Table of Contents
HIGHLAND WISH
Acknowledgements
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
Table of Contents
HIGHLAND WISH
Acknowledgements
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
HIGHLAND WISH
COLLEEN MACGREGOR
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
HIGHLAND WISH
Copyright©2017
COLLEEN MACGREGOR
Cover Design by Anna Lena-Spies
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Published in the United States of America by
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ISBN: 978-1-68291-574-5
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For my family
Acknowledgements
For my family, for believing in me. For the ladies at CTRWA, for encouraging me. For Debby, for taking a chance on me.
Chapter 1
What is it about a man in a kilt that makes even the most reasonable, educated women act like silly schoolgirls?
I contemplate this as a bus full of the some of the sharpest, most well-educated women I know giggle and blush whenever Dougal or Seamus smiles at them. A few of the groom’s friends met us at the airport to escort us to the castle. The castle where in two days, one of my best friends will get married.
“Hey, Kate, do you think they are wearing anything under those kilts?” Ava peers over the rims of her tortoise-shell glasses and smiles as she waggles her perfect eyebrows.
“Shhhh, Ava! What if he hears you? This bus isn’t that big.” I admonish but I can’t help but smile. She hasn’t changed a bit.
I’ve known Ava since freshman year of high school when, on the very first day, she walked up to me and proclaimed us best friends. And so we’ve been best friends ever since.
“Kate, you will not be a fun sucker. You are going to find a man, enjoy yourself and go home with a good story or two. You will not visit any museums or historical sites, sweetie. No culture. Only hot men and even hotter sex. Have I made myself clear?”
I can only chuckle. She’s right. I can be too uptight sometimes. This is a good opportunity to let my hair down and party. Maddy, the final member of our trio, has wedding planners and a full staff at the castle to run the wedding so all I need to do is enjoy.
Madison is a force of nature. We met at the school bookstore, both of us buying our English lit books. Now, she’s a partner in her firm.
“Hot men and hot sex, yes, ma’am, but what’s wrong with adding a little culture to our great kilt adventure, hmm?” I ask.
“Only if you have hot sex on some historical monument are you allowed to do anything cultural.” Ava rolls her eyes and then goes back to smiling at Angus and his charming friends.
Ava said it loud enough to catch the attention of every male on the bus. If I’m being honest, men would probably hear a mouse whisper about sex.
“Och, lass, we’ll take good care of yer friend, ye ken be sure of that.” Colum smiles and winks at me as he answers Ava.
I swear, charm must be a prerequisite for being Scottish. Is there something in the water? Chuckling, I go back to my laptop as Ava eases into a conversation with the handsome Scot. I can’t hear what they’re saying but the soft cadence is a lovely backdrop to the grandeur of verdant hills, blue skies, and seemingly endless walls of stone. The purple patches of thistle cling to the hills like a blanket on a cool night and I feel at home.
An odd feeling considering I’ve never been to Scotland before.
My best friends have been my family for as long as I can remember. Ava and Madison are like the sisters I never had. I was raised by my grandmother since my parents died in a car accident when I was a toddler. Surrounded by books at a young age, the written word has always called to me.
I am an editor at a publishing house in New York. I love books. There’s nothing like a good story. I love the written word. I’m a city girl armed with my education and four-inch heels. I like men in suits, crisp and freshly pressed. Clean-shaven, witty, educated men who can discuss books and art. James Bond meets James Franco. Those are men that I can handle. In the city, surrounded by Starbucks and skyscrapers, I’m in my element.
Here, surrounded by big burly men in kilts, I find myself ill-equipped.
I’m sure I can get through one week in the Highlands among the verdant hills and stones standing sentinel over castles long since occupied. Ava and I are here to support Maddy. She’s marrying a Scot, and apparently, he has quite a bit of family still in the Highlands. She thought it would be romantic to have the ceremony in a castle. She and Ian, her fiancé, spared no expense.
A city girl at heart, even I can acknowledge the beauty of this land. The rolling hills, the standing stones, the lakes and the castles—it’s like a land lost in time. I feel like I’m walking through history.
I can practically hear the bagpipes trilling as we drive through the mountains to the castle. Every once in a while, when we have to stop to let sheep cross the road, Ava slides me a look. I know exactly what she’s thinking. Sheep. The only sheep I’ve ever seen were at a petting zoo. The driver of our bus regales us with lots of history as he effortlessly maneuvers the narrow streets. He’s a lovely older gentleman with ruddy cheeks, sparkling eyes, and bushy eyebrows. And, if I’m being honest, I can’t understand a word he’s said, but he’s sweet and has friendly eyes. His voice, though colored with a strong accent, is like an ancient song.
