Highlander's Veiled Assassin (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Alisa Adams

  “I know he’ll be fine, he just needs a little more self-confidence. It was difficult for him with Thomas and Matthew for they were always competitive and Harold just couldn’t keep up. It was different for me because I was the only girl.”

  “Well, when we hae children of our own, we’ll make sure they’re all special,” Seamus said. Sarina opened her lips to him and smiled at him coquettishly. She reached down and found his manhood, surprised that it was already rigid. She shifted her body and this time Seamus pulled her on top of him, resting his hands on her hips. She straddled him and adjusted her position to feel him inside her. Her hair fell down her shoulders and Seamus’ hands groped her breasts. He was evidently enjoying the view and Sarina was flattered that he took so much delight in her body.

  Seamus held her tightly on him and she felt the sweet bliss of arousal as he entered her again. She rocked back and forth, guided by his momentum, and placed her hands on his chest. She dug her fingers into his skin as she arched her neck back and offered him all of her. His hand wrapped around her back and pulled her down so that he was drowning in her scent and let herself yield to him, enjoying the feeling of his powerful body slamming against her over and over again.

  It was more frantic, more primal than the first time they had made love and the pleasure felt as though it was being ripped out of her. Small, squeaking moans erupted from her mouth and heat spread throughout her body. She was limp against the writhing form of Seamus and loved every minute of his manhood inside her. He was thick and long and he seemed to fill up every part of her. She grew to know the differences in his moans and grunts and soon, she knew when he was close to climaxing. Filled with confidence, she pushed herself up and shook her head, taking control of the rhythm herself.

  She ground her hips against him and twisted her body to maximize pleasure for both of them. Sarina found she enjoyed having this powerful warrior at her mercy. She placed her hands against his heart and watched the tension ripple over his body until his hands seized her arms and held her tightly. She moaned his name as he released himself inside her and she stayed there, wanting to soak up every drop of him to increase the chances of them conceiving a child.

  Sarina sank into his arms and they fell asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night to do it again. They were ravenous for each other and Sarina loved the wild feelings that filled her heart.

  After spending some time in the morning lying in each other’s arms, Sarina and Seamus rose to enjoy breakfast. Thomas’ funeral was scheduled for the afternoon and all the estate had turned out. Harold addressed the attendees and spoke well of his brother. Sarina refused to speak, but the way Harold spoke about him brought tears to her eyes and she was so angry at Thomas for turning into such a violent and irredeemable man. When she looked at the grave, she thought about the brother he used to be, the one she remembered from childhood, and that was the man she mourned. She also looked to the graves next to him, those of her parents, and she thought of Matthew as well. Her family had been decimated and there were just two of them left. It was yet to be seen what the future held in store for the remaining Bashir children, but she hoped dearly that they would prosper.

  For Harold, she hoped that he would find a good, intelligent wife who could support him in running the estate, just as their own mother had aided their father. She also hoped that he would realize that he didn’t have to compare himself to Thomas in order to be a success. For herself, she wanted to give birth to a new dynasty. She remembered how pleasing it was to have three older brothers and she wanted her own children to be able to count on each other. It was clear how easily a family could be decimated, but she felt a responsibility to carry on the dynasty herself, even though they would not carry the Bashir name, but she would tell them of their English heritage and make sure they knew of the men and women that came before them.

  Seamus stood by her side resolutely and calmed her when she wept. As Harold gave his eulogy, people’s gazes often drifted towards Seamus. Many of them suspected or had worked out that Seamus had been the one to kill Thomas and most of them were so blinded by prejudice that they probably wondered how Sarina could love the man who had killed her brother. They probably thought that Thomas was innocent. Sarina didn’t much care for that though. She knew the truth of the matter and she knew who really loved her.

  Thomas was laid to rest and Sarina felt she was able to put this whole affair behind her. It had been a tumultuous time, but she had learned a lot about herself and had met the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. She clasped his hand tightly and held it throughout the ceremony, feeling safe with him. They stayed another night. Sarina worried about Harold and didn’t want to leave him too readily in case he fell into despair, but by the following day, he seemed to be in better spirits.

  When Sarina bid farewell to him, he hugged her and told her that he would be in contact with her soon. “You seem better prepared for the future,” Sarina said. Harold’s eyes lit up.

  “I had the most wonderful dream last night. All of them were there: Mother, Father, Thomas, and Matthew. They were all smiling at me and I knew I had their blessing,” Harold said, beaming.

  “I’m glad,” Sarina replied. She hugged her brother and was confident that the estate was being left in good hands. She gathered Emily and Seamus. Emily had spent most of the time looking in awe at the huge house, but she seemed to be glad to be leaving. There were too many people for her liking.

  They made their way to the carriage and as they left, Sarina thought back to the first time she had left, when she had so much fear in her heart and she worried about being manhandled by a brutish Highlander. But now, she was leaving with the man she loved, going back to the place she considered home, and she was ready to start a family. Before she got into the carriage, she told Seamus that she loved him. He smiled, kissed her, and he was perfectly happy. With that, the carriage began its journey home to the Highlands.

