His Highland Prize
The Clan Sinclair Book Three
Celeste Barclay
His Highland Prize Copyright © 2018 by Celeste Barclay. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by Lisa Messegee, TheWriteDesigner.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Celeste Barclay
Visit my website at www.celestebarclay.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: Nov 2018
Celeste Barclay
ISBN-13 9781730708008
This is novel is dedicated to “Birdie” for twenty plus years of being best friends and her constant encouragement to take one more step, to try again one more day, to reach for one more dream, to write one more book.
~Happy Reading~
Celeste
The Clan Sinclair
Book 0 Their Highland Beginning, Prequel Novella
Liam Sinclair and Kyla Sutherland
FREE
Book Funnel
MyBookCave
Prolific Works
Book 1 His Highland Lass
Mairghread Sinclair and Tristan Mackay
Book 2 His Bonnie Highland Temptation
Callum Sinclair and Siùsan Mackenzie
Book 3 Unmasking His Highland Prize
Alexander Sinclair and Brighde Kerr
Book 4 TBD- Magnus Sinclair and Deirdre Fraser
Book 5 TBD-Tavish Sinclair and Ceit Comyn
The Clan Sinclair
Liam Sinclair m. Kyla Sutherland
b. Callum Sinclair m. Siùsan Mackenzie (SH-IY-oo-san)
b. Thormud Seamus Magnus Sinclair (TOR-mood SHAY-mus)
b. Rose Kyla Sinclair
b. Alexander Sinclair m. Brighde Kerr (BREE-ju KAIR)
b. Tavish Sinclair m. Ceit Comyn (KAIT-ch CUM-in)
b. Magnus Sinclair m. Deidre Fraser (DEER-dreh FRA-zer)
b. Mairghread Sinclair m. Tristan Mackay (Mah-GAID)
b. “Wee” Liam Brodie Mackay
Chapter One
Ijust need to make it to the light. Heavenly Father, please let there be a light over this hill. I canna go much farther. I must go farther. Will there never be a village or a keep nearby? I dinna think I will last much longer. Please, in the name of the Father and all the heavenly saints, just let me find someone who can help me.
Brighde Kerr pushed her sopping wet hair from her eyes as she stumbled onward. She lost her shoes days ago after they had fallen apart while on the run from her pursuers. Her kirtle, which had once been a daffodil yellow was now a murky shade of beige with a ripped sleeve, frayed hem, and at least two holes that she had noticed in the skirts. Brighde ached all over. Her feet were raw from walking and running for nearly two weeks. Her legs protested taking even one more step, and her chest burned from trying to breathe through her efforts and the torrential downpour in which she once again found herself.
Light! I’m sure of it. I can finally see it coming from a keep. Dear God above, please allow me in. I just need---
Brighde slipped as she crested the last hill that kept her from reaching Castle Dunbeath and the Sinclairs. She landed heavily on her knees and rolled a couple of feet before she was able to right herself. She tripped over the torn hem of her gown and almost went head over heels again. The night was so dark that she could not even see the hand she raised in front of her. Only the brief flashes of lightning told her she was still headed in the right direction. The sound of thunder had long since drowned out the crash of the waves she had used to guide her along the coast. The light she did see was merely a faint haze, but it was enough to drive her onward.
Stumbling and weaving like someone who had been at a barrel of whisky for too long, she made her way forward. As the keep came into focus more clearly, she could just make out the faintest of movements on the wall walk. She tried to call out, but her voice was hoarse from lack of use and lack of water.
“Who goes?” called one of the guardsmen from above.
She opened her mouth again and could only mouth the word help. No sound came from her. She took two more faltering steps before falling to her knees.
“Sir Alexander! There’s a woman at the gate! She looks to be in a right state. Do we let her in?”
Alexander Sinclair, the second son of Laird Liam Sinclair, moved to the front of the battlements closest to the gate. He leaned far over the wall to see but could only, barely, make out what looked like a rock that he knew had never been there before. And now, the rock shifted. As a crack of lightning illuminated the shifting mass, Alex caught sight of hair that was so fair that it was almost white. It glowed around the woman like a halo. Alex could not help but shake his head and rub his eyes. The huddled woman leaned back and looked up at the wall. Another flash of lightning made it possible for him to see part of her face and that her mouth moved. He could not see all her face, nor could he make out what she was saying, but she clearly needed help. Highland hospitality required that they let her in, but more than that, something about her called to Alexander.
He made his way as quickly and carefully as he could down the slick stairs calling out for the gatekeeper to raise the portcullis. By the time he made it down, the gate had risen high enough for him to bend down and pass through. He jogged over to the woman, wary in case of a trap. When he reached her, Brighde was kneeling but nearly unable to keep her head up. She swayed as she had no energy left to fight the wind that rattled the windows and made her teeth clack together as she shivered. Alex sat on his haunches as he looked at the woman. Brighde looked into Alex’s eyes and thought she was seeing an angel.
