The Highlander’s Demand

by Wine, Mary

  The Highlander’s Demand

  Highland Rogues, Book 1

  Mary Wine

  © Copyright 2019 by Mary Wine

  Text by Mary Wine

  Cover by Wicked Smart Designs

  Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

  P.O. Box 7968

  La Verne CA 91750

  ceo@dragonbladepublishing.com

  Produced in the United States of America

  First Edition November 2019

  Kindle Edition

  Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.

  All Rights Reserved.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  License Notes:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for you and given as a gift for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If this book was purchased on an unauthorized platform, then it is a pirated and/or unauthorized copy and violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do not purchase or accept pirated copies. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. For subsidiary rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

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  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Mary Wine

  Highland Rogues Series

  The Highlander’s Demand

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Publisher’s Note

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Mary Wine

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Lindsey land…

  Winter had lost its grip on the land.

  Rhedyn paused to take a deep breath. She held it in as she smiled. Her nose wasn’t freezing for the first time in months. The sun had set hours before but the fringed days of winter were gone. It was still chilly enough to see her sister Bree hugging her airside close as she stood on the back steps which led from the kitchens down to the yard.

  “Father isn’t back yet,” Bree said before Rhedyn spoke.

  Her sister was still young, just fourteen winters now. Womanhood had yet to settle on her.

  “He said he’d return tonight,” Bree insisted.

  “Father is likely at the Sow’s Troth,” Rhedyn remarked as she moved up beside her sister. “And ye know it. So ye should no’ be out here looking up the road as though his fate is uncertain.” Rhedyn hugged her sister. “Let him enjoy some ale with his men.”

  “Connor is here, and Kain,” Bree protested. “I am not being foolish.”

  The two Lindsey Retainers offered Rhedyn a nod before they returned their attention to watching the back gate. There were also men posted along the walls which formed the outer walls of the Lindsey stronghold. Bree was the laird’s daughter. So as long as she was on the back steps, more of the Lindsey Retainers would make certain she was watched.

  “Father has plenty of drink here,” Bree continued. “Why does he stop at the Sow’s Troth whenever he ventures out?”

  Connor and Kain both shifted. One rocked back on his heels as the other rolled his shoulders. Rhedyn felt a touch of heat on her own cheeks as her sister unwittingly touched on a very inappropriate topic.

  “Father enjoys hearing the news from other travelers,” Rhedyn remarked. She cupped her sister’s shoulders. “Enough watching the road. Father will be here by sunrise, have no doubt. And he will not be happy to see dark circles beneath yer eyes.”

  Rhedyn turned her sister around and gently pushed her toward the entrance to the kitchens. Another Retainer was there, surveying what the Head-of-House had left out for the men on night watch. He reached up and tugged on the corner of his cap when he saw the two women crossing through.

  Rhedyn kept herself from sighing as she made her way to her room. She knew what the Sow’s Troth was. Located on the crossroads where Lindsey, Mackenzie, and Munro lands met, the tavern was a place where clans mingled. She wouldn’t go so far as to say it was friendly interaction, but the Retainers from the different clans minded their manners because they didn’t want to be barred from the services the tavern had for hire.

  Bree was correct. There was ale and drink aplenty in the Lindsey stronghold. But there were not women the Lindsey laird might bed without the rest of the clan knowing about it.

  Her sister was too young to know of such things. Rhedyn wasn’t sure just what age she’d been when she’d deduced the truth of the Sow’s Troth herself, but it mattered little. Her mother was long dead, and her father wasn’t interested in wedding again—so why shouldn’t he seek comfort in the arms of a woman when he needed to?

  It was just the way things were, and Rhedyn couldn’t really find it in her heart to think badly about her father. She discovered herself thinking more and more of just how difficult it might be to live in loneliness.

  Stop thinking the worst…

  It was wise advice. Rhedyn rolled onto her side on her bed and tried to get her thoughts to settle. Rolfe Munro had come to court her. And she didn’t doubt he’d come again.

  She opened her eyes and stared across her chamber. The window shutters were closed against the chill of the night, but she knew where everything was even in the darkness. The room was where she had lived her entire life. There was a comfort inside it that she felt being shaken by the approach of her twenty-second birthday.

  It was time to wed.

  Her father had no sons. As his eldest daughter, her future marriage was one of great importance to the Lindsey clan. For heaven’s sake, she’d been reared with the knowledge that her wedding would be about the alliance it brought the clan.

  So why was she so torn over the issue now?

