Highlander's Hellion Bride: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Highlander's Deceptive Lovers Book 3)

by Adamina Young

  All it took was a second look before the woman’s eyes widened. “Are ye mad?” she hissed. “I know who ye are!”

  Bloody hell, the woman recognizes me! Grace hadn’t even been out of the keep except for her walk here. “I amnae here to cause trouble,” she pleaded. “Please! I just mean to sit quietly and watch.”

  “Ye are the Sinclair sister. I heard rumors of ye and watched ye ride up. Yer eyes give ye away.” The woman sighed. “I’m Maggie. If ye insist on staying, then ye’ll need some ale to blend in, but I warn ye not to drink it. What we have here ‘tis strong stuff, and ye will need yer wits about ye if ye are to pull this off.”

  Grace nodded, and the woman returned a few minutes later with a cup. “Are ye here to spy? Hamish will not be pleased.”

  “Nay, I needed to get away from my brothers for a bit. They have been acting strange. I didnae even want to come to the signing, but Connor insisted, and he has made me swear that I will act like a lady.”

  “Well of course he has. None of the men here want a hellion as a wife!” Maggie laughed. “Although I believe it will probably do them some good.”

  “A wife?” Grace frowned. Why is it that people look at me and only see a position in regard to a man that I havenae even met yet? It is infuriating! “I have no intention of marrying.”

  “I have never known a woman who didnae want to marry. ‘Tis true that I have been dreaming of being a bride since I was just a young girl and watched my aunt marry. The music and the flowers and the ribbons...” Maggie sighed dreamily as she appeared to lose herself in the memory. “But things change.”

  Intrigued, Grace leaned forward. Maggie was so pretty. She found it difficult to believe that the men here weren’t falling over themselves trying to win her affections. “What kinds of things?”

  “My parents died when I was still young. I was sent to live with my aunt, but when I began to mature, her husband started to look at me oddly, and I was kicked out. The laird at the time didn’t have much care for the plights of a young woman, so I had to start working here to survive. I do all right now. I have a small cottage, and most of the men are kind, but no one wants to marry sullied goods.”

  Sullied goods? Grace wanted to ask just what it was about serving alcohol that made her sullied when Creighton Armstrong stood, his chair scraping back with a flourish, and his table fell silent. “Care to make a wager on that?” he asked his companion.

  “A wager on what?” Grace asked softly, but Maggie waved her hand to shush her.

  “Aye, I will make a wager,” his companion, a MacSeaver guard, said as he stood. “A coin that Graeme MacSeaver wins the hand of Lady Grace before the treaty is signed.”

  Immediately, Maggie whipped her head around and shook her head in warning before Grace could say anything. Although it cost her, Grace ground her teeth together and stayed quiet. They were wagering on her? The nerve.

  “Graeme?” Creighton snorted. “The man is far too boring for the hellion Sinclair. I have heard of her exploits. She needs a firm hand to control her. Nay, Connor brought her here for the likes of me, and I will win her hand.”

  A wave of dizziness caught her off guard, and Grace gasped and placed a hand on her stool to steady herself. It wasn’t possible. Her brothers would not dare drag her here to place her on the marriage pedestal! They would know how it would betray her, and they would never do that.

  Would they?

  Unease crept through her. First, there was Connor’s insistence that she come and his need to oversee the dresses that were packed. The constant lectures on the journey over for her to behave herself and reflect well on the Sinclair and the MacKay clans.

  The guard outside her door. The rather angry disposition of her two sisters-in-law. They knew!

  Grace groaned. “I cannae believe it. My brother dragged me here to wed me!”

  “Aye,” Maggie said sympathetically, and Grace groaned. Apparently it was common knowledge to everyone but her.

  The wagers grew louder, and Grace could only listen as her indignation grew. Apparently she was the last to know. Graeme MacSeaver, the two Armstrong brothers, and Theo MacDougal had all come knowing that Connor was attempting to marry her off. From the sounds of the tavern, it was clear that Creighton was the favorite to win.