  Extended epilogue and Free book

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  Before you go, turn the page as I have an extra sweet treat from me…

  Allana

  Allana's name meant ‘beautiful’, but it was not a fitting name for one who refused to pin up her hair, ran instead of walked, and could not pretend to be polite if someone was stupid. She got up when she wanted, read books until two o'clock in the morning, and bathed naked in the burn across from the castle, not caring who saw her. Her attitude had cost her two suitors already, each of them driven away by her independent, devil-may-care temperament, and her parents were becoming anxious. She was nineteen, almost twenty, and soon she would be too old for any eligible bachelor to court her.

  Her sister, Bettina, was exactly the opposite. She was calm, biddable, and eager to please. She would never have dreamed of swimming in the burn and the thought of going out without pinning her hair up would have appalled her. She was Allana's best friend in the whole world, although Allana did feel like shaking Bettina sometimes and telling her to wake up.

  Not only were the two sisters opposite in character, but they did not resemble each other in the slightest. Bettina was tall and fair with pale green eyes whereas Allana was much shorter, slim, and had very dark hair. By candlelight, her eyes looked almost black while in daylight they had glints of gold. Her hair rippled down to her waist in shining jet-black waves. She was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman in the whole of Oban.

  She had a circle of friends but never felt quite part of them. They enjoyed s
ewing, drinking wine, and, most of all, gossiping and simpering over young men. Although Allana took pleasure in being a lovely young woman, she sometimes thought being a handsome young man might also be enjoyable. She smiled at the thought.

  Young men always seemed to be having more fun, but she reasoned that being a woman had its benefits too. She would never have to work for a living, for a start, and could spend as much time as she liked drawing, riding, and writing poetry, of which she had a sizeable collection. She thought she might write novels too, stories of love and adventure where the woman was just as brave as the man, who was dangerously handsome. The only man she could think of that she would even vaguely consider as a husband was Nevin, the son of Laird Kirk, and the general expectation was that they would become betrothed before too long.

  There was the tedious business of childbearing to be done, of course, but God had ordained that women should bear children, so there was no avoiding it. Still, there were wet nurses and nannies for women of her class, so she reasoned that she could be fairly content if she could find a husband she could tolerate—and one who could tolerate her.

  She often wondered if there had always been women like her or if she was the only restless one who had ever lived. She had heard of a woman whose name, Alexa Chevalier, had passed into legend for her martial skills, riding ability, and beauty. She had a husband, Auguste, and they had absolutely adored each other. She had even given him four children. But was she just a story? Could a woman like that really have existed? She seemed to have been showered with more blessings than one person deserved.

  Allana sighed. If Alexa had existed, she was Allana's heroine. That had been a hundred years ago, but women's roles had changed little and she could never see a future where women would be equal to men. She got up and went to the window. The sky was a lowering, unattractive bruise gray and there was a storm on the horizon, its preceding winds already howling through the trees.

  She hated days like this when she was confined to the castle and fidgeted all day. She hoped that Nevin would visit her, however, he was most likely poring over his father’s accounts with a frown that caused a little ‘v’ between his eyes. Nevin was handsome in a chiseled kind of way with blue-gray eyes and thick fair hair. He turned many a head with his physique since he was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular—he had to be. Lairds were farmers as well as landlords and farming was hard work. Nevin was even-tempered and Allana had only seen him really angry once when he had seen a man beating a dog. Nevin had hauled the man off the animal, taken away the stick he was using, and beat him with it instead. Nobody on his estate beat any creature from that day on.

  Nevin was just about to inherit an enormous amount of money and property which was one of the reasons why Allana's father was so keen for her to become betrothed to him. Nevin's father was dying slowly and painfully of consumption and when he finally gave up the ghost, the lion's share of his estate would pass almost in its entirety to Nevin, as the eldest son. His wife, therefore, would be a very wealthy woman. Allana cared nothing for Nevin's inheritance. She would never receive such a bequest in her own right, but she knew that her father would settle a handsome amount of money on her upon his death.

  Allana loved her father too much to hope that he would die soon, however. She had not encountered too many men in her young life, but she knew enough of the ones she had met to realize that her father was a man of quality and goodness. He wanted her to marry a wealthy man, of course, but not one who would abuse or neglect his daughter. He liked Nevin and he was honest enough to admit to himself that it was partly because he was rich and would provide for Allana well, but also because he was a tender man who would cherish her. Whether Allana would cherish him was something that caused him concern occasionally. She could be headstrong, but she had heart of gold and Malcolm was sure it would shine through in the end.

  Allana's sister Bettina was much quieter and more biddable, but he loved her just as much in a different way. His love for Bettina was tender and soft, while for Allana it occasionally contained elements of sheer terror! Malcolm had organized a ceilidh for Bettina's birthday. All the local gentry had been invited including Nevin's father, Laird Kirk, and his guests, so Malcolm was preparing for the biggest social event of the year. It was high summer, the time when the sun finally set just before midnight and began to rise around two thirty in the morning. Summer in the Highlands was glorious—even though the average temperature was rarely warm enough to take a shawl off your shoulders.