I lean my head back and listen to the laughter, the good-natured flirting and genuinely look forward to the festivities. Maddy has requested authentic Scottish fare. She even went to far as to hire storytellers and musicians. On our agenda, I note the horseback riding and even a whiskey tasting. She wants us
to have the full Highland experience. And as Ava was quick to point out, the Highland experience involves getting close up and personal with some handsome Scots.
Though I have traveled quite a bit, Paris and Venice being two of my favorite places, I hadn’t expected to be so in awe of mountains and stone. But this place is a scene out of a fairy tale.
Magic and mountains and men. I can’t help but abandon my emails, lean my head back, and dream of tall Scots warriors and dark eyes full of lust.
“Wake up, princess.” Ava nudges my shoulder to rouse me.
Looking around, I see that we’ve arrived at our destination, Crathes Castle.
“What were you dreaming about, Kate?” Ava asks as I gather my things from the bus. “You were smiling in your sleep.”
Still drowsy I giggle. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Crathes Castle, nestled in the countryside of Aberdeen, is everything you’d imagine a Scottish castle to be. All at once it gives the impression of strength and culture. It’s imposing, yet welcoming; formidable, yet gentle. It’s as rugged and refined as the land itself.
There are stained-glass windows, fanciful gardens, and turrets. I’ve stepped back through time wearing Tory Burch boots and Chanel gloss. This is going to be a grand adventure. I can feel it.
It’s a soft breeze tickling my skin. As though I’m being reunited with a lover. It’s a strange anticipation. But how can I feel like I belong somewhere I’ve never been?
We’re shown to our rooms and given time to get settled. Though the itinerary is pretty packed, Maddy’s given us time prior to our welcome dinner tonight. I take the opportunity to unpack and shower.
Once I’ve had the chance to freshen up, I head downstairs to the main floor to join my friends. Dressed in an emerald-green strapless Dior, my hair in a low bun and four-inch Prada masterpieces. I feel like myself again.
“Kate!” Maddy hugs me and twirls me around.
“Maddy!” We’re both squealing and hugging like eight-year-olds. Of course, we’d be the only eight-year-olds in matching Prada. What can I say? We like nice shoes. Totally impractical on cobblestone but, hey, when in Rome . . .
“Come with me. Let’s get a bev, and I’ll show you around.” Maddy grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bar. Floor-to-ceiling stained-glass windows sparkle like a symphony of color, and our heels are a clinking, clattering, chorus as our nude Prada’s flitter along the ancient cobblestone.
A handsome man with a silver platter stands before us as if summoned from the God of Champagne and hands us our drinks. Maddy is as bubbly as the champagne I’m holding.
“You look gorgeous, sweetie. How was your trip? Have you seen the groomsmen? How do you like your room?” Maddy fires off her questions barely able to contain herself. Her enthusiasm is contagious.
“You do, too! It was awesome. I’ve met a few on the bus. The room is perfect.” I answer all her questions in quick succession. I’m used to Maddy. She’s always a ball of energy but even more so in the midst of her wedding festivities.
“Hey sexy ladies!” Ava hugs us and we all embrace like long-lost sisters. It’s true that a day doesn’t go by that we don’t see each other or talk but we’re so excited for this wedding that we can’t help but rejoice in each other’s company.
“Did you see the tall dark-haired guy with the wearing the kilt?” Ava inclines her head toward a group of well-appointed groomsmen, and Maddy and I laugh.
“Ava, honey, you have to be more specific,” I say. “I think that describes half of this country,” I add as I scan the room. Tall, smiling men in kilts with hairy knees and broad shoulders fill the room and I think I may have to start looking at investing in property in this lovely country.
“I think I’m in love,” I say and two sets of eyes answer me.
“Me, too,” Ava replies, and Maddy laughs.
“Ladies, did I not tell you that Ian’s friends are hot?” Maddy whispers to us as we giggle.
There’s nothing like donning high heels and sipping champagne to wipe away the stress of everyday life.
“Yes. Yes, you may have mentioned that fact once or twice sweetie,” Ava replies.
We grab a seat at one of the tables and chat. Crystal vases full of wildflowers smile at us and I can’t help but smile back.
“It’s a good thing you’re alone, Kate. There are so many single guys here. You’re going to have a blast.” Only Maddy can make being alone at a wedding sound fun.