  “The good news is that ye have a fine handful of men to choose from, and I have heard that yer brothers willnae force yer hand. They expect ye to be wooed. ‘Tis lucky for ye indeed,” Maggie said softly. “All of yer suitors are handsome and powerful.”

  “Wooed, huh? We shall see about that.” Narrowing her eyes, she took a sip of ale and nearly choked on it, not because of the strength but because there was one man that she had somehow overlooked when she’d scanned the patrons of the tavern.

  Hamish Hamilton was here, and he was looking right at her.

  4

  Hamish couldn’t believe his eyes. There was Grace, sitting in the corner dressed in stableboy attire with a large mug of ale in her hand and a large-breasted woman in her face. What the bloody hell was she thinking? Was there a man in this place who wouldn’t recognize that she was no lad?

  “Are ye planning on throwing yer hat in the ring?” Reed asked with a snicker. He and Tavin, his two most trusted guards, were sharing a table with him while the rest of the tavern apparently lost their heads over the idea that Grace was here to choose a husband.

  Privately, Hamish wanted to murder Connor. What was he thinking? This wasn’t about expanding Grace’s knowledge of how the world worked. This was about getting rid of her, and the bloody man was using Hamilton’s treaty to do it.

  “I have no use for the Sinclair Hellion as a wife,” Hamish said quietly while eyeing the woman in question. She’d caught sight of him but was brazenly pretending it didn’t matter. “But if these idiots doonae stop wagering on her, I will decree that none can see her while they are on my lands.”

  “Will ye now?” Amusement twinkled in Tavin’s eyes.

  Hamish shot him a cold look. Whatever they were thinking was dead wrong. Hamish was not jealous or feeling particularly protective of the lass who happened to be seated in the corner and watching with nothing short of shock and rage on her face. No, he simply had more important things to do than to continuously break up fights between the men.

  The tavern door opened, and the fuss died down as someone else entered. From the reactions, Hamish assumed it was one of the Sinclair brothers, but they had both said they were going back to their wives. Hamish turned and tried to keep his frustrations from growing. With Grace trying to disguise herself and the other men betting on her, this was the last thing he needed.

  “Laird Hamilton.” A large man approached him and clapped him on the back. “We didnae get a chance to speak when I arrived. We havenae been properly introduced.”

  Theo MacDougal. Hamish tried not to let his predator instinct shine through as he smiled, but his body tensed, all of his senses on alert. “MacDougal. I know who ye are. I have been looking forward to this for quite some time.”

  A puzzled look crossed the other man’s face, and Hamish was pleased to see that there was no recognition. Not that there should have been. MacDougal no doubt didn’t concern himself with thoughts of his brother’s by-blow and certainly didn’t think that a bastard could elevate himself to the status of a laird. No, MacDougal only thought they were strangers.

  In looks, there was not much to connect them. Hamish was as fair as Theo was dark. He had green eyes to Theo’s blue, although their size and build were remarkably similar. But upon closer inspection, Hamish could see some aspects that were the same. The same square jawline and the same crook in the bridge of their nose.

  Hamish gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to think of them as having anything similar. After all, Theo was the spitting image of their father.

  His earliest memories of his mother, a golden-haired beauty with a soft touch and a beautiful singing voice, was the warning that no good would come of searching for his father,
for powerful men were the downfall of everyone else. It was the only time he ever heard the poisonous spite in her voice. Eventually, as he got older, he learned of his father and of the other son he had sired, his father’s pride and joy.

  When Hamish’s mother passed, he went searching for his father hoping that his mother was wrong. He so desperately wanted to look up to a man. Instead, he watched as Patrick nearly beat a man to death simply for hunting to feed his family, and Theo quietly stood by and let it happen. When Patrick looked up and saw him watching, he turned the whip on Hamish, having no idea that he wasn’t a MacDougal, and threatened to kill him as well. When Hamish cried out his mother’s name, Patrick had grown even crueler. Luckily, Hamish was fast enough to escape. His body broken and his pride hurt, he knew right then and there that his mother was right.

