Medieval Ever After

by Kathryn Le Veque

  THE SUMMERHILL SERIES

  One Summerhill Day

  A Fresh Start for Two

  REGENCY

  The Duke and the Dressmaker

  RESCUED BY A HIGHLANDER

  CHAPTER ONE

  Scotland, the 1200s

  Warm fluid meandered down her cheek into the cracked corner of her mouth. Madeline MacDonald caught the blood with her tongue, and the saltiness invaded her senses. She forced herself to stand tall and unflinching as she watched her stepbrother’s hand swing in a wide arc before it connected with her other cheek. Steeling herself not to cry out in pain, she stared into his eyes, trying to gauge his mood. Experience had taught her that if she cried out, he enjoyed it more, and the beating would last longer.

  The chamber was silent except for the distant sound of a slow, piercing drip off in the distance. Blood pounded through her heart in fear. Her instinct was to run, but she knew there was no escaping Kenneth. Her hand trembled as she reached up to wipe the blood from her face. The touch of her own fingers sent pain rippling through her body, but still she made no sound. Her breathing became faster, more frantic. She needed to stay in control. Closing her eyes, she willed her heart to slow, but to no avail. How long would this beating last? Each time she toughened a bit, so he wouldn’t be able to break her so easily today.

  A perverse pleasure washed over her stepbrother’s face. He was a cruel, uncaring man—a fact she had learned all too well since her parents’ death two years ago.

  He leaned in close to her, grabbing her by the throat. “You will marry him. Do you hear me, bitch? You will not ruin all my plans. You will marry Niles Comming in less than a fortnight. Agreed, Madeline?” Kenneth MacDonald’s spittle just missed her face.

  In a quick turnabout, he released her and began pacing the chamber. “I could force you. I don’t need your approval. I know just the priest to bring here. He would never deny me.” Kenneth’s head bobbed as he continued to walk back and forth in front of her. “But you have the following of half the clan. I cannot afford any revolt from my guards or the servants. You will do my bidding so as not to upset your clan. Understood?”

  Madeline reached down to her core for the effort she needed to shake her head. She would never marry the Comming—the man who had raped her—no matter how her stepbrother threatened her.

  “You dare to refuse me again?” Kenneth bellowed.

  Yes, just as I have before. I will endure the beatings. They could never be as bad as the humiliation and pain she had endured at the hands of their neighboring laird.

  Madeline willed her body to relax. Bones were less likely to break if she was calm. But Kenneth’s fist aimed straight for her belly, sending visceral pain exploding through her body. She lost her footing and slammed into the cold stone floor. As her stepbrother’s foot shot out toward her middle, she attempted to curl into a ball, but her reflexes were too slow. The pain that shot through her body made the world around her fade to darkness.

  ***

  Sitting at the dais of the MacDonald keep, Laird Alexander Grant found himself staring at the filth coating the rushes on the floor of the great hall. The place had definitely deteriorated since his last visit. He glanced at his brother, Brodie, as their host, Kenneth MacDonald, barked orders.

  “Get us ale, you lazy wench,” Kenneth bellowed to a maid as he swatted her behind to motivate her.

  “Aye, my laird,” she mumbled, hurrying toward the kitchen.

  “My apologies, Laird Grant. My stepsister usually handles everything in the kitchens, but she is ill at present. See how lazy the wenches are when she is no’ around? My servants are no’ worth the food I give them.” Kenneth clambered onto the bench at his table, sweeping crumbs and debris onto the floor around them.

  Alex checked his annoyance before he spoke. “Laird MacDonald, we do no’ mean to be a bother. We will be on our way as soon as we discuss our concerns with you. We are dealing with more and more small attacks and thievery on our lands. There must be new reivers. Have you seen the same here?”

  “Nay, no one dares to bother us. My guards are too strong. Reivers, you say?” Kenneth turned his head away as he spoke.

  Alex caught a subtle shift in his host’s eyes. He assessed his neighboring laird carefully before he spoke. “We have not caught up with them, but rest assured that we will. Summer is the time to call on neighbors, in any case, and it was time for us to visit.”