“So what’s next on the agenda Maddy?” I ask.
“Nice change of subject, Kate.” Ava laughs at me.
“Well, you know I like my freedom. There are still so many things on my list to do,” I reply. I’m usually so sure of enjoying my independence but somehow, surrounded by so much love and the joy of the wedding, I’m wondering what that day would be like for me.
“Yes, the list of things to accomplish is noble, hon, but who says you have to do those things alone? You can do them with a husband, ya know?” Maddy likes to remind me of this fact every time this subject comes up.
“I can go on a hot air balloon ride over the plains of Africa and drive a convertible through Tuscany,” I answer, “but I want to know that I can do those things on my own.”
“Anyway,” I continue, “if I go with some guy, what am I going to do with the guy I meet along the way?” I laugh and wink at her.
“Oh, now, I like how you think, Kate! I’ll be your wingman.” Ava smiles and sips her champagne.
“What’s this? Are you ladies drinking bubbles?” Ian joins us with a bottle of whiskey in hand.
“When in Scotland, ye must try the whiskey.” He smiles as he pulls Maddy to him and kisses her like his life depends on it.
Now, I’m used to cosmopolitans and chardonnay. Whiskey is another experience entirely. It’s hearty, warm, like a meal in itself.
As I look around for a glass to pour the golden liquid into, I see Ava put the bottle to her lips and take a swig. Ms. Manhattan drinking from a bottle. Now I’ve seen it all.
“Here ya go, Katie! Sláinte!” I take a drink from the communal bottle.
Ian’s friends and family are lovely. His Uncle James must know every historical battle that’s occurred in the last two hundred years. His brogue is as thick as the stones of the castle walls. And the more whiskey we drink, the more I think I understand him. It’s fascinating, really. The battles for independence, for liberation, and for borders, so many stories. Then there are the tales of love. I’m a hopeless romantic at heart.
As we sit around the massive stone fireplace, James tells us of the history of Crathes and of the lady who roams the halls and the grounds. My skin prickles as he describes the land upon which the castle is built and why this lady is still roaming. She’s looking for her love. Waiting. I feel an inexplicable kinship with this spirit. She’s unsettled, searching for something that’s missing. What am I missing? I’ve accomplished most of my short-term goals. Yet, I have a sense that I’m missing something.
My thoughts are pulled back to the story as I hear Ava’s good-natured laughter.
“Magic coins? C’mon, James. I was with you until you got to magic coins. Is that like magic beans?”
James explains that the coins in the garden fountain are magic. If you make a wish from your heart, that wish will come true.
“Ach, lass, do you not believe in magic?” James asks with a twinkle in his eye.
“Like Santa and the Tooth Fairy? No. If I can see it and touch it, then it’s real,” Ava replies.
Smiling to myself as the blazing fire warms my skin, I wonder about the lady waiting for her love.
“And you, Kate, you surely ken it to be true?” James pulls me back from my musings.
“What’s that? Do I believe in magic?” I ask, and he nods with a
smile. And before I can answer, drums beat, calling the castle to its dance. Everyone jumps to their feet and rushes to the grand ballroom.
“Come now, lass.” James offers his hand but I can’t seem to move from my spot.
“I think I’ll rest here a moment, thank you.” I grin.
“Nonsense.” He laughs and pulls me from the floor like a little girl.
As he twirls me around, I wonder if the bagpipes beckon the spirits to this place. Do the ancients long for warmth on a cool night?
My heartbeat has synchronized with the drums and fiddles, and I don’t know where the music begins and my body ends. This has to be what magic feels like.
Before I close my eyes that night, I wonder if my destiny is somehow connected with this place. The drums are still beating in the quiet. The stones of the castle walls whisper softly of ancient stories.
I love a good love story. It’s what I like to read and why I’m an editor. To believe in love, one must believe in magic. Perhaps I’ve lost a little of that wonder and magic in the day-to-day grind of city life. Perhaps the story resonates because that’s what I’m missing. Magic.
As the night winds down and my warm cheek presses against the cold pillow, the last thought I have is of a sparkling coin and a song on the breeze. A song only I can hear.
~ ~ ~
The next morning is Maddy’s wedding day, the day she’s been planning for a year. The frenetic energy is palpable. When we were first asked to be in her wedding, we thought we would end up wearing tartan and corsets. Thank goodness our girl didn’t go for the full Highland experience. Instead, she opted for black silk sheath dresses and Manolos. I spent the year growing out my bob haircut so I could wear it in a chignon like Ava.
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