  Rolfe was fine enough to look upon. She could find no fault with the man. He’d come and spent two days under her father’s roof when he might have simply gone to her father’s study and sealed the arrangement with her waiting somewhere for the announcement to be made.

  So why did she feel so discontented?

  Why did she suddenly have a deeper understanding of her father’s need to visit the Sow’s Troth?

  Sinful…

  Without a doubt,
Rhedyn knew many would admonish her for admitting she knew the Sow’s Troth had women for hire there.

  Well, she wasn’t a lackwit. At least in her bedchamber, she didn’t have to appear like one. In public, well, she’d kept her mouth shut. Not because it was expected of her. No, Rhedyn would mind her tongue on the subject because she suddenly understood just how little affection there might be in her own marriage. Not because her intended groom was callous, but fate simply hadn’t bestowed any affection between them.

  Fate was such a fickle beast.

  *

  The Sow’s Troth…

  The ale was flowing. The loud booms of laughter confirmed it. Sandra Lindsey contemplated the large common room with a knowledgeable eye. Retainers from three different clans were represented at the long tables. Tonight, they appeared to be men who knew the house rules.

  Her rules.

  There was no grumbling, and they kept their animosity confined to the games of dice and cards they were engaged in. Sandra nodded approvingly before pointing to ten women waiting for her instruction. The moment she motioned them toward the common room, they picked up pitchers and glided forward. Their bodices were cut a bit lower than the respectable women of the village, and Sandra’s patrons smiled with appreciation.

  The women made slow progress between the tables. They lingered over each cup they filled, allowing the men in front of them a good look at their cleavage. While they all wore linen caps on their heads, their hair flowed down from beneath those head coverings.

  Sandra didn’t run a common whore house. Oh yes, she was a madam, but she considered herself a woman who lived her life according to arrangements that she made for herself.

  Freedom.

  She’d had a husband once. One who had used her as he pleased, when he pleased, and satisfying her had never been something he’d concerned himself with.

  Now, when she allowed a man to take her to bed, he knew he’d better see to her needs or it would be the last time he was welcomed into her establishment.

  “Evening, lass,” Colum Lindsey spoke from the top of the stairs. He’d venture no further until she granted him permission.

  The two burly men she kept well fed and near at all times would see to it.

  “Colum,” Sandra purred. “’Tis good to see ye.”

  Sandra gestured her guards away. Colum tilted his head to one side and offered her a wink. There was still a hint of a spark in his eyes, even if there were winkles from age on the side of his face.

  “Ye knew I’d come, woman,” Colum admonished her softly. “I’m helpless against yer allure.”

  “Hush,” Sandra said as she patted the place next to her on the end of the bed she sat on.

  Abovestairs there were only beds. Her girls only served one client a night. The men below in the common room understood they’d need more than silver to win one of the beauties’ favors. Colum settled next to her, and she smiled as she caught the scent of his skin. He was freshly bathed, a hint of rosemary clinging to him.

  A courtesy her husband had certainly never afforded her.

  Sandra banished the memory. She turned and offered her full attention to Colum.

  Her lover.

  Oh yes. Label her scandalous, and she would smile proudly for respectability had never rewarded her with happiness.

  So, she’d take a different path. One of her own choosing.

  *

  Iain Mackenzie had heard of the Sow’s Troth. He rode into the village at the crossroads, desire making his member stiff.

  He paused outside the tavern, taking note of the well-kept look of the place.

  “Appears to live up to its name, lads,” Iain declared as his men clustered around him. “Let’s find some entertainment!”

  He charged up the steps. Iain pushed the doors open and grinned when he got a glimpse of the women pouring ale. He rubbed his hands together as he looked each one over. A blonde caught his eyes, but she turned away instead of venturing over to serve him.

  He stood for a long moment in the open doorway. A man came forward, wearing an apron. “Welcome, welcome. Would ye have a seat?”

  Iain grunted. But he walked over to a table and sat on one of the long benches. Several of his men joined him. He didn’t give any attention to the men who had elected to stay with the horses. Let them nurse their righteous principles. All the more ale and flesh for him to enjoy.

  “Send the blonde over,” Iain ordered.

  “If one of our mistresses finds ye to her liking, she will venture forward,” the man said in a low voice.

  Iain reached up and grabbed a handful of his shirtsleeve. “This is a whorehouse. Send the bitch over here now.”

  The man surprised him by breaking his grip. “Ye have been misinformed. We run a tavern. With well-known hospitality.”

  Iain frowned. But across the room, he spied one of the women leading a man toward the stairs. “Do nae lie to me, man!”

