Kidnapped By The Highlander Lord (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Kaley McCormick

  The food stores seemed ample enough, but the clan was large and would need a lot of sustenance through the upcoming winter. Dylan, as the only son of the head of the clan, had been left in charge of the family when his father died. He had shouldered the responsibility well, and the rest of the family seemed agreeable when the authority had landed with him.

  His long legs took huge strides as they approached the barn, and his broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway as he strolled inside. They had been collecting the proceeds of the gardens through the spring and summer, and the fishing off the coast had been fruitful that season. The potatoes would keep for quite a while, most of the vegetables had been pickled for preservation, and the fish was packed in salt for curing. The chickens had been laying well through the warm months, and having them in the barn gave the family a decent chance of eggs through the winter. They would add some basics from the stores in town such as rice and coffee. The winter meals would not be quite as interesting as those from the growing season, however it should be enough to see them through.

  Dylan was an unusual landowner, since he tried his best to look out for the peasants that surrounded his estate. He did not offer much from their own stores, but he tried to make sure they had enough of their own food to survive. He rarely took their food but sometimes requested their assistance in maintaining his own land.

  Everyone finished their tasks for the day, and after a supper that closely resembled their lunch, the men shared a jug of cider before bedding down for the evening.

  The next day, Dylan headed out to town with a few of his clansmen so that they could make the meeting and get supplies. He declined to mention that the meeting was to arrange a wife for himself. It would end up being an excellent business pairing for trading with the English, and he hoped that the daughter was at least pleasant to look at.

  Chapter Three

  Andrew set out that same morning, for the same town. He and Lydia had briefly discussed the arrangement but even if Lydia had disagreed with the idea, Andrew was going to follow through. He did not like the idea of marrying his daughter off to some brutish and barbaric Scotsman, but the trading potential was more than he could resist. The Scot wool would fetch a nice price at the market and his grain was much heartier than what they could grow up there.

  With Victoria’s penchant for tantrums and disobedience, both Andrew and Lydia agreed that it would be best not to mention the arrangement until it was a done deal. They both knew that she had been looking forward to a cultured husband, preferably in London, with the finest furnishings and parties that England had to offer. Neither of them was ready to face her reaction when they told her she was going to be marrying a Scotsman in the north. But he knew that none of the men in his circles would have much to do with his flighty and unpredictable daughter.

  Andrew, and his private guard, arrived in town about an hour before the meeting was to happen. He intended to arrive first and settled into a comfortable chair in the pub. His breakfast had worn off, so he ordered lunch and dug heartily into the beef and barley soup that the servant delivered. As he finished, he hoped it would not be considered rude to have already eaten. If the other man indicated he wanted food, Andrew figured he could always order something else.

  Andrew looked up with a start to see the man standing over him. He was enormous, with a full beard that obscured what looked like a strong jawline. His teeth gleamed brightly when he smiled, and Andrew stood to shake the man’s hand. Through the window he could see several others that looked as though they could be related.

  “I understand I come with good references,” the Scot boomed.

  “Yes sir, I hope I do as well.”

  “For business, yes. For the rest of the deal, I’ve heard mixed reviews.”

  Andrew shook his head, “That girl will be the death of me yet.”

  Dylan laughed, “I can break a horse, I can train this daughter of yours.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Andrew muttered as he shook his head.

  “Shall we eat while we talk?” Dylan offered.

  “Certainly,” Andrew replied.

  They ordered up more soup, and the servant was smart enough not to react when Andrew placed the request. At Dylan’s request, the server also delivered two large mugs of ale.

  They settled into their chairs and their meal while they hashed out the details of the business portion of their arrangement. Andrew knew that the business deal was going to net him a tidy sum, and he hoped that it would do the same for the Scotsman. He was not sure what would happen should the grain turn sour. By the time the mugs and bowls were empty, it was time for the other portion of the agreement.

