachlan. She envied them the freedom to wear their hair however they wanted.

  A crimson gown floated in Maude’s periphery, so she turned to watch her closest friend, Arabella Johnstone. She and Arabella were as different as chalk and cheese but had somehow struck up a close friendship. Where Arabella’s hair glowed in the candlelight, Maude accepted her hair was dull. Where Arabella’s face looked like an artist’s masterpiece, Maude was aware she was plain. Where Arabella was petite and lean through her hips and legs, Maude considered herself far too broad across the beam. As she grew into womanhood, her frame filled out, and while she had a bust most women would envy, her hips and legs were proportionate. Whenever Arabella or Blair glided across the dance floor, she recalled the many adjectives her brother and his friends had come up with for her when they were younger. “Sodgy,” “bamsey,” “bowzy,” “jostly,” “podg,” and “flobbed up” were the ones that always came to mind. Her brother had since repented for the unkind and merciless teasing. Lachlan noticed that the more he and his friends teased Maude, the less she ate. On the day she collapsed and nearly fell down the stairs leading to the family chambers, he was the one to catch her and carry her to her chamber. In her hazy state, she confessed to have only eaten dried fruit and bannocks the previous three days in hopes of slimming. Lachlan never said an unkind word to his sister again and thereafter became fiercely protective of her, fighting more than one friend when they failed to cease teasing her.

  A Rogue at the Highland Court BOOK 3 SNEAK PEEK

  The crunch of frost echoed in Stirling Castle’s royal gardens as Allyson Elli
ot trudged along with the other ladies-in-waiting, enduring another one of the queen’s morning strolls through the struggling blossoms. It was mid-March, and spring had arrived for their neighbors to the south, but Mother Nature seemed to have forgotten that Stirling wasn’t truly in the Highlands. Sitting on the border between the Highlands and Lowlands, the weather in Stirling was fickle, playing both sides of the fence. Allyson puffed out a cloud of condensation as the ice crackled beneath her booted feet. She didn’t mind the distance of the morning constitutional, but having been raised in the Lowlands, Allyson was still unaccustomed to the frigid temperatures of the north.

  “I still can’t believe he married her.” Allyson caught the waspish voice of Cairstine Grant as her attention returned to the young women around her. Allyson realized Cairstine spoke of Maude Sutherland without hearing the former lady-in-waiting’s name. Maude had been a shy lass from the northern Highlands, and several of the other ladies-in-waiting–Cairstine Grant included–had teased her without mercy. It had come as a shock when Kieran MacLeod arrived at court and immediately took an interest in Maude, who the other ladies considered overweight and plain. He’d been one of the most eligible lairds, and more than one nose was out of joint when he chose a woman so many believed was beneath him.

  Allyson struggled to smother her giggle as she considered just how Maude was beneath Kieran these days. Allyson arrived at court four years ago as an impressionable girl overwhelmed by the attention her fair hair and robin-egg blue eyes garnered. She soon realized she enjoyed the attention after being the youngest of her parents’ six children. A few batted eyelashes and a coy smile earned her the appreciation of the young courtiers who flocked to court hoping to gain attention and favor from King Robert the Bruce. While Allyson wasn’t as daring as some of her peers, she had stolen a few kisses from these men, hoping to find one who would make her his wife and take her away from both the royal court and her family. Her attempts hadn’t garnered a husband, but it had resulted in a reputation as a flirt.