by Cheryl Bolen
Will fear and disappointment keep them apart? Or does love truly conquer all?
* * *
Copyright © 2019 by Sabrina Wolf
Prologue
Seann Dachaigh Tower, Scottish Highlands, December 1801
Seven Years Earlier
* * *
Drawing her cloak tighter around her to ward off the chill of the crisp winter morning, sixteen-year-old Emma Stewart of Clan MacDrummond stood on the edge of the clearing, half-hidden behind a large boulder, her deep brown eyes drawn to the young men as they crossed their swords in training.
Their faces shone rosy in the cool winter’s air as they moved back and forth, the metal of their blades gleaming in the faint morning sun. Emma could feel the clash of their swords resonate in her bones as it echoed through the stillness of the small glen. A cold shiver ran down her spine, and she breathed a sigh of relief that war had come and gone long ago.
These were times of peace, and the young men of her clan were merely training to keep a sharp mind and humble heart as their laird demanded of them. He was a good and kind man and had seen their clan through many trials. Still, his health was failing, and soon his son, Cormag, would follow in his footsteps and become Laird.
Shifting her gaze to the tall dark-haired man, Emma marvelled at the stillness with which he moved. There was no exertion on his face, and here and there, it seemed as though his feet barely touched the ground. He was a strange man, the laird’s son, taciturn and reticent in many ways, and yet, watchful and observant, his grey eyes sharp like those of a hawk.
Emma wondered what he saw when he looked at her, and another shiver went down her back. Quickly, she turned her gaze to the other young men, fair-haired Ian and dark-haired Garrett. However, it was the sight of Finnegan MacDrummond that made her heart leap into her throat.
At least six years her senior, Finn stood tall, his shoulders squared as he watched Ian’s approach, his sparkling green eyes narrowed as he prepared for his opponent’s attack. Their swords clashed, and Emma held her breath.
Laughter echoed to her ears as Finn drew back, running his hand through his dark auburn curls. “Ye fight like a wee bairn, Ian! Is this all ye’ve got?”
Determination and a good deal of humour rested on Ian’s face as he charged toward his friend, their swords colliding once again, sending sparks flying through the soft fog still lingering this early in the morning.
Transfixed, Emma watched as the men continued their training, her eyes locked on the young man who had stolen her heart so long ago. She could not recall a time when the mere sight of him had not stolen her breath and addled her mind. He was sweet and kind, and his green eyes always sparkled with exuberance and a hint of mischief. He stood by his friends and always lent a helping hand to those who needed it. He loved this land, their home, fiercely, and yet, every now and then she could see a yearning for adventure in his eyes, to see the world and know more than the small circle of life into which he had been born.
Oh, Emma knew him well, and yet, they had never truly spoken to one another. Nothing beyond a few meaningless courtesies here and there. Emma wondered if he even knew her name.
A faint giggle drifted to her ears from the tree line in her back, jarring Emma back to the here and now. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Aileen and Sorcha standing half-hidden behind a large oak, their eyes glowing as they whispered to one another.
Sighing, Emma squared her shoulders, reminding herself why she was here, why she had risen so early and trudged through the woods, her hem now soaked with morning dew.
“Go,” Aileen hissed from behind the tree, keeping her voice low, her eyes darting to the young men, a touch of apprehension in them as she feared that they might have taken notice.
The young men, however, were so engrossed in their training that not one of them looked up and spotted the girls standing not too far off, watching them with rapt attention.
Emma nodded, then turned back, her eyes once more drifting to Finn, her target. Instantly, her heart sped up, and panic flooded her being. Was she mad to have come here? To have agreed to their game?
Her fingers curled into her palms, and her muscles tensed as though urging her back. No, she would not turn and run. Lifting her head, Emma squared her shoulders. This was her chance−her only chance−and she would take it. After all, it was only a dare, and if Finn rejected her then at least she could laugh it off and pretend that none of it affected her in any way. All she had to do was keep a straight face and not let him see how much she cared for him.