“Am I dead now after all of this? Which clan are ye?” she croaked.
“Sinclairs. Who are ye, lass? What are ye doing out here alone in this gale?” Alex could not resist the urge to reach out and brush away the hair that was plastered to her face. The light from the wall walk made it only slightly easier for him to see her. As he moved her hair away, she pitched forward as her eyes rolled back. Alex caught her against his chest and could feel the tremors that shook her slight frame. He could feel how her sodden clothes clung to her. He leaned her back slightly and supported her with his knee. Her lashes fluttered briefly.
The last words she managed to squeeze out were, “help me, please. Help.” With that, her eyes shut again. Alex was not sure if she lived or just died in his arms. He pressed his head forward and rested his ear against her lips. When he felt the soft puff of air, he felt himself shudder with relief. He lifted Brighde into his arms and ran back to the gate. As he rushed into the bailey, he began calling orders.
“Someone fetch Hagatha! Go for the healer. I dinna care what she is doing. Unless she’s delivering a bairn or sewing someone shut, she’s to come to the keep. Now!” he bellowed.
Alex sprinted up the stairs leading to the massive doors that would allow him entrance into the Great Hall. He had to shift Brighde slightly to free a hand to open the door and then used his shoulder to nudge it open. He was relieved when the wind helped him push it wide. He ran across the Great Hall once again calling out orders.
“Elspeth! Elspeth! Bring something warm to drink! Someone bring up the tub.”
/> When he reached the stairs, he took them two and three at a time. He did not give a second thought to where he was taking her. He jogged down to the door of his chamber and shouldered that open too. He left the door wide open in his hurry to get her somewhere warm and safe. He gently laid her on his bed and turned to stoke the fire. After the flames began to blaze, he rushed back to the bed. He thought to remove her shoes and stockings, but only then did he realize she was not wearing any. He could see that her ankles were swollen, and when he looked at her soles, he almost retched. They looked like someone had carved into them. Some of the cuts were so deep that they had become infected. There were scratches across the top of her feet, and he could see the beginnings of some that reached up her calf. He once again lifted her into his arms and moved to the chair in front of the fire. With his foot hooked around the leg, he pulled the chair as close to the fire as he dared.
He had just settled into the chair when Hagatha bustled into the room with Laird Liam Sinclair on her heels. Alexander could barely spare a glance at either as he intently stared down at the unconscious form in his arms. Absentmindedly, he rubbed circles on her back in hopes of warming her even a little bit.
“She collapsed in ma arms after asking where she was. When I told her, she thanked God and then shut her eyes. They havenae opened since.” He continued to stare at her intently. With the light of the fire and her hair out of the way, Alex could finally completely see her face. She was lovely. Beautiful.
She may well be the finest woman I have ever seen. What could have befallen her that she turns up on our doorstep in this weather and in this condition?
Alex took in her features. Her eyes were slightly wide apart and tilted up at the corners like a cat. Her button nose was straight and proportionate to her face. Her mouth had full lips and was wide as well. Her individual features might not have been the mark of beauty, but when put together, she was exceptionally good looking. Alexander had been right in his estimation of her hair. It was like wet spun flax. Parts were so light that they almost looked white. Her skin was nearly alabaster, but he suspected that was more from her current condition than her true coloring. She had a light smattering of freckles that led him to think she usually spent time in the sunshine.
“Did she say who she was? Or why she was traveling alone so far north?” Laird Sinclair asked.
“Nay. I told ye all that she said. I dinna see aught plaid, so I dinna ken her clan. She didna even say her name.” Alex still had not looked up, so he could not see the speculative look on his father’s face. “She just asked for help.”
Alexander was the most serious of all of Laird Sinclair’s five children. Only his daughter, Mairghread, could sometimes match his reserve. None of his other three sons were quite as introverted as Alexander tended to be. To see him now, with worry and concern etched across his face, Liam Sinclair knew that this was no passing fancy. Alex was never fickle about women and generally gave them only a passing glance. The Sinclair knew his son to be like any other healthy young man, but he did not chase women as Callum and Tavish did. His youngest son, Magnus, did not have to chase women as they seemed more apt to chase him. The laird watched Alexander’s gentleness with the unknown lass. He watched as his son unfastened the extra length of plaid from his shoulder and wrapped their mystery guest in it as they awaited the tub that had just been brought in to be filled. His eyes shifted to the pair of bare feet that stuck out from the clearly destroyed gown. He noticed that the material was finer quality, or at least had been once upon a time. He did not need to move closer to see the damage that had been done to her feet. He wondered what could have made their guest travel so far as to injure herself so badly. The one thing he knew about her, at this point, was that she must have a will of steel to have traveled so far, alone, and in what had to be excruciating pain. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth as he thought to himself, and so another one has found a match that will be a challenge, but that only makes the reward all the sweeter.
Alexander finally looked up and scowled when he saw the smile playing around his father’s mouth.