  In most ways, Bettina loved being Allana's sister. She looked up to her big sister as her role model and mentor and tried to imitate everything she did. At sixteen years old, she was at the age where she was no longer a child but not yet a woman. Soon, however, it would be time for her to marry and a suitable young man would be chosen for her from the queue waiting at the gates of the castle. Bettina could not wait. Her whole life was spreading out before her and she did not want to waste a minute of it.

  The only trouble on the horizon was that Allana was about to become betrothed to the man she loved and wanted more than anyone else in the world. Bettina ached to be in Nevin's arms. She longed for him to propose to her then marry her and give her lots and lots of his babies, but that was a fanciful notion. For which young man would give their heart to dull, conventional Bettina when they could have dark, dramatic Allana whose very name told everyone about her? Bettina sighed. I would love to be Allana, just for one day, she thought. And then I can find out her secret and copy it.

  One day when she and her mother had gone out for a ride and had stopped to look out to sea for a moment, she said suddenly, "I wish I was more like Allana."

  Lady Edme frowned at her. "Daughter," her mother said firmly. "You are a wonderful lass just as you are and if any man asks you to change, he is not worthy of you. Allana is a wonderful lass too, but she is Allana and you are you and neither of you is better or worse than the other—you are just different. Do you understand me? I love you both equally and that will never change."

  "But Mother," Bettina protested, "the young men look at her and not at me. I am just not as exciting as she is."

  "Then that is the way God made you," she stated, with a trace of impatience in her voice. "Not every man likes the same type of woman. Some men like a challenge and a bit of excitement, so they may seek out someone like Allana but many like a sweet, good-natured girl like you and there is nothing wrong with that. I think Allana may be a spinster for a while yet whereas I think you will be married within a few months."

  Bettina looked up at her mother, eyes shining. "Do you think so, Mother?" She breathed a sigh of relief.

  "I do," Edme replied fondly. "Laird MacDonald's son looks quite keen and so does Laird Baxter's. They are both very personable and good-hearted.

  Bettina shook her head and frowned. "I know they are both lovely boys, Mother," she said and sighed. "I would settle for either of them if I had to, but there is someone I favor more."

  "Who?" Edme asked quizzically. She was genuinely surprised. Her daughter had said nothing to her about any secret love.

  Bettina blushed. "Nevin," she replied.

  Edme was flabbergasted. "Nevin?" Not only was he practically betrothed to Allana, but he had no idea Bettina existed in terms of a love match. "But sweetheart, you know that Allana and Nevin are likely to be betrothed soon. Look elsewhere, I beg you."

  "She does not love him," Bettina said with deep sadness.

  Edme paused for a moment and looked out to where a storm was building up on the horizon. "I have no idea what to say to you, Bettina," she said, shrugging helplessly. "Nevin has never shown any regard for you, as far as I know, other than to treat you like a younger sister. Come, the storm is blowing in and we need to eat. We will talk some more about other suitable young men another day. There is plenty of time."

  Bettina nodded and they turned their horses' heads for home.

  Nevin

  Malcolm had always known that there would be fewer problem
s marrying off his younger daughter than his older one. Granted, it looked as though Allana was settling for Nevin, but secretly, the Laird pitied the young man. His life would not be an easy one! Still, she would be married and he would never have to worry about her well-being. Nevin was not the kind of man who would abuse her and although he was easy-going, he could give as good as he got in an argument!

  Nevin had known Allana all his life and his love had grown from that of a playmate to a teenage sweetheart then to the passion of a full-grown man. He had never seriously considered marrying anyone else, but he knew that taking on Allana would be a challenge. She was never going to be one of those wives who obeyed her husband in everything, but that was one of the reasons he loved her so much.

  Nevin’s father did not have long to live. No matter how many prayers were said over him, no matter how many leeches they placed on him, or how many herbal cures with which they doctored him, he could not recover. It seemed to Nevin that he was staying alive only long enough to get his affairs in order before he passed on.

  The actual betrothal between Nevin and Allana had not yet been settled and it did not seem like a fitting time to rejoice about it even if it had, so they decided to have a quiet family celebration after the terms of the betrothal had been agreed upon. Nevin was almost ecstatic to think that soon Allana would be his bride and even though nothing was official, it seemed like a foregone conclusion. There was no-one else for him but Allana and he hoped that for her there was no-one else but him either. However, sometimes he wondered.

  Allana was so flighty that she flirted with every man in her immediate circle. Nevin tried to ignore it, but it worried him. She had told him of their father's plans and assured him that she was happy about them, but she showed no excitement when he tried to raise the subject of their marriage. Unlike many girls, she was not assembling a trousseau, huddling together with girlfriends to make plans, and generally involving herself in the activities of a betrothal. He tried not to take it too much to heart since he knew that Allana's nature was to flit quickly from one subject to another.