  And he promised her that vengeance would be hers. One day, when he had the power, Patrick MacDougal would pay for what he’d done to her, and he’d make sure that his precious son would never take his place to continue his reign of terror.

  Unfortunately, Patrick was secured behind a formidable fortress, but Theo was right here for the taking.

  “‘Twill be a first for both of us,” Theo said as he lifted his mug. “Though I doonae hope ye think that will make me docile. I intend to look after my people.”

  “Nay, I didnae think ye will be docile. I heard ye are much like yer father.”

  A shadow passed over Theo’s face. “I am here, and he isnae. I hope there arenae too many comparisons between us. Though he holds my respect, I intend to rule as I see fit.”

  So his brother had a backbone after all and was not their father’s puppet. At least, he didn’t think he was their father’s puppet.

  “I am here on additional business. I am sure ye have heard that the Sinclair brothers—or should I say, Sinclair and MacKay—have brought their sister with them.”

  Without meaning to, Hamish glanced in the corner to where Grace was trying desperately to hide from his eyes. If Theo wasn’t standing right there, he had half a mind to drag her out and demand to know what she was thinking, but he didn’t want to ruin the lass’s reputation.

  He could simply tell Connor, who would no doubt lock her safely away.

  “Aye, she is here,” Hamish muttered.

  “The Sinclair laird means to make a match for her while he is here, and I am in need of a wife. I hear she is a hoyden, but I am certain I can take her into hand.”

  Hamish’s stomach twisted, and he jerked his attention back to Theo. He had assumed that like himself, Theo was too busy to take a wife. The last thing he wanted was a marriage alliance between his enemy and the two most powerful clans in the highlands. “Is that what ye think, now?”

  Theo narrowed his eyes. “Doonae tell me that ye intend to woo her as well. I had heard that ye swore off women after Moira turned ye down.”

  Swore off women? Who the bloody hell is spreading lies about me? He had set his sights on Moira to make his transition into power easier, not because he was in love with the lass. In truth, he had wondered if she was to blame for the Sinclair invasion just like the rest of the clan, although he wasn’t fool enough to let his thoughts show. The Hamilton clan was an unforgiving one.

  “Moira and I were not a love match. As I am certain ye feel the same, there is little room for love in our duties. However, Grace Sinclair will secure two powerful alliances. Does she realize that her brothers have brought her here to wed?”

  “That I doonae know. I have yet to make her acquaintance, but her exploits have reached the MacDougal keep. Did ye hear the one where she tried to sneak off with the Sinclair men when they left to overturn Seth MacKay? The lass was only sixteen. God knows I hope that she has come to her senses. I willnae tolerate that kind of behavior on my lands.”

  “If ye want a gentile lady, I suggest ye quit looking at a Scots woman and head to England,” Hamish chuckled. He looked over his shoulder again and groaned.

  The devil in question was gone. She’d recognized him and still stayed on, but Hamish should have realized that she was just biding her time until his attention was diverted to make her move.

  “If ye will excuse me, there is something that I must take care of. I look forward to speaking to ye more.”

  “Aye, especially now that we are neighbors.”

  Hamish stilled for a moment. Neighbors? The MacDougal land was not adjacent to his. It was separated by Loch Moran, which was part of MacSeaver lands. “What do ye mean?” he demanded.

  “I made an offer to purchase the land,” Theo said smugly. “The king has agreed that as long as no bloodshed was spilled over the land transfer, it could be made. MacSeaver couldnae defend it, and I can. The current residents can move across their borders or stay and become part of my clan. I will be spending the next couple of weeks overseeing things after we are through here, so there will be plenty of time for us to become more acquainted. I intend to get to know the Armstrong brothers better, especially Creighton, so there is no bad blood.”

  Neighbors with MacDougal. Hamish could not think of anything that made his stomach curdle more, but first, he had to find Grace before she got herself into trouble. “I look forward to that,” he said through gritted teeth. Was it his imagination, or did Theo flash a satisfied smile just as Hamish turned?