  “I cannot help you with your problem. You are welcome to stay the night before you are on your way,” Kenneth said.

  Brodie spoke quickly, “Nay, there is no need. A drink will be much appreciated before we take our leave. We have much ground to cover before we return to our lands.”

  Alex’s vision wandered around the dirty hall. There were no beautiful tapestries here, and no chairs with cushions. The stench of sour food permeated his nostrils. His sister, Brenna, kept everything spotless in his keep. His hall spoke of the rich Grant clan history. He was proud of the weapons on display, of the craftsmanship evident in the high-back chairs and tables. After seeing this disaster, he would be sure to thank his sister more often for her hard work. Unlike this laird, Alex believed in treating all his clan well. Even the man’s dogs stayed far away from him.

  Instinct took over as he turned back to face his host. “Nay, Brodie, I will accept the laird’s offer. I would like a good night’s rest before we continue. Tell the guards we stay one night.”

  Brodie glared at him, clearly wishing to be away from this place. Alex knew his decision to stay did not make sense, but something was not right here. He could hear his father’s words clearly in his mind: Follow your instincts, son, they will never let you down.

  His instincts told him to stay.

  ***

  Madeline attempted to open her eyes. One must’ve been swollen shut, as it didn’t move. She could see well enough to realize she was in her chamber. It was not the beautiful chamber she had resided in while her parents were alive, but the spare, cold chamber her stepbrother had moved her into after their death. Attempting to roll, she groaned as her bruises hit hard wood and sharp pain seared through her midsection. The pallet was no longer filled with soft feathers—he had taken her every comfort. Instantly, her maid, Alice, filled her line of vision.

  “Maddie, oh, Maddie, are you all right, my dear?” Alice asked.

  Her feeble attempt to follow Alice’s nervous movements failed. “Alice, please stay still, my head is pounding enough.”

  “Oh, Mac and I have been beside ourselves with worry. You may have at least one broken rib, and your eye is swollen shut. Can you see? Tell me he did not blind you. Please, Maddie.”

  “Alice,” Maddie croaked, “I am fine. Mayhap some water, please?”

  “Of course.” Alice brought a cup to her lips to help her drink. “What shall we do? He will kill you eventually. Would you not be better with Niles Comming? He cannot be as bad as Kenneth. Say yes, please! Agree to the wedding. I cannot bear to lose you. I promised your dear mother I would take care of you.”

  Painful memories of the large, cruel body of Niles Comming forced their way into her mind. “Nay, I will not marry him. I must find my way to a convent. I will never be able to bear any man’s touch.” Maddie’s eyes closed as she finished the last of the water.

  ***

  Brodie followed Alex through the corridor to the two chambers they had been given for the night.

  “Alex, you must be out of your head. Why stay in this filthy place? I would rather sleep under the stars with our men.”

  “I don’t know why, but something is no’ right. We stay. Get some sleep.” Alex nodded toward Brodie’s door down the corridor before stepping into his own chamber.

  After spying the thin straw mattress on the pallet, he sighed. Why was he here? He peered around the chamber. Dust covered almost every surface. Though he removed his sword, he set it next to his bed in case of an attack in the night. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the stale rushes on
the floor. A small knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and a dark haired woman crept into the room when he bade her to enter.

  She curtsied to Alex. “My laird sent me to be at your service this night.” She leaned toward him, offering him a view of her ample bosom.

  Alex stared at the woman. She had soft curves, and he hadn’t been with a woman in a sennight. He should probably accept the gift.

  But he could not. The fear in her eyes was too much for him. What a cruel man her laird must be.

  “Lass, I will tell your laird that you served me well, but I find I am too tired to see to it.”

  “Please, I will do anything you ask, but do no’ send me back now.”

  Alex searched her face and found it to be truthful. The lass had chewed her lip hard enough to draw blood.

  “See to my brother, lass. I will not send you back to your laird.”

  “Thank you, thank you.” She spun on her heel and rushed out the door.

