The Eternal Highlander

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by Lynsay Sands




  THE ETERNAL HIGHLANDER

  Books by Hannah Howell

  ONLY FOR YOU

  MY VALIANT KNIGHT

  UNCONQUERED

  WILD ROSES

  A TASTE OF FIRE

  HIGHLAND DESTINY

  HIGHLAND HONOR

  HIGHLAND PROMISE

  A STOCKINGFUL OF JOY

  HIGHLAND VOW

  HIGHLAND KNIGHT

  HIGHLAND HEARTS

  HIGHLAND BRIDE

  HIGHLAND ANGEL

  HIGHLAND GROOM

  HIGHLAND WARRIOR

  RECKLESS

  Published by Zebra Books

  THE ETERNAL HIGHLANDER

  HANNAH HOWELL

  LYNSAY SANDS

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  CONTENTS

  NIGHTRIDERS

  by Hannah Howell

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  THE HIGHLAND BRIDE

  by Lynsay Sands

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  NIGHTRIDERS

  Hannah Howell

  Prologue

  Scotland—Winter 1474

  Untroubled by the cold, Cathal MacNachton watched the shadowy figures emerge from the depths of his keep and disappear into the thick, mist-shrouded forest surrounding Cambrun, hiding it from prying eyes. Their wild cries were a seductive music, but he resisted the urge to join them. He caught the scent of their prey upon the breeze and felt his blood stir with an old hunger. His brethren would feast tonight and he was pleased for their sake. Soon they would have to accept what else he scented upon the winds that swept around their mountain stronghold—change.

  “Ye didnae join the hunt?”

  Cathal waited until his cousin stood beside him before replying, “Nay. Not this time.”

  “Do ye e’er join them now?”

  “Nay. I havenae been on a hunt for years. I can still feel the call, but I willnae answer it. Do ye feel the call?”

  “Aye, but, like ye, I fight its allure. It has been two years now since I last succumbed to the urge. I am nay as isolated as ye are. Too many eyes to catch a glimpse, too great a chance of discovery.”

  “That chance is edging e’er closer to us. Tis why I wished to speak with ye.” Cathal turned to face his cousin. “The fears of the Outsiders were once our shield, but those fears could now bring about our destruction, Connall. The Outsiders are no longer content to ignore us, to hide in their homes at night and hang charms upon their doors to keep us away. The old ways, the ancient beliefs, are little more than clouded memories, tales whispered by the fire on stormy nights.”

  “Demons and the stuff of nightmares meant to be endured?”

  “Exactly. Now the church has fully captured the hearts and minds of the Outsiders and the church doesnae tolerate such as we. Aye, it has been a threat for hundreds of years, but ne’er so much as now, now that e’en the common folk can be stirred to fight the devil and nay just pray for safety and guidance. Loudan, a Pureblood, was caught by the Outsiders last month. He had succumbed to a need to wander.”

  Connall cursed. “He is dead?”

  “Aye. Dragged before a priest eager to prove his worth, Loudan was quickly condemned as one of the devil’s minions. His death was hard. Tortured, garroted, then burned and his bones scattered upon the moors. That is the fate which awaits us all if we dinnae change. Ye and I are proof that we can change. We are from both worlds. That was a choice made by our parents, but now it is a necessity if the MacNachton bloodline is to continue.”

  “What are ye saying, Cathal?”

  “Tis time to breed out what makes us different, what keeps us isolated and feared.”

  “Ye and I arenae so verra different from the Purebloods.”

  “Different enough. I can e’en tolerate some sunlight. It may take many generations and all that our ancestors bequeathed us may ne’er fully disappear, but it must be done if we are to survive. Tis harder to find Outsiders we can trust to do what we cannae. We need some of our own blood to assume those chores. As lairds, ye and I must lead the others. We must find ourselves brides from amongst the Outsiders.”

  “Some of our people willnae understand, willnae accept such change. Ye could face a challenge.”

  Cathal nodded. “I ken it. I will meet it when it comes. There isnae any other choice, Connall. They ken we are here. How long ere they are nay longer satisfied with the occasional fool like Loudan who wanders into their grasp? How long before we are no longer the hunters, but the hunted? Loudan died but a day’s ride away from here.”

  “Too close,” Connall whispered.

  “Much too close.”

  Connall sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I understand your concern, can see the sense of your plan, yet, to change what we are? To change all that makes us MacNachtons?”

  “Many of us have already begun that change. There are others like us, though nay as many as I would like. It was inevitable. Breeding amongst our own for so many years brings its own troubles. ’S truth, it grows dangerously incestuous. There isnae a lass within these walls that I am nay related to in some way. I believe ’tis why so few bairns are born here. Tis true that we dinnae need the constant renewal of life the Outsiders do, but we cannae continue to have loss without gain. One of our brethren is gone and, as matters stand now, there is little chance that he will be replaced. Bringing in new blood could be our salvation in more than one way.”