  Unbelievable. Months of setting up this treaty and planning his revenge, and instead of garnering more information, he was chasing after the likes of Grace Sinclair.

  Outside the tavern, Hamish found Grace pulling her cap lower over her head as three of his guards surrounded her. “Hey, lad, ye looking to become a man tonight?” one asked drunkenly. “I hear Maggie is serving tonight. She’ll make a man of ye.”

  Grace didn’t say anything as she tried to step around. The men, not wanting to be ignored, quickly stepped into her path again. Wondering if Grace probably had a blade on her somewhere, Hamish quickly stepped in. “Men!” he growled. “Curb yer antics tonight. We are to show our guests that we can control ourselves, aye?”

  They quickly bowed their heads and mumbled to themselves as they hurried inside before Hamish demanded they return to their chambers. Grace tried to nimbly step around him, but he reached out quickly and snagged her elbow.

  “And where do ye think ye are going, lad?” he asked mildly.

  “Unhand me right now!” Grace demanded as she lifted her chin. “Doonae think that ye can play games with me.”

  “Ye, the one dressed in trousers, are accusing me of playing games?” His gaze darkened. “And what do ye think would have happened if those three men had decided to make a lad of ye? Do ye think they would have recognized ye as a laird’s sister as soon as that cap was gone or yer shirt skewed?”

  “I would think that yer men would know how to treat a woman of any status,” she said coolly.

  “That is not the point!” he snapped. “If someone did recognize ye, they might think ye had yer ears open for either of yer brothers. Ye could start a war.”

  She paled just a little and thrust her chin out. “I have a feeling that no one of yer ilk believes enough in a woman that she might start a war. Now if ye will excuse me, Laird Hamilton, I’ll be off to my room now.”

  “Not without an escort,” he growled. “After ye.”

  She glared at him but turned and marched away. He took a moment to admire how her trousers formed around her derrière before he caught himself and grimaced. He’d just finished lecturing his own men about having some degree of control and here he was, contemplating bedding a virgin in trousers with her two older brothers a short distance away.

  “How did ye even get out of yer room in that getup? I know Connor has a guard outside yer room.”

  “Not that it is any of yer business, but I climbed out the window.”

  “Ye...” For a moment, words failed him. She climbed out of the window? She is on the third floor! “Have ye lost yer mind? Ye could have killed yerself!”

  “But I didnae,” she replied hau
ghtily before she paused. “Cora’s chambers were directly beneath.”

  Hamish could only pray that she already knew that before she launched herself out the window. “Ye willnae be going back that same way,” he muttered to himself, but he had to take care. He didn’t want anyone to know that Grace had been out, or the men would be tripping over themselves looking for her everywhere.

  “Ye seem at ease for someone with representatives from five other clans staying with him,” Grace said finally. Was it his imagination, or was that a note of respect in her voice?

  “‘Tis no point in fretting now,” he admitted. “No one is feuding, and ‘tis in everyone’s best interest to behave. These next few days will say as much as about them as it does about me.”

  “Ye werenae groomed to be a laird. Ye arenae even a Hamilton by birth. Where do ye hail?”

  “Nowhere and everywhere. My earliest memories are with the MacCreevy clan, which was disbanded when their numbers dwindled. My mother worked in a small church with a priest for a number of years, and when she passed, I traveled with him. ‘Twas clear when I began to mature that the church wasnae for me, so I began to travel from clan to clan to train with their warriors. I spent a good deal of time with Duncan MacKay and Jamie Armstrong, God rest them both. I have been with the Hamiltons for five years now, and it suits me.”

  “Ye wanted to be laird?”

  Hamish didn’t answer right away for it was too complicated. The power suited his need for revenge, but he didn’t set out for it. No, the additional responsibilities clouded things for him, but once he realized that the Hamiltons needed a firm hand, he could think of nothing else.

  Now it was one more thing he would be able to hold over his father’s head when he finally got the chance to meet the bastard.