  The man held up a finger. “Allow me to bring ye a fine supper. Perhaps after ye have filled yer bellies, ye will be more inclined to entice one of our mistresses to invite ye abovestairs.”

  “Entice?” Iain asked. He kicked the bench back and faced off with the stranger. “I do nae intend to woo a whore! Order that bitch over here now.”

  The man shook his head.

  “Take yerself over to the edge of town if ye want that sort of thing.”

  Iain turned his head, looking for the man who had spoken. When their gazes connected, the man didn’t look away. He sat his mug down and stood up, revealing the colors of the Munro.

  “A whore is a whore,” Iain declared.

  “Then why are ye here and no at the edge of town?” the Munro Retainer asked bluntly. “The whores down there cost a tenth of what ye’ll end up paying here. The Sow’s Troth only has courtesans.”

  “Courtesans?” Iain spat. This time the girls pouring the ale took exception to his tone. They looked at him. “Ye are whores,” he informed them all.

  A moment later, the women turned and walked back to the kitchen without a single word. The men at the long tables abandoned their conversations and dice games, turning to glare at him. More Munro Retainers rose up to back the man who Iain had taken issue with.

  “Stop ruining the night for us all,” the Munro Retainer said. “The Sow’s Troth caters to a man who wants more than a quick rutting.”

  “I’ve no’ even begun to ruin yer night,” Iain declared as he curled his fingers into a fist. “But I will be happy to smash yer jaw for ye.”

  “Enough,” Colum Lindsey said from the stairs. A ripple of agreement went through the common room. “Iain Mackenzie. We’ve heard plenty from ye. Take yerself off to the edge of town.”

  “Ye may be laird of the Lindsey, but I am the son of a laird as well,” Iain declared.

  Colum nodded. “I know who ye are. But in this place, we all keep the peace. It’s an understanding, lad. One which seems to be escaping ye. So, go to the edge of town where the rules will suit ye better.”

  Colum turned and disappeared up the stairs. Iain growled, earning a chuckle from the Munro Retainer who was still standing. Iain turned his ire on the man, but the Retainer only turned his back and sat down again.

  “Ye are all a bunch of cockless bastards!” Iain said. “Sitting here, begging for a taste of a whore’s sex. Real men use the night for raiding.”

  Iain stormed out of the tavern and a moment later, the sound of horses riding away filled the place.

  *

  Colum Lindsey had almost made it back to the top of the stairs. He stopped though, Iain’s words echoing in his head. He caught the scent of Sandra’s perfume, which made him mutter a coarse word as he turned and descended to the common room floor.

  “Seems we need to leave, lads,” Colum spoke firmly. “In case that bastard makes good on his words.”

  There was a mutter of discontentment, but tankards landed on the table tops as the men all began to stand. Sandra was at the railing of the lo
ft, looking on as her customers paid for their ale. Colum looked up at her and reached up to tug on his cap before he turned and ventured into the night. Iain Mackenzie was going to get the fight he was looking for if the bastard made the mistake of stepping foot onto Lindsey land.

  And that was a bloody promise.

  *

  There was just a sliver of moon tonight.

  Rolfe Munro slowly smoothed a hand along the neck of his stallion. He watched the animal’s ears, looking for any sign of trouble.

  A low whistle came through the darkness, but Rolfe knew it for one of his men. There was a slight crunch from their steps as more of his Retainers joined him.

  “Thought ye’d gone to the Sow’s Troth,” Rolfe said.

  “We did,” Donnach Munro replied. “Iain Mackenzie ruined the night by declaring he was going raiding.”

  Rolfe’s shoulders tightened. “Did young Mackenzie say just where he was going raiding?”

  “No,” Donnach answered. “But we cut the evening short in case he finds his way onto Munro land.”

  The stallion’s ears moved. Rolfe looked up in the direction the horse had turned its ears toward. In the distance, there was a flash of light. It danced and flickered as it grew into a large fire.

  “Damn his soul,” Donnach declared. “The prick really did go raiding.”

  Rolfe mounted his horse and wheeled the animal around in the direction of the growing fire. “He’s made the last mistake of his life.”

  “It’s Iain Mackenzie,” Donnach cautioned Rolfe. “As it stands, ye are both sons of lairds. Neither of ye outranking the other.”

  “He’s raiding me land,” Rolfe responded heatedly. “Being brother to the Makenzie laird will no’ stop me from protecting what is Munro.”

  Rolfe spurred his horse forward. Maybe he should have spared a thought for the fact that Iain was the half-brother of the current Mackenzie laird, but as he got closer and heard the cries of Munros suffering through a raid, he closed his heart to any thoughts of mercy.