  “Finding Outsider mates who will accept us, ones we can trust, willnae be easy.”

  “We are proof that it can be done. Are ye with me?”

  “Aye and nay. Aye, I see the wisdom of all ye say, but I find it difficult to embrace it with a whole heart.”

  “I understand. I am nay too pleased myself. There will be no way to hide our secrets from a wife. When she discovers the truth, will I still have a mate, or will I face an enemy?”

  “Something to consider.”

  “Aye, and I ken that is why ye hesitate. Fair enough. Take time to think on it. All I ask now is—do ye stand behind me in this?”

  “Aye, always, and in all things.”

  “Thank ye. I may have need of a strong ally.”

  “Are ye sure ye shouldnae think this o’er a wee bit more?”

  “Nay. I am firm in my decision. Change is our only hope. Without it, ’twill nay be just the whispered tales about the MacNachtons which become lost in the mists of time, but the MacNachtons themselves.”

  One

  Scotland—Spring 1475

  Bridget winced as the carriage she rode in hit a particularly deep rut causing her already tender backside to hit the thinly padded seat hard. She was going to be covered in bruises by the time she reached her cousin’s home. She pulled aside the oiled cloth that covered the small barred opening in the door of the carriage, coughed as the dust from the road blew in, and glanced up at the sky. They would not reach the next inn today, she mused, and sighed with disappointment. The sun was setting and they
would soon be forced to stop for the night.

  “I dinnae think we will get round those great hills today,” said Nan after peeking out the window.

  “Was that the plan?” asked Bridget as she let the cloth fall back over the window and looked at the older woman seated across from her.

  “I believe so. The men spoke of it last eve. They seemed most eager to put those heights behind us ere we stopped for the night.”

  “Did they say why?”

  “Nay, not truly. Just muttered some nonsense about spirits and demons.”

  “I suppose those mist-shrouded mountains could easily stir the imagination,” she murmured, but felt the rousing of a keen curiosity she had never been able to conquer.

  “Tis certain that many people fear such places, fear what might lurk in such a dark forest or in those clouded hills. But, this time, ’twas some foolish tale they heard in that village we stopped at for the night.”

  “Ye heard it, too?”

  “Nay. The men told it to me. Some tale about a creature from those hills, one who disguised himself as a mon. A mon who ne’er showed himself when the sun rose, only ventured out at night. A mon with eyes like a wolf and teeth like one, as weel. A mon so strong it took near a dozen villagers to subdue him, many of them suffering grievous injuries. A mon who could bewitch any lass into offering him her chastity.”

  The scorn in Nan’s voice made it very clear that she did not believe the tale at all. Bridget was pleased that that scorn did not stop the woman from repeating the tale, however. “Why did they feel the need to attack him, to subdue him? And, what did they do with him after they captured him?”

  “They caught him sinfully fornicating with another mon’s wife. They dragged him before the priest. Tis then that they realized what they had—a devil, a demon, one of Hell’s foul creatures. The priest had the mon tortured, but that mon didnae confess his sins or repent them. They said his wounds healed as if by magic. The priest then declared him a demon, or a witch. I am nay quite sure. They garroted him, burned him, and scattered his bones far and wide o’er the moors so that he couldnae come back to life.”

  “How cruel. He may have been innocent.”

  “I certainly doubt he was all they claim he was, but he wasnae innocent. If there was a mon executed, it was probably for the sins of fornication and adultery. He showed the villagers that their women lacked morals.”

  Bridget inwardly sighed and dutifully nodded her agreement with Nan’s harsh judgment. Nan’s extremely pious, self-righteous nature was the reason why the woman had been chosen to be her companion on this journey. Her brother Duncan had made it painfully clear that there would be a tight rein kept upon her at all times. Bridget was still not entirely sure where her brother had found the woman. He claimed Nan was a relation, but Bridget had never known a single Callan to be so thoroughly pious or so concerned with morality and correct behavior.

  When her brother had allowed her to accept her cousin’s invitation, Bridget had been excited. She had never been away from her home, never left Dunsmuir lands. Her cousin Barbara had married a man of means and influence, one who spent time at court. This visit meant the chance to see all the things Bridget had only heard of in the gossip and tales brought by the rare visitors to Dunsmuir. She should have suspected that her dour, overprotective brother would find a way to curtail her chance of thoroughly enjoying such a journey. A woman like Nan was as good as a shackle. It began to look as if all those new clothes and dancing lessons would go to waste.

  Despite Nan’s smothering presence, Bridget still felt a tickle of anticipation. That made no sense as Nan was the sort of woman who would feel it her duty to fiercely curtail all excitement, pleasure, and gaiety. Yet, within her lurked the feeling that she was about to embark upon some great adventure, that her life would soon change. Bridget inwardly grimaced. It was probably just the result of all her fanciful dreams about a tall, dark, handsome man sweeping her off her feet. All maidens had such dreams. She should not cling to hers so assiduously, as if they were some prophecy. Tall, dark, handsome men had better things to do than to carry on about small, too-thin lasses. Bridget doubted such men would fall to their knees to declare their undying love for her, either. If she continued to anticipate that sort of thing, she would soon suffer a keen disappointment.