Inhaling a deep breath, Emma stepped out from behind the boulder, momentarily grateful for the shrubbery that still hid her from their sight. Nevertheless, soon she would have to reveal herself and it was still a good distance from the edge of the clearing to where they stood with their swords crossed. Would they address her? Would they ask what she was doing here? If so, what would she say?
“Ye’re a fool,” Emma whispered to herself as she took another step forward. “They’ll laugh at ye, and yer cheeks will turn bright red.”
The moment Emma stepped around the last of the shrubbery, she froze as she found Cormag looking straight at her, his sharp, hawk-like eyes colliding with hers. The hint of a frown touched his brows, and she wondered how long he had known of her presence. Had he truly spotted her just now? Or had he somehow…known as he often seemed to know things he should not know?
“Go,” Aileen hissed once more, and as though Emma’s feet had a life of their own, they complied. Goose bumps rose on her arms and legs as Emma found herself walking into the clearing, her heart beating painfully in her chest as she fought down the panic that threatened to engulf her. What on earth was she doing?
The moment Cormag had stopped, turning his head to look at her, his friends had ceased their training as well. At first, confusion had come to their faces before they followed his line of sight.
Now, four sets of eyes were trained on her as Emma walked into the clearing, slowly closing the distance between them. She did her best to hold her chin high and maintain a friendly, but unaffected smile on her face. However, deep down, Emma had serious doubts that she appeared as anything else but the bundle of nerves she was. Perhaps she ought to turn and run after all!
As she drew closer, she could see their chests rising and falling with each laboured breath, the muscles in their sword arms quivering with the sudden rest. Her eyes drifted from one man to the next and then back as she willed herself not to stare at Finn lest he be able to read the intention on her face. If he did, would he turn and run?
Cormag’s eyes narrowed in a rather unsettling way as he continued to watch her. Then he took a step back, a hint of surprise coming to his eyes as he turned to look at Finn.
Emma froze. Did he know?
“What are ye doing here, lass?” Garrett asked as he stepped toward her, a kind smile on his face. “Ye’re not lost, are ye?”
Strangely enough, Emma managed a rather natural smile. “No, I’m not lost,” she replied, a slight chuckle accompanying her words as though she truly did not have a care in the world. Surprised by this unexpected ability to mask her feelings, Emma decided to seize the moment.
Stepping around Garrett, she did her best to ignore Ian’s inquisitive stare as well as Cormag’s speculative gaze and kept her eyes on Finn. His green gaze narrowed slightly as he watched her approach. Still, he did not try to step away, did not address her, did not stop her in any way.
It was all the encouragement Emma needed.
Two more steps brought her to him, and she could feel the warmth that radiated off him against her skin. His green eyes held hers, and for the barest of moments, Emma thought to see something flare to life in them. Something she had never seen there before.
But Emma did not dare linger and contemplate what it was. No, she needed to move fast, or she would miss her chance.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she reached up, pushing herself up onto her toes, and pulled him down into
a kiss.
The moment Finn had glimpsed her standing across the clearing, his heart had slammed to a rather unexpected halt. Her mahogany curls had danced on the soft breeze, gently brushing against her rosy cheeks and giving her the appearance of a sprite risen from the earth. She stood tall and fierce, and yet, as she had approached, the dark brown of her eyes had spoken of a vulnerable heart.
Although her gaze had travelled from one of his friends to the next, somehow Finn had known that in that moment she had come for him. The moment their eyes had met, Finn had been unable to speak, to think, to do anything but stare at her.
He could not even recall her name−if indeed he had ever known it−and yet he was certain that he would never again forget who she was.
The closer she had stepped, the more his heart had felt as though it wished to jump from his chest.
And then her lips had found his.