  Alex sat on the pallet, stirring up a cloud of dust. What was wrong with him lately? He used to pay frequent visits to certain women in his village, but he had yet to meet any woman who sparked anything beyond lust. And lust was easily sated. In truth, he wanted a relationship like his parents had enjoyed. They had adored each other. Of late, he was less interested in the meaningless dalliance he used to seek out.

  Now that he had lost his father not long ago and officially became laird of his clan, he was too busy to think about finding a partner. He had been betrothed once, but it had left him cold. The woman had not been one of his choosing, so the breakup certainly had not upset him. Maybe he was not meant to be a husband or a father. His father had told him he was born to lead. Would that be enough?

  Alex found himself walking toward the door. He entered the corridor and looked in both directions. The parapet, he needed to find the parapet. That was what he needed this night. He knew the cool night air would help clear his head. If he opened enough doors, he was certain he would find the right one.

  He headed down the corridor, shaking his head at the giggling sounds he heard from within his brother’s chamber. The next chamber was empty. He moved on to the door after that and opened it quietly.

  Just as he was about to close it, he froze. The room was dark, but the candle from the corridor lit the side of a woman’s face asleep on the bed. Following his instincts once more, he took two more steps into the room, found a nearby candle, and closed the door behind him.

  She was asleep on her side. Her gentle curves were visible through the thin blanket that covered her to her chin. He wanted to step closer, but did not dare, lest he wake her. As he inhaled her lavender scent, a strange sense of peace entered him. Her hair fell in soft golden waves over her shoulders. Who was she? Was this the laird’s stepsister?

  His eyes fell on her full pink lips and he was hard instantly. He ran his eyes down her body again. She had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He returned his gaze to her face and took note of her porcelain skin and her small pert nose. Her long lashes rested on high cheekbones. But what he noticed next caused his erection to leave him in an instant.

  She had been beaten. He stepped closer and brought the candle close enough for him to see the dried blood and swollen bruises on the other side of her face. She was the vision of an angel, and someone had beaten her. Anger raced through his veins, followed fast by protectiveness. He could see some discolorations on the soft, exposed skin of her neck. He reached down, wanting to touch her and comfort her. Wanting to protect her from whoever had done this.

  Her eyes flew open, and he was instantly lost in an ocean of blue. Realizing how she would probably interpret his sudden presence in her room, he expected a scream. Instead, she pulled away from him, groaned in pain and whispered, “Nay.”

  Not wanting to confuse or frighten her, he turned and fled. He found the door to the parapet at the end of the corridor and raced up the stairs.

  But neither the view nor the night air brought him any peace. Who was the beautiful woman? And who had hurt her?

  He would find out.

  RESCUED BY A HIGHLANDER

  CHAPTER TWO

  Alex hadn’t been able to sleep much. The few times he had been able to doze, a blonde angel had called to him in his dreams, but he had never managed to reach her. He raked his hand over his face as he paced in the great hall, thinking of the beautiful woman he had seen last night. Had he dreamed it? Who would beat a woman so? He had never seen his father raise a hand to his mother, and he had been raised to protect—not hurt—the fairer sex.

  Brodie’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “We need to get away from here. The keep was never like this when the previous MacDonald laird was in charge.”

  Alex pulled up short and stared at his younger brother. Should he tell him? He shook his head. Tell him what? He had found an angel who had been grossly beaten? What could two of them do about it, anyway? They only had a few of their own guards outside, and they were in a strange man’s keep, surrounded by the laird’s own guardsmen. Before he had time to give it more thought, the laird entered from outside.

  Alex spoke bluntly. “Laird, you made mention of a stepsister. Is she of age to be married?” He had to ask to settle his mind. After all, who else could it be? He had mentioned his stepsister being ill, and the angel had been shut into a bedroom above the great hall.

  “Madeline? Madeline is long in the tooth, unfortunately. She is to wed my neighbor, Niles Comming. Good riddance to her. The Comming will know how to get her to behave. He will take her strong mind and crush it quick, which is as it should be. Her father spoiled her and I cannot wait to get her wed. She is naught but trouble to me.”