  Andrew sighed and rubbed his temples as he thought about the entire marriage arrangement. This Scotsman looked as though he would snap him in half should Victoria turn out to be a bigger pain in the ass than he was prepared to deal with. But the trade negotiation hinged on the promised wife, and he needed the business side to work. Plus, Victoria was not getting any younger and none of the appropriate men in their area would have anything to do with the hot-headed blonde woman.

  They shook on the deal and parted ways. Andrew dreaded dinner that evening, when he would have to tell Victoria about her upcoming wedding. She had been raised with the understanding that her marriage would be arranged, but he knew she never dreamed of moving so far from home to live with her Scot husband.

  Andrew nodded to Lydia when he arrived home, “It is done.”

  Lydia’s lips turned up in an echo of a smile, but her eyes showed no humor. “You will have to tell her, I will have nothing to do with that, and I take no responsibility for her reaction.”

  At the dinner table, Andrew broke the news. Victoria shook her blonde head at Andrew and looked down at her plate petulantly. She seethed with a combination of anger and confusion and disgust. She could hardly believe what her father had done. He had ruined her life. When he had told her, she made sure, at the top of her lungs, to tell him of that fact but he could not be swayed in his decision.

  That night, as Abigail helped her get ready for bed, the girl’s anger had dissolved into depression. Abigail tried to soothe her but there was no peace to be had. Abigail herself was a little horrified at the idea of her tiny charge being manhandled and controlled by a boorish Scotsman, but what could she do. She hoped that she would be allowed to travel with the girl, but it was not the time to ask.

  Chapter Four

  Victoria had to travel within the next few weeks if the group was going to safely get home before any winter weather snuck in. She was greatly relieved to find out that not only was Abigail going to travel with them, but she would be staying in Scotland with her even after the wedding. Abigail was grateful as well; she had no family to speak of and would no doubt lose her job once Victoria was out of the house. It was now up to the Scotsman whether she would be retained.

  Victoria’s trousseau was completed, including an ivory lace wedding dress and matching slippers. She pouted silently throughout the entire preparation, and the family bore it grimly. Abigail tried to reassure her that it was all for the best, but Victoria was inconsolable.

  Finally, the carriage and additional carts were loaded with blankets and food for the journey. The ladies were layered in their warmest clothing and bundled into the carriage for protection from the elements. The men, including Andrew, would ride on horseback for most of the trip. They took with them two extra horses, should any of the animals get injured or exhausted on the trip. Andrew, Lydia, Victoria, Abigail, and several private guards set out north with the intention of returning in a couple of weeks.

  As the caravan pulled off of the estate grounds, Victoria looked around sadly. She did not know when she would see her home again, and it was possible she would never again step foot on the place that raised her. Instead, she thought bitterly, I am being shipped off like a cow to slaughter by my own father.

  Lydia could see the unhappiness on her daughter’s face, and she patted her hand to rea
ssure her as best she could.

  “I know, m’dear, this will be hard. I was terrified when my parents sent me to your father. It did not end up so badly. I’m sure your father knows what he is doing.”

  “Of course, Mother. He knows exactly what he is doing. He is getting a trade partner and all it cost him was his only child.”

  Victoria turned away and stared out the window as the pond with the raspberries drifted past her view. Not only was she bidding her home and family goodbye, but she was also going to have to endure a rather painful journey to destinations unknown. Abigail patted her knee but she did not acknowledge the older woman.

  The English countryside faded into the Scottish hills and she tried not to stare at the bedraggled peasant farmers and their mud huts.

  On the other side of the journey, Dylan made his own preparations. The clansmen had been surprised by his announcement of the impending wedding, but were not in much position to argue. It seems that Dylan had made a wise business decision, and he was going to get a wife as a bonus. They knew that he would not, could not, stay unmarried forever, but the idea of mingling their bloodline with that of an Englishwoman was unnerving.