Dimly, Finn found himself wondering if he had strayed into a dream as he felt the softness of her lips against his own and the tentative brush of her fingers against the back of his neck, uncertain and yet daring. Her body leaned into his, and for a long moment, nothing and no one else existed but them.
And then she was gone.
From one moment to the next, her touch vanished, and Finn’s eyes flew open.
As her feet carried her away from him, a teasing grin rested on her face, and yet, her eyes held no humour, but something deep and vulnerable. However, before Finn could stop her, she spun on her heel and raced across the clearing.
Chuckles rose around him, and Finn blinked as Ian and Garrett approached, large grins on their faces as they looked back and forth between him and the receding figure racing toward the tree line. “I take it ye know her,” Ian remarked with a teasing grin. “Ye could’ve introduced us. What’s the lass’ name?”
Inhaling a deep breath, Finn shook his head. “I dunno know.”
Gawking at him, Ian laughed, “Ye dunno know? Are ye saying a lassie ye dunno even know walks up to ye and kisses ye square on the mouth? Does this happen to ye a lot?”
More laughter followed, and Finn cleared his throat, trying his best to sort through his thoughts. “No, it doesna happen a lot,” he snapped, glaring at his friend. “I assure ye I’m as surprised as ye are.”
“But ye like her, do ye not?” Garrett observed as he crossed his arms in front of him, a challenge lighting up his eyes. “I’ve never seen ye so lost for words.”
Finn swallowed, shaking his head. “She’s…she’s something.” A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, and he chuckled. “I’ve seen her around, certainly, but I’ve never…”
“Noticed her,” Cormag supplied in his usual way as though he knew precisely what the others were thinking.
Finn nodded. “Aye.”
“But ye noticed her now, aye?” Ian teased some more. “I can see that she’s made quite an impression. Why don’t ye go after her?”
Finn’s head snapped up, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at his friend.
Shaking his head, Ian laughed, then clasped a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Go and ask her name before she kisses another.”
With a bit of a shove in the right direction, Finn turned toward the tree line where she had disappeared. At first his steps were measured, but before long, large strides carried him onward. His heart once more began to dance the way it had when he had felt her lips upon his own, and he wondered how he could have failed to notice her before.
Certainly, she was young, having only recently grown into a woman, but those eyes…dark and deep like a loch full of hidden treasures, and yet, warm and delicate as though a wrong word could break her heart.
Striding past the large boulder on the edge of the glen, Finn scanned the tree line, his eyes narrowing as he tried to spot any sign of her. He glimpsed her footprints in the lush, frost-covered grass a moment before soft voices drifted to his ears.
Inhaling a deep breath as his heart once again leapt into his throat, Finn stepped forward, finding his way through the dense forest, his ears guiding him, picking out more than one voice. Silently, he slipped closer until he spotted a fair-haired head bobbing up from behind a thorny thicket growing around a group of conifers.
The young woman laughed, “I thought I would faint when I saw ye kiss him,” she gasped, a hand pressed to her chest. “Was it wonderful?”
Finn frowned as he edged forward, his eyes at last falling on the dark-eyed enigma who had stolen his breath. She stood with two other, equally young women−both of whom looked familiar, but whose names Finn could not recall, either. Her face looked tense as she glanced over her shoulder toward the glen. “Let us return to the tower,” she whispered, a hint of apprehension in her voice as she tried to pull the fair-haired girl onward. “I’m…chilled.”
“Come now, tell us of yer conquest,” the other dark-haired girl urged, an eager smile on her face. “After all, ye won the dare and proved us wrong. I never would’ve thought that ye’d have the courage to walk up to Finnegan MacDrummond and steal a kiss.”
Finn’s stomach clenched as the girl’s words sank in. A dare? She had kissed him because of a dare? Nothing more?
“Tell us, did it feel wonderful?” the fair-haired girl pressed, a sigh escaping her lips. “I think I would’ve gone weak in the knees if it had been me.”