  Alex noticed the servants kept their eyes focused on the floor as their laird spoke. One finally dared to peek at Kenneth behind his back, her eyes seething. Was MacDonald lying about his stepsister? Even if she were as much of a shrew as he claimed, who would give one of their own kin to Niles Comming? The man had a horrific reputation in the Highlands. He was cruel to every woman unfortunate enough to make his acquaintance. Alex pressed the issue further, unable to stop himself.

  “Is she fair-haired?” he asked.

  “What interest is it to you?” Kenneth asked with narrowed eyes. “You will never set eyes on her. She stays in her chamber unless I allow her out. Don’t push me, Laird Grant. Be on your way. I have much business to attend to.” And with that, Kenneth turned on his heel and left.

  Alex glanced at his brother. It had to be Madeline he had seen, but what could he do about it? Before he could ponder his choices, his brother forced his hand.

  “’Tis time to take our leave, brother,” Brodie ground out.

  ***

  Madeline opened one eye and realized it was past dawn. She needed to get out of bed. Pushing herself up on one side, she searched the room. The vision of a dark stranger surfaced in her mind.

  “Alice? Alice?” Maddie’s anxiety grew at the thought of a strange man being in her room.

  “Maddie, I am here. What is it?” Alice asked.

  “A man…there was a man right here, someone I did not recognize.” Maddie turned her head slowly to allow her one good eye to search the chamber.

  “Nay, there is no stranger here. No one has entered your chamber this morn.” Alice grabbed Maddie’s hand to rub it in comfort.

  Madeline crumpled back in her bed. She was exhausted. Could she truly have imagined him? His scent was ingrained in her mind. Horse and pine and something else she didn’t recognize.

  Perhaps she was going daft from being shut in this room too often. Her eyes closed and she slept.

  Madeline dreamed of a large, handsome stranger much like the one she’d thought she’d seen. He reached for her and caressed her cheek. He tried to tell her something, but she could not understand his words. His arms reached for her and pulled her into a warm, comforting embrace.

  Wrapping her arms around the strange man, Maddie rested her head on his chest and sighe
d, letting his warm breath caress her forehead. His gentle touch eased her mind. She was finally safe again—something she had not imagined she’d ever feel with such a big, strong man.

  But who was this mystery man?

  ***

  Alex and Brodie made their way to the stables to retrieve their horses. Alex nodded at the stable master.

  “Good day to you, Laird Grant. The name is Mac. Any other way I can be of service to you?” Mac asked as he led his horse to him.

  “Nay, Mac.” Alex reached for Midnight. He could tell his favorite horse had been treated well by the exuberant way Midnight greeted him.

  “Nice piece of horse flesh, Laird.”

  “Aye, he is. Have you been here long?” Alex raised an eyebrow at the stable master. Perhaps this man could tell him more about his angel. He had to ask.

  “Started with the old laird, James MacDonald,” Mac said. He lowered his voice. “Naught like the new laird.”

  Alex stared at the stable master. The man did not seem overly loyal to his master. How much would he be willing to say?

  Alex decided to take a chance. “There be a young, yellow-haired lass here?”

  “Aye, the old laird’s daughter, Madeline.” His eyes crinkled in the corners, clearly demonstrating his fondness for the lass. “Sweetest lass in the Highlands, e’en if she was born part English. Her maid be my wife. She came here when the laird brought the English lass, Elizabeth, here to wed. There were none kinder than James and Elizabeth MacDonald, and none fairer than their daughter.”

  “My sister, Brenna, mentioned her. She remembers Elizabeth visiting our keep long ago with her daughter.” Alex ran his hand down Midnight’s coat, appreciating how carefully Mac had brushed his horse.

  “Is that so?” Mac would have said more, but he was silenced by his laird’s sharp entrance.

  “Mind your tongue, Mac.” Kenneth appeared in their view on his horse. “’Tis time for you to be on your way, Grant. I will not say it again.” He turned and brought his crop down hard on his horse’s flank and sped away.