A Highlander Born from Chaos
There was a fine line between hatred and love… together they crossed all the lines…
Kenna Kendrick
Contents
Thank you
About the book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
But there’s more…
Afterword
Do you want more Romance?
A Highlander Forged in Fire
Never miss a thing
Thank you
About the Author
Thank you
I want to personally thank you for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me. It’s a blessing to have the opportunity to share with you, my passion for writing, through my stories.
As a FREE GIFT, I am giving you a link to my first novel. It has more than 100 reviews, with an average rating of 4.5 out of 5
It is called “Stealing the Highland Bride”, and you can get it for FREE.
Please note that this story is only available for YOU as a subscriber and hasn't been published anywhere else.
Please click on the cover to download the book
About the book
They were stripped of choice since birth, but not even the bloodiest of feuds can keep them apart...
Evie watched as her life control was slipping out of her hands. As a member of the Elliots, a family of great legacy, she must adjust to her new role: being the daughter of the Laird.
Evie doesn't want to accept these new responsibilities and her reckless spirit guides her straight to the arms of the man, who is about to bring chaos to the Highlands...
Hamish McBride was born with the heavy responsibility of keeping an alliance with the English. His future as Laird goes hand in hand with his engagement to Isabella, daughter of the infamous Musgrave family.
But all of Hamish's plans will go to hell when he meets a fiery lass. Unable to resist her, his actions will endanger the fragile peace and will wake up old enmities that can only end with blood...
Is one love worth the death of many? And how can one woman's passion unleash so much hate?
There was a fine line between hatred and love… together they crossed all the lines…
* * *
Prologue
As the coffin was lowered into the ground, a tear ran down Evie Elliott’s face. It had begun to rain, and there was a cold, icy wind blowing across the graveyard, causing the gathered clansmen to huddle close together, as the priest intoned the solemn words of burial.
“Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord and may light perpetual shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen,” and they all replied, “Amen.”
Evie made the sign of the cross over herself and turned to her two brothers, who both did the same. Her face was stained with tears, and her hands were shaking.
“Come here, lass, huddle under my cloak,” her brother, Owen, said, and she gladly took shelter with him.
“And that is it, our grandfather is gone,” she said, sniffing and resting her head upon Owen’s shoulder.
“Gone, but nae forgotten,” replied her brother Rory, who was stood at their side.
“He suffered badly at the end,” Owen said, “he is at peace now, and with Lena too,” and he glanced back at the grave.
The old Laird, their grandfather, had been buried in the churchyard of the Kirk in Lochrutton. It was a simple monument, for Alistair Elliott had requested such. He was buried next to Lena, the woman he had come to love and whom Evie and her brothers had always referred to as grandmother. Once more, Evie sighed, and fresh tears ran down her face as she began to sob.
“Come now, Evie. Be strong, our grandfather wouldnae wish to see ye cry,” Owen said, his strong arms holding her close, as Rory nodded.
“Aye, he would tell ye to save yer tears for those that mattered,” he said.
“But he did matter, I miss him terribly,” she replied, for she and her grandfather had always been close.
“And we shall all remember him and give thanks for having done so,” Owen said.
Evie nodded, she knew her grandfather would not wish to see her in such a state, but his death had been so sudden, brought on by a terrible illness and one which she had been powerless to help nurse. Even her father, who was known for his gentle touch and healing arts, had been able to do nothing, and now she looked across to where he stood with her mother at the graveside.
“Tis Mother that I fear for; she has nae been the same since he died,” she said, wiping her eyes as the rain grew heavier around them.
“She is a strong woman and always has been,” Rory said, as the three of them walked together towards their parents, who looked up and nodded to them.
“Mother, Father,” Owen said, and Evie went to put her arms about her mother, who herself was crying.
“We shall all catch our deaths if we stay out here in the rain,” their mother said, holding Evie close.
“Aye, come now, Isla, come now, children. Let us go back to the castle, I for one could dae with a warm hearth and some vitals,” said their father.
Evie nodded, she knew that now her grandfather was gone, her father had a grave responsibility upon him. He had seemed quieter and more reserved in the past few days following the Laird’s death, reluctant to shoulder the burdens of responsibility which were now his and she glanced at him, as arm in arm with her mother, they made their way slowly from the graveyard.