Turning her head away, Finn’s brown-eyed enigma brushed a curl behind her ear. “‘Twas a kiss,” she all but bit out, and the harshness cut right through Finn’s tentative hopes. “Nothing more, nothing less. I won. That’s all that matters.” Rubbing her hands together, she beckoned the other two girls onward. “Now, let’s go or I swear my toes shall freeze off.”
Long after they had gone, Finn still stood leaning against the conifer at his back, his eyes closed as he replayed their words in his head. It had been nothing but a dare, and he had been a fool to think more of it. To think that there had been something between them, a silent bond that had brought them to this place the way his father had often spoken of the day he had first laid eyes on Finn’s mother.
As a child, Finn had often listened to his father tell this story, his words ringing with promise that one day Finn would find the same, a woman who was his other half, a woman he would recognise instantly, who would steal his breath and claim his heart.
And for a short moment, Finn had thought to have found her…and it had stunned him into speechlessness.
If only he had known from the beginning that their encounter had meant nothing to her. Nothing more but a claimed prize. A victory. A dare won.
Cursing under his breath, Finn spun on his heel and before he knew it his fists collided with the trunk of the conifer. Pain shot up his arm and into his shoulder, and blood welled up from the scrapes on his knuckles where the hard bark had cut through his skin.
Still, the pain in his heart far exceeded any physical discomfort he felt. How dare she kiss him? Before today, he had been happily oblivious to her. He had barely even noticed her. He had been content and at peace.
And now?
Now, he was achingly aware of her. He could still feel her soft touch as though she was right in front of him, and whenever he closed his eyes, he found her dark-brown ones looking into his. What had she done to him?
Would he ever be free of her? Or would he be doomed to carry her with him for the rest of his life?
Anger filled his heart, and Finn knew that he was no longer the same man he had been upon waking that morning.
Everything had changed.
He had changed.
And there was no going back.
How dare she?
Chapter 1
Another Yuletide Season
Seann Dachaigh Tower, Scottish Highlands, December 1808
Seven Years Later
* * *
“Run wee fishies!” Emma called as she chased after five-year-old Niall and his three-year-old sister Blair. “Run or the auld crab will catch ye! Snap! Snap!” Opening her arms wide,
she brought her palms together with a loud clap right beside the little girl’s ear.
Blair shrieked in delight and doubled her efforts to evade Emma’s grasp, her little legs carrying her faster and faster until she reached the other side of the great hall of Seann Dachaigh Tower. Hiding under a large table set up for the yuletide festivities, Niall waved to his sister, beckoning her forward. The moment she fell to her knees and slid under the heavy wooden table, he pulled the end of the table cloth down, hiding them both from sight.
Emma pulled to a halt. “Aw, where did my fishies go?” she pouted, hearing the children giggle from under the table. “I guess I’ll have to go to bed without supper this evening.” Hanging her shoulders, Emma turned and walked back to the arched doorway she and Maggie had been working on before this impromptu chase.
Shaking her head at her children, Maggie laughed, her nimble fingers attaching yet another red bow to the evergreen branch decorating the doorway. “Those little rascals,” she said, a mother’s delight clear in her voice. “Always up to no good.” Then her blue eyes turned to Emma. “And ye are no better. Encouraging them like that.” Again, Maggie shook her head, and yet, the smile on her face spoke of neither reproach nor disapproval.
Emma laughed in return, feeling her heart grow lighter.
With both her parents passed on and no family of her own, the yuletide season always made Emma wistful and brought a deep ache to her heart, a longing for warmth and comfort, love and family.
As though to mock her, Finn walked into the hall in that moment, his tall stature drawing not only her eyes as he spoke to Cormag, now laird of Clan MacDrummond after his father’s passing three years ago. They spoke in hushed tones, and Emma felt her heart torn between pain and delight as it always was when her eyes caught sight of him. Although she had tried her utmost to forget about him, to silence the longing that lived in her heart, it refused to listen, yearning for a man who only ever glared at her.