Every Highland Sin: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance

by Kenna Kendrick

  As he looked at her, Luke was starting to see a picture emerging. Aileas was not old. He doubted she had yet to see her twenty-first summer. But she had lived abroad for seemingly, most of her life. The fact that she could speak French fluently and captained a French pirate ship attested to the fact that she had been around them extensively for much of her life. She didn’t just stumble onto the ship. She must have been groomed for the role from a very young age.

  “Ye can tell yer lord that he’ll have nay trouble from me,” she said. “I’m nae aimin’ tae be reavin’ and plunderin’ his shoreline.”

  “Yer nae?”

  She shook her head. “Nae much sport in it,” she said, flashing him a grin. “Besides, the plunder’s a lot better along thae Mediterranean.”

  Luke studied her for a long moment. He could see a myriad of emotions on her face and knew at that moment that her being here was a serious matter for her and that whatever she was getting herself into was more significant than she either knew or was willing to admit. And Luke was suddenly anxious for her.

  “I daenae ken what ye’re gettin’ into, but if ye need help… I’ll dae whatever I can tae aid ye,” he said.

  She gave him a small smile that slipped into a frown. “I appreciate thae offer, but I’ve got tae handle this on me own.”

  He nodded. Luke hadn’t expected anything less, but he suddenly felt very protective of her and made a silent vow that he would help Aileas… whether she wanted him to or not.

  Chapter Seven

  “Ye told him yer real name? Have ye gone bleedin’ mad, lass?”

  She looked to Dand and frowned. She knew telling Luke her real name had been risky. But there was something about him she trusted. Something that made her like him and want to believe that he would keep her secret. He seemed like a good man who believed in honor and his oath.

  “He kent I lied about me name,” she said. “He kent I was a bleedin’pirate. Even knew they called me La Renarde de la Mer.”

  “How did he ken that?”

  She shook her head. “I daenae. All he said was that Sowkirk’s a small town, which is true enough,” she said. “All it’d take is for thae wrong word tae find thae wrong ear…”

  She let her voice trail off, not needing to finish the sentence. It was obvious enough. Dand nodded but looked worried. He turned to her.

  “Dae ye think they ken who ye are?” he asked. “Who ye really are? Aside from thae lad and now probably his lord.”

  She shook her head. “I daenae ken. I hope nae.”

  “If they dae, this may all be for nothin’.”

  “Then let’s hope they daenae.”

  They sat on their horses, shadowed and hidden at the edge of the woods atop a hill that overlooked Bruce Pringle’s keep. There was a tall curtain wall that surrounded it, with high peaked towers at all four corners. The southern wall backed up to the ocean, making it easier to defend.

  As Aileas took it all in, thoughts of Luke kept intruding, making it all but impossible for her to concentrate. She drew an absolute comfort from him. Just being around him at the market yesterday had lent her a sense of calm she hadn’t felt since before she set foot on the shores of Sowkirk. It was a calm she usually only felt when she was out on the water.

  “Ye need tae get thae lad out of yer head,” Dand said.

  “He’s nae in me head.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her, a faint smile curling his lips. “Aye. He is.”

  “And how would ye ken that, eh? You becomin’ a bleedin’ mind reader or somethin’?

  Dand laughed. “I daenae need tae be a mind reader when ye make it so easy.”

  “What are ye goin’ on about then?”

  “When ye think of thae lad, ye get this smile on yer face,” he said. “Ye look like ye’re under a spell or somethin’.”

  “I daenae,” she almost shouted, feeling her cheeks flare with heat.

  “Aye, ye dae,” he chuckled. “I swear it on all I hold holy.”

  “Ye hold nothin’ holy.”

  “Well, that’s nae true,” he replied with a laugh.

  Aileas turned back to the keep below them and did her best to push all thoughts of Luke out of her head. She couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. With so much hanging in the balance, Aileas knew she needed to be focused and clear-headed.

  I cannae understand how this lad I barely ken has such an impact on me. What kind of spell has he cast on me?

  “So what are ye thinkin’?” Dand asked.

  She shook her head. “I daenae ken yet,” she said. “Other than there’s a lot more men down there than I thought there would be.”

  Dand grunted and looked away. From their vantage point, they watched as dozens of soldiers trained in the bailey. Wains full of supplies moved in and out of the keep. It was all the ordinary business of a household. She turned to her cousin.

  “Doesnae look as weak as ye thought,” she said.

  He cleared his throat and shifted in his saddle, looking slightly abashed. Dand looked from her down to the keep below.

  “Aye. He must’ve brought in some sellswords,” he said. “Maybe some conscriptions.”

  “Good thing we dinnae go chargin’ in their blind,” she grinned, twisting that dagger even deeper.

  He flashed her a grin. “Aye. Suppose so.”