“I dinna think there is much to grin at here. She could vera well die, and we dinna even ken what name to put on the headstone.”
“Ye dinna need to be so morbid, Alex. Ye were always such a grim child,” Hagatha stated as she moved about the room. The older woman was the head of the household and had been with the Sinclairs since well before he was born. Alex looked over his shoulder and could see that there were drying linens stacked on the bed next to a flannel nightgown and two extra plaids. “Ye and the laird can step out now. The women and I will take care of her.” When Alex did not make a move, Hagatha put her hands on her hips. “Ye canna vera well stay here. We need to give her a warm bath to get her blood pumping.”
Alex looked from the unconscious form in his arms, to the women standing around the room, to his father, and back to the tangled and freezing mass in his arms. If he had not felt her shivering so badly, he was not entirely sure he would have released her. He could not figure out why he had such an overwhelming need to hover and ensure her wellbeing. He knew himself well enough to know that it was not a pretty face that drew him. He had seen plenty of them in his lifetime. No, it was something entirely different. There was an energy that radiated from her even in her current position. He could not help but admire the fortitude he knew was needed to endure what she clearly had. He was concerned that there was far more to worry about than what they could currently see.
“Give her here and be gone with ye.” Hagatha made a shooing motion with her hands as she reached for the woman. If it had been anyone else who spoke to him in such a way, they would not have lasted long in the Sinclairs’ employ, but Hagatha was like a much loved and very revered older aunt. She was as much a part of the family as any servant could be. Alexander trusted her with his life, and so he finally stood with the woman and entrusted Hagatha with her. Two other women came forward to help support the limp body.
“I will let ye ken as soon as she is respectable again. Dinna fash, lad.” Hagatha patted his arm and turned back to work. Alexander reluctantly walked to the door and followed his father out.
“Is there a reason that ye brought her to yer chambers instead of taking her to one of the guest chambers?”
“I didna give it any real thought. I just wanted to get her warm and dry as quickly as I could. I didna want to wait to take another flight of stairs and wait for a fire to be lit.”
“Ye could have taken her to Mairghread’s chamber.”
“Nae, Callum has laid claim to it.” This made the Sinclair raise an eyebrow. “He doesnae want to be reminded of the arse he was in front of Siùsan.”
This made the Sinclair chuckle as he nodded his head.
“Besides, none of the fires have been lit in the other chambers now that Mairghread lives at the Mackay keep with Tristan, and with the others chasing after Siùsan.” At this, he could not contain his own chuckle, “none of their chambers have been warmed either. It just seemed logical to take her to mine.”
Liam Sinclair looked at a face that was so like his. Chestnut hair framed an angular face with a strong jaw and straight nose. Deep brown eyes, level with his own, looked back at him. He almost shook his head as he realized just how grown up all his children were. Mairghread was married and lady of her own keep and clan. Callum, God willing and with some common sense, would be married to Siùsan soon too. It seemed that all his children were not really children anymore.
“Do as ye think is right, for now. Once she’s even a mite better, she’ll need to be moved to her own chamber. She doesnae need to begin her stay with us with a tarnished reputation.”
“Aye, Da.”
Liam Sinclair began to walk towards the stairs down to the Great Hall and his solar, but he looked back when he noticed he was walking alone. Alexander simply shook his head and slid down the wall. He stretched out his long legs, crossed his arms, and tilted his head back against the wall.
There was no point in arguing; Alexander was not going anywhere.
Alexander would have sworn his last penny that he waited hours before the door to his chamber opened, but he knew that it had to have been less than one. There was a startled gasp from one of the servants as she almost tripped over Alexander’s legs which were currently a roadblock to her exit. He pulled his legs in and sprang up. At his height of six and a half feet, he could clearly see over the heads of the women who were trying to leave. He saw Hagatha tucking the blankets high around the woman’s shoulders. Aileen, the healer, who came shortly after Alex took up camp outside his door, was slowly spooning a liquid between her patient’s cracked lips. Alex looked around the room and saw that all the linens and soaps and whatever else women used had been cleared away. The sodden and ruined clothes that their mystery guest arrived in were in a basket near the fire. Steam was rising off them, but he wondered if they were just destined for a fire somewhere else. There seemed to be little left to salvage. His eyes returned to the woman who was sleeping so deeply in his bed. He had never brought a woman to his chambers rather preferring to have his liaisons elsewhere. The men of the Sinclair clan were known for their steadfast loyalty, and within the laird’s family that always extended to their wives. He had never had any desire to bring a woman to his chambers as he believed it was a space reserved for the wife he would one day have. Seeing the blonde hair strewn across his pillow was somewhat a surprise after having so assuredly avoided sharing his bed with anyone.
I amnae sharing ma bed with her. She is in ma bed, and I am here near the door. She can have it for as long as necessary. It’s Highland hospitality and naught more.
His Highland Prize (The Clan Sinclair Book 3) Page 1