His face seemed worn and weather-beaten, as though the title he now possessed had aged him. Her father had always seemed so young and carefree, the perpetual youth, but now he had a look about him as though he realized the grave destiny which fate had now forged. One which would burden him for the rest of his life, which of course it would, and would see much heartache and difficulty. She loved her father as much, if not more, as her grandfather, but with the Liard’s passing, she knew that things had changed. No longer would they simply be a family, the five of them together, but instead, her father would be head of the clan and take on the great task of governance and oversight, which now was his. It was a daunting task and one which Evie knew would cause him much struggle, for her father was not a natural leader of men.
She looked too at her brother Owen. He, too, had taken on a different air in these past days. No longer the grandson of the Laird, but the heir apparent. He had begun to walk differently, as odd as that may sound. He held himself up a little higher, and his shoulders no longer slouched, as they had done during his younger years. He had gone from youth to man in just a few days, and the change was quite remarkable. As for Rory, he seemed the sam
e as ever, and she wondered if he had really mourned at all for their grandfather; he had seemed distracted recently, as though something was bearing upon his mind, though Evie knew not what. He always kept his feelings close, and despite his being her brother, she really knew very little of him.
“Uncle Duncan is there,” Owen said as they emerged from the graveyard onto the track, which led to the village.
“Aye, he kept vigil in the church while we went to the place of burial,” their father said, as their uncle nodded, a grave look upon his face.
He was stood under an oak tree, sheltering from the rain, his hands folded into his monk’s habit, and he hurried across to them, his feet squelching in the mud.
“Fraser, I will join ye at Kirklinton for the night. ‘Tis too late to return to Lanercost now, but in the morning, I shall offer Mass for yer father’s soul,” he said, placing a comforting hand upon Isla’s shoulder.
“Ye are very kind, Duncan,” Isla said, smiling at him.
“Kirklinton? We were goin’ to go home,” her father said, looking around him at the others, but Isla took his hand.
“The clan will expect us to go to Kirklinton now, Fraser,” Isla said, and Evie watched as her father sighed heavily.
“Aye, very well. There is nay escapin’ it; I suppose,” he replied, and together they made their mournful way through the village.
Her uncle followed behind, his head bowed, as though in silent prayer, and indeed, no one said much until they arrived outside the blacksmith’s workshop.
“Life was far simpler here,” her father said, turning to her uncle, who shook his head.
“It might have seemed so, but neither of us was truly happy here,” he replied, as, from behind, there came a shout.
“ Sweeney,” her mother said, and Evie turned to see her Godfather hurrying up the track behind them.
“Laird, the clansmen have gone on ahead. They are expecting ye at Kirklinton,” he said, as her father sighed.
“Aye, duty calls us. What is the mood amongst them?” her father said.
“Sorrow, but they are loyal to ye, Laird,” Sweeney replied.
“I cannae get used to ye callin’ me that, Sweeney. Fraser will dae when we are nae in company, and that goes for the rest of ye. I shall nae have my family bowin’ and scrapin’ to me, simply because I am now titled and Owen, I daenae expect ye to begin laudin’ it over others either. We are humble people, and I shall nae have us known as anythin’ else. Is that understood?” her father said.
“Aye, father,” Owen replied, “I have nay more wish to be Laird than ye dae.”
“But that time will come, Owen. Just as it has done for me,” Fraser replied, “come now, we will nae stand around in the rain any longer. Hurry along now.”
Together, the family, along with Sweeney, made their way up the hill and out of the village. The rain was falling heavily now, and dark clouds hung low across the moorlands. Evie had never liked the castle at Kirklinton. It had always seemed so dark and foreboding, compared to their own home across the heathers. She had lived there ever since she could remember, the same castle in which her mother had been born and which had been so cruelly burned by the English all those years ago. Now, restored by her father, it stood as a symbol of strength against the English. The borderlands were still fraught with danger, and the rumor of an English threat hung heavily in the air.
“Will we really live here?” she asked her mother, as they came to the castle gates.