  “We need tae come up with a plan.”

  He nodded. “Agreed,” he replied. “I daenae suppose yer lad can help us, eh?”

  “He’s nae me lad.”

  Dand arched his eyebrow, a faint smile playing upon his lips. “Are ye sure about that?”

  “Of course, I’m sure,” she snapped.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Ye did tell him yer name and all.”

  “Are ye ever goin’ tae let that go?”

  “Nae likely,” he teased. “Nae as long as I keep seein’ that smile ye got on yer face right now.”

  “Shut it, or I’m goin’ tae beat ye bloody.”

  They laughed together softly for a moment, but Aileas’ eyes continued to scan the keep below them, a sinking feeling in her heart. It was going to be far more complicated than she had first envisioned it would be. Deep down, Aileas had never truly believed this day would come. And now that it was here, she felt overwhelmed. Seeing the men down in the bailey, training to kill, reminded her once again of the very real stakes they were facing. The fact that people - some men she didn’t know - could die based on her decisions terrified her.

  Out on the sea, it was different. She felt in control on the Selkie. She rarely felt overwhelmed, and she never felt as terrified as she did at that moment. On the deck of the Selkie, Aileas was in command of everything. But standing there on the hill, she realized how different it was and how little control she actually had. Daunting wasn’t close to the right word.

  But it was her birthright. And the man responsible for taking that away from her, for taking everything away from her, was down there behind those high, thick walls. She’d vowed to kill him all those years ago, and no matter how scared she was, no matter how daunting the task, she was going to see it through. If she died in the effort, she would kill Bruce Pringle.

  She was going to be smart about it, though. She would not needlessly let others die to settle her own personal vendetta. She would plan carefully. She would use her brain and not get swept up in her emotions. It was what Logan had taught her all those years ago, lessons ingrained in her head that have served her well throughout her life and her career as a privateer.

  “Bruce dinnae have this many men when I sent for ye,” Dand said, sounding apologetic.

  “I believe ye,” she replied.

  “He kent he was weak,” he growled. “Only reason he’s got sellswords in his keep.”

  Aileas nodded. “Aye. But tis what either of us would dae in his place.”

  Dand grunted again. “Aye,” he admitted grudgingly. “Probably so.”

  “We’ll figure out how tae beat his defenses.”


  “Think so?”

  Aileas nodded. “Aye. I ken so,” she says. “We’ve got a few things he doesnae.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The element of surprise, for one,” she said.

  Dand grunted. “Aye. Tis true.”

  “And we’ve also got me brilliant mind.”

  “Tis only goin’ to be an advantage if ye can keep yer brilliant mind on thae task at hand, and not in yer little lord’s breeches,” he noted.

  Aileas scoffed… but felt her cheeks flaring with heat all the same. “Me mind is nae in his breeches.”

  “If ye say so.”

  Aileas cleared her throat. “Come. We’ve got plannin’ tae start.”

  As they rode off the hill, Aileas’s mind was swirling with thoughts and strategies about how to get through all of those men and to Bruce while at the same time minimizing the losses to her own people.

  And woven through it all were thoughts of Luke that filled her entire body with a warmth that wasn’t unpleasant.

  Chapter Eight

  Clan Pringle

  The man stopped at the sallyport at the curtain wall. He looked into the bailey beyond, watching the hustle and bustle inside for a moment. He glanced up and saw men patrolling the parapet above him, a thick, greasy feeling roiling around in his belly like a nest of oily snakes had taken up residence inside of him. He fought back the waves of nausea that welled up within him.

  Two guards were standing at the sallyport. They were large men in dark breeches, dark, boiled leather cuirass’, and silver helms standing watch. They both wore long swords on their hips and held halberds. His gaze was fixed on the curved axe edge atop the long pole. It glittered dully in the dim light of the day.

  “And what dae ye want, mate?” said the first guard, a short, burly man with dark hair and cold, hard eyes.

  “I - I came tae speak with yer master. I have information for Master Pringle,” he said.

  “Ye can give it tae me, and I’ll pass it along,” he said.

  The man shook his head. “Nay. I’ll only be passin’ it along tae yer master.”

  He cut a glance at the other guard. He was leaning against the wall casually, snacking on an apple.

  “Mebbe ye dinnae hear me,” the first guard said. “I told ye that ye can give yer message tae me, and I’ll pass it on.”

  “Nay. I heard ye,” the man said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “But yer master’s payin’ for this information, and I aim tae get meself paid.”

  The guard chuckled and drank deeply from a wineskin and looked over at the other guard. The guard gestured to him.

  “Can ye believe this bleedin’ arse?” he says to the other guard.

  The man eating the apple shrugged. “Ye cannae blame him for tryin’ tae get paid. Ye’d dae thae same thing.”