  It was not that the lines had never been sullied like that; it was just rarely optional. It was not an uncommon practice for English marauders to attack a Scottish wedding and have their way with the bride on her wedding night. It was nearly unheard of for a Scotsman to take an English bride voluntarily.

  Dylan’s female servants had prepared the master suite so that it was more appropriate to receive the new woman. The house had long been a male domain, since Dylan’s mother had died in childbirth and his father never remarried. He had given them nearly carte blanche to do what they wanted, and they were excited to have a woman to care for. They giggled together at the whispers of babies in the near future.

  An extra trip into town had been made, to stock up for a wedding feast. The bride would be arriving with her parents and one attendant, and the clan wanted to make sure they made a good impression. Dylan and his group knew very well what their reputation must be, and it would be good to set those English on their heels for once.

  The day before the predicted arrival, the food was finished and the ale was tested. Repeatedly. The grounds were cleaned as well as the castle.

  He had not mentioned it to anyone, but Dylan found himself getting more and more nervous as the hours crept by. He was not inexperienced with women, but he was very inexperienced in keeping one happy for more than one evening. This lady was going to spend every night with him for the rest of their lives and that idea was daunting to say the least. He had not had to answer to anyone in a long time.

  Finally, the morning came after a fitful night of very little sleep. He stood in front of the polished mirror of their bedroom and tried to trim his beard and tame his hair. One of the house servants brought him his clothing and a brand-new knee-length leather coat.

  “A gift from your cousins,” they announced.

  He smiled and stroked the butter soft leather. The back was etched with the eagle of their clan and he traced the design with a rough fingertip. It was a beautiful gesture, and fitting wedding attire for the head of the family.

  Breakfast was awkwardly silent in the dining hall after he thanked the gift givers. The group spent a quiet morning sipping their tea and chewing their bread thoughtfully, as they all pondered how Dylan’s life was going to change.

  Just before lunchtime, Dylan looked up from his reverie at the table as he heard the caravan approach.

  Inside the carriage, Victoria gasped as she peered out the window.

  Chapter Five

  Dylan strode out of the house alone, leaving his friends and family at the table. He was ready to shake hands on this deal and to meet his bride. The carriage stopped at the entrance to the front garden and the mounted escorts pulled alongside to monitor the interaction. Andrew dismounted and approached Dylan.

  Victoria peered out of the carriage window and whispered, “He lives in a castle….”

  Lydia laughed softly, “Maybe this won’t be so bad m’dear.”

  Abigail just stared up at the towering structure with awe.

  The women watched as the men shook hands, and Andrew approached the door of the carriage. Quickly Lydia smoothed Victoria’s hair into place and pinched her cheeks lightly to add a hint of pink to her creamy complexion. Abigail patted her hand one more time and the door opened.

  Dylan crossed his arms over his chest and watched intently, his cobalt eyes narrowing in expectation and anxiety. Andrew swung the door wide and offered his hand up into the carriage. Dylan’s eyes widened and he sucked in a hard breath as a petite blonde head appeared. It was bowed towards the ground as she watched her steps exiting the carriage and she smoothed her skirts into place before finally turning her heart-shaped face up to him.

  Her green eyes widened when she caught her first glimpse of her betrothed. He had to be the largest man she had ever seen up close. His shoulders seemed as wide as her leg was long and his arms bulged and rippled looked like they carry entire trees. His dark hair curled over his deep blue eyes and his thick brown beard seemed almost red in the sunlight. Not only was he the largest man, but he had to be one of the most handsome men she had ever met.

  He tried to smother his chuckle at her amazement. He knew he cut an intimidating figure, and he could only imagine what was racing through her head. After a long moment, he approached her steadily and she bowed slightly when he took her hand.

  “Victoria, I presume,” his rich voice boomed in a thick Scottish brogue.

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  Andrew even had to stifle his amazement at how subdued his wild child seemed to be in Dylan’s presence.