“We shall, it was good enough for me when I was a bairn and yer grandfather took me in,” her mother replied, as they stood looking up at the keep towering high above them.
“I never liked it when ye and father would go away, and we bairns were sent here to stay with our grandfather, twas always so draughty and cold,” Evie said, remembering the long dark nights she had spent in the castle keep when she was younger.
“I hope ye never said that to yer grandmother. I can tell ye that this draughty old castle was far better than her life at the hands of the Musgraves,” Isla replied, as Fraser and her brothers led them inside.
“Aye, mother, I know,” Evie said.
She had been raised on the stories of the past and knew them all by heart. How her father had not known that his father was the Laird for many years and that her grandmother had been forced to flee after the birth of the child, ending up at the hands of the English Musgraves. It was a story she liked to hear, though her mother would always remind her that it involved much suffering. Not least for her, too, made a prisoner of the Musgraves and only saved by the actions of her father, whose daring rescue was the stuff of legend.
“Come now, Evie. We must dae our duty, we have responsibilities, ye know that,” Isla said, and Evie glanced back at her uncle and Godfather, who both nodded.
“Life will be a little different now, lass,” her uncle said, his black monks' habit pulled over his head.
“But I was happy how I was,” she replied, wondering just how different life could be, now that her grandfather was gone.
“All of us have to change, lass. ‘Tis the way of things, but ye have yer brothers, and ye have yer mother and father too. Ye will be all right,” he replied.
“I have ye both too, daenae I?” she said, and her uncle nodded.
“Aye, but I must return to Lanercost soon, I shall leave yer spiritual wellbeing in the hands of Sweeney here,” her uncle replied, smiling at her as they made their way along the track towards the castle.
It was an imposing place, almost foreboding. Its grey walls and battlements rising up out of the heathers and around it a motley collection of outhouses and stables. Evie had never liked it, a grim place which held little attraction except as a fortress against the marauding English and the many enemies which her grandfather had made over the years.
As they arrived at the castle gates, they were met by the captain of the guard. Evie watched, as her father conducted a hushed conversation with the man, whose face was grave.
“There is trouble on the borders,” her father said, turning to Evie and the others, “the road to Lanercost will nae be safe for ye, brother.”
“A monk’s habit is still protection enough, even in these dark days. Nay man would kill a monk,” Duncan replied.
“We are nae dealin’ with reasonable men, brother. Our enemies are on the move and ‘tis nae safe to walk the road. The English threaten us and make allies of those who should be our friends,” Fraser replied.
“Then we must prepare for the worst,” Isla replied, and Evie took hold of her mother’s hand.
“What will happen, mother?” she whispered, turning to Isla, who squeezed her hand.
“I daenae know, Evie. But we shall be ready to face our enemies. Just as we always have,” Isla replied.
Evie followed the others through the castle gates, and as they swung shut, a sense of foreboding came upon her. Life would be very different now, and she knew a new era had begun for them all. Could this castle really protect them, or were the borders now more dangerous than ever? She felt afraid, helpless even, her fate in the hands of others.
“It will be all right, lass,” her uncle said, catching her by the arm as they crossed the courtyard towards the keep.
“How dae ye know, uncle?” she asked.
“Because I have trust in yer father and because he raised ye and yer brothers to be strong,” Duncan replied.
“Life will be very different now, though, will it nae?” Evie asked, and he nodded.
“It will, but full of surprises too,” he replied and patted her on the arm.
Evie could only wonder at what he meant, though her uncle always seemed to possess an insight beyond which others knew. She followed him inside, as from above the rain began to fall even harder and dark clouds settled over the castle. This new life was not what she had hoped for, and she could only feel fear for what was to come, the memory of her grandfather lingering, the future uncertain.
Chapter One
The rai
n persisted for three whole days. It was as though her grandfather’s death had left a cloud hanging over the borders. A mist hung in the air too, and there was a dank and dreary atmosphere about the place, such that it sent Evie into a deep depression. Her uncle had returned to the monastery at Lanercost, and her brothers returned to their work with her father, leaving Evie and her mother alone during the day.
A Highlander Born From Chaos (Highlanders 0f Kirklinton Book 2) Page 1