  The carriage suddenly took a sharp turn. Bridget cursed as she was slammed up against the side, adding more bruises to the ones she was certain she already had. As she straightened herself, she felt a twinge of irritation when she saw that Nan had barely moved.

  “Such coarse language should ne’er pass a young lass’ lips,” scolded Nan.

  “Of course,” Bridget murmured. “My apologies if I have shocked ye.”

  “Och, ye didnae shock me, lass. I but remind ye of your manners. Men dinnae like to hear such language upon a woman’s lips.”

  With Nan planted firmly at her side, Bridget doubted any man would dare approach her. If one did prove brave enough, or fool enough, to do so, she doubted he would linger long enough to catch her cursing. Since her brother had strongly hinted that it was time for her to find a husband, Bridget was a little surprised that he would give her a companion who could scare away a suitor with just one look.

  The carriage stopped and, a moment later, the door was opened. Bridget smiled faintly at the man who helped her out. Although three days of travel had passed, she still felt a little uneasy around the six men her brother had hired to take her to her cousin’s. They were a rough, dour group of men who sold their swords and hoped to find profitable work at the end of the journey. Duncan had seen them as the perfect solution to the problem of needing to provide her with protection during the journey yet not deplete his supply of men during this crucial planting time. Bridget knew he had the right idea, but she would have preferred at least one man she knew, someone whose loyalty she could depend upon.

  Once the men had made a fire and tended to the horses, Bridget found herself and Nan left with the rest of the work. The men quickly provided some meat to cook, but Bridget wished they had thought to prepare it for the spit as well. To her relief, Nan took over that chore while she prepared them a place to sleep. It took a great effort to control her rising temper when the men pointed to the places where she could prepare their beds. Biting back curses, she did so, telling herself over and over again that it was not worth an argument.

  “Your brother shouldnae have paid them at the start of this journey,” Nan muttered when Bridget joined her by the fire, “but at the end. We would have been treated like pampered royalty if these fools had to worry about getting their coin.”

  It was somewhat comforting to discover that Nan was not pleased by the work allotted to them, either. “Weel, they probably see such things as women’s work demeaning to a mon.”

  “Demeaning or nay, they are the ones paid to care for us, nay t’other way round. If I wasnae a good, God-fearing woman, I would tell ye to slip some nettles into their beds.”

  Bridget grinned, thinking that Nan might not be all piety and scoldings after all. “I did consider it, but decided I couldnae be sure how they would react.” She frowned slightly. “I am nay sure I fully understand why Duncan hired complete strangers to take us to Barbara’s.”

  “He needed his own men at Dunsmuir. These are unsettled times and the season itself requires many hands, and strong backs, to do the work. Work undone in the spring can mean hunger haunts the winter.”

  “Of course. I ken it. I just wish he had sent one of our own to watch o’er this lot and us.”

  “Have these men been insolent or ungallant?”

  The way Nan stiffened and glared at the men almost made Bridget smile. “Nay. I am just nay verra comfortable depending upon men I dinnae ken at all. I have ne’er been away from Dunsmuir so have ne’er been without someone I ken weel near to hand.”

  Nan nodded. “There is a comfort in that. Ye will soon be amongst kin again.”

  Murmuring her agreement, Bridget stare
d into the fire. She would have to work harder to overcome her unease around strangers. Nan would restrict any possible adventures quite well as it was. She did not need to add her own nervousness to that, restricting her possible enjoyment of this visit even more. Her sister Efrica would not be afraid. Effie would march boldly into the unknown. Blindfolded. Bridget smiled faintly at the thought of her somewhat untamed younger sister. She had little of that boldness which made Effie such a trial to Duncan. It was time to bring it forth, nurture it until her occasional bouts of unease were smothered. Touching the delicate medallion her grandmother had given her, Bridget told herself she would never forget that she came from a long line of brave, bold women.

  She also had to decide exactly what she wished to gain from this journey. Duncan hoped she would find a husband, make a match which would benefit the clan in some way. She had no objections to that, but she would not allow herself to be pulled into a marriage simply because it might benefit her clan and please Duncan. Despite all her dreams and imaginings, Bridget was not foolish enough to think she would soon find the great love of her life. She did want some affection in her marriage, however, some passion and mutual respect. Duncan did not understand, but she would rather remain alone than find herself tied to a faithless man who saw her as no more than a dowry and a womb for his heir.

  Nan drew her attention with a sharp nudge in her side. The food was ready and Bridget followed Nan’s silent urgings to take her share. Once she and Nan had their food, they moved away from the fire and told the men that the food was ready. The way the men devoured the food made Bridget heartily glad of Nan’s foresight.

 

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