  Since Dylan stood nearly a foot taller than Victoria, he had an eye-popping view down the bodice of her dress. From what he could tell, her breasts were full and firm and his mind tumbled over the ideas and possibilities. He could feel a telltale tingling and twitching that reminded him how long it had been since he had the company of a woman.

  He mutely offered her his arm, and she rested one tiny hand on his forearm. The couple entered the castle with Victoria’s parents following. Behind her parents came the guards and Abigail. The four noblemen and women headed into the dining hall, while the guards and Abigail were politely escorted to the kitchen.

  “Dinner will be along shortly. I hope you all are hungry after your trip.”

  Lydia gushed over how generous and kind he was, and how much they appreciated his hospitality. They would be staying over for just a couple of days; the wedding was tomorrow and they would leave the following day.

  The clansmen had cleared out of the room but returned in time for dinner. It was a filling but simple meal of lamb stew and homemade bread. The elaborate meal would come tomorrow, after the wedding celebration. After supper, Victoria and her family were shown to one large bedroom for the night, while Dylan and his family retired to their own quarters.

  Neither Victoria nor Dylan got much sleep that night. Victoria tossed and turned, struggling to reconcile the gentleman she had just met with everything she had heard about the Scots. Even her body was reacting to him in ways she did not fully understand. He made her blush simply by looking at her, and the heat seemed to spread from her cheeks to her belly. Dylan considered himself truly lucky to have made the deal thus far, and silently thanked Andrew for being so pushy. He tried to ignore the stirring in his groin but he could not stop thinking about the way Victoria filled out the bodice of her dress or the way it highlighted her slender waist.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning dawned too early, and neither the bride nor the bridegroom was quite ready to face this life-changing day. Andrew and Lydia had risen early and were strolling around the grounds, admiring Dylan’s vegetable garden and rose bushes. Abigail snuck into the room quietly, and gently woke Victoria.

  “Miss? It’s time to get up.”

  Victoria moaned softl
y and rolled over to face the older woman.

  “Oh Abigail,” she whispered, as soon as reality swept the cobwebs from her sleepy head. “Am I really ready for this?”

  “As ready as any young woman, I suppose. I never married so I can’t really say Miss.”

  “Could I have some tea please? I don’t quite feel like having my breakfast in the dining hall.”

  “Of course Miss. Your groom shouldn’t see you before the wedding any way.”

  “Oh that’s just superstition,” Victoria dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand.

  “Whether it is or isn’t, I don’t think we want to risk it,” Abigail smiled.

  She left and returned with a china cup of hot tea.

  “He even owns china,” Victoria said, amazed.

  “What were you expecting?”

  “Some kind of bear skin hut and one wooden bowl for everything,” Victoria laughed.

  “Missy, you are too much.”

  Dylan’s house servants brought up a large metal tub and started filling it with warm water while Victoria sat wrapped in her blanket on the bed. Once they left, Abigail thoroughly scrubbed her down and dried her off. Wrapped in a dressing gown, Abigail began to get her ready for the wedding. It was a few hours off, but they were both excited.

  After her hair was dried, curled, and twisted up, Abigail dabbed a touch of pink lipstick to the young woman’s cheeks and lips. She kissed Victoria’s forehead gently and whispered to her.

  “It’s like I’m giving away my own daughter.”

  Victoria embraced the woman, “I’m so glad you’re staying with me. You’re like family.”

  Lydia crept into the room and kissed her daughter. “Just beautiful m’dear.”

  “Is it almost time?” Victoria was anxious and nervous, but only half of it was fear. The other half was that unexplained heat she felt whenever Dylan looked at her with those searching eyes.

  “Almost. I think they are finishing the flowers in the living area. We best get you into your dress.”

  The cream-colored lace skimmed over her full breasts, slim waist, and curvy hips. Her ivory skin and blonde hair made her look like a tiny porcelain doll. Lydia gasped at how fragile her willful and disobedient girl looked. When her mind flashed to her impending son-in-law, she became worried about the upcoming wedding night.