  The guard turned back to him, a scowl on his face. He was clearly trying to decide whether he’d be able to beat the information out of the man and get himself paid. After a moment, though, he decided it wouldn’t be worth the effort or the potential trouble it might cause. He motioned for the man to put his arms up.

  “Need tae make sure ye’ve nae got any weapons,” he said.

  The man complied and held his arms up as the guard frisked him. The man could have told him he was not carrying a blade. He’d never been one for fighting, to begin with, and had never learned a blade. Some thought him a coward. He merely considered himself prudent and clever. He knew where his weaknesses were and always played to his strengths. And he’d always found that information was more powerful and dangerous than a weapon anyway. At least, in his experience.

  When the guard was finished with his pat-down, he gestured to a portly, gray-haired older woman to come over.

  “Take him tae Bruce,” he said.

  She nodded, then turned and walked away, obviously expecting him to fall into step behind her, which he did. She was surprisingly quick and had better stamina than he did for being a woman who carried extra weight. The man looked around as they walked, observing the activities in the bailey. To his left were the stables. Several men were there, brushing down, and caring for the horses.

  To the right were what looked like soldier’s barracks. There were men at arms training and sparring. He wasn’t any sort of an expert when it came to marital affairs, but to him, it looked like these men were preparing for a fight.

  “Tis busy around here,” he commented.

  The woman said nothing and continued, stopping just outside the sallyport that led into the keep. She pointed inside and turned to go.

  “Nice talkin’ tae ye.”

  If she heard him, she gave no notice. He rolled his eyes and walked into the keep where he was met by a man in dark breeches and a green tunic belted at the waist—the crest of Bruce’s house on the breast.

  “And who are ye?” he asked, his voice high and nasally.

  “Robert,” he replied. “Robert Abernathy. I’m here to see yer master.”

  “For what then?”

  “To pass along some information he’s goin’ tae want.”

  The man looked Robert up and down, taking his measure, and clearly finding him wanting. Robert didn’t like him one bit.

  “So yer here tae beg for money, eh?” the man said.

  Robert bristled. He did not beg. He’d never begged in his entire life. Robert worked for everything he had, and only through his hard work was he running a thriving business. A blacksmith of some skill and a bit of renown - at least locally - he always did well at the market. There was never any shortage of demand for his blades, shoes for horses, or any of the hundred other things he worked. And he’d done that all on his own. He’d done that with the strength of his back, the power of his hands, and the sweat of his brow. He did not beg.

  “I’m here tae give him an opportunity tae purchase some information,” Robert said.

  “And what is this information?”

  Robert smirked. “Ah, I’ve already played this game with thae guard at thae gate. This information is for Master Pringle’s ears only… and only for a price.”

  The man sniffed loudly, staring down the end of his nose at Robert. He tsked and looked at him like he was something that got stuck to his boot out at the stables. Robert got the feeling this man was going to turn him away and knew he needed to dangle something that would pique Master Pringle’s interest.

  “If Master Pringle has designs on keepin’ control of his keep, his wealth, and thae power he’s accrued, he’s goin’ tae want tae hear what I have tae say,” Robert pressed. “If nae, I’ll take me leave.”

  To put added pressure on, he turned and made to go. As he expected, the man cleared his throat.

  “Wait. Just wait.”

  Robert turned and had to fight to keep the smirk off his face. The man’s expression was even more disgusted than before, but Robert was betting on him being more afraid of turning him away and having something terrible happen. If Master Pringle ever found out this man had turned Robert away - and he would make sure that came to pass - he would be irate, and things would not go well for this man.

  “Come,” he said imperiously.

  Robert followed the man down a long corridor that ended in a pair of tall, rounded oak doors. They let out a sharp squeal as he pushed them open. He stepped inside and looked around at the long, rectangular stone chamber. Tall stone pillars ran the length of the chamber on both sides, and windows with colored glass sat high in the walls.

  At the far end was a dais, and on top of the dais stood a large, ornately carved wooden chair. And on the chair was a tall, broad man with a full head of hair that was more gray than pitch anymore. He had a long, thick beard that was bound with an iron ring. Robert thought Pringle had the look of the savage Northmen that sometimes raided the coastline. The man had a hard edge to him. That man, Robert knew, was a killer. Not somebody to be trifled with.

  Two men stood on the dais with him. They were speaking in low, hushed tones that
echoed around the chamber. Not loud enough for him to make it out, though.

  More’s the pity. Information is power.

  “Approach,” Pringle intoned.

  The two men with him bowed and then departed, their boots thumping hard on the flagstone floor. They cast sidelong glances at him as they passed, clearly finding him as distasteful as the man who’d escorted him to the chamber. He stopped at the foot of the dais, not knowing whether he was expected to bow or what. So he did nothing instead. The man in the green tunic cleared his throat.