by Paula Quinn
That time had come.
Davina knew that Edward would do anything to save her. He told her often, each time he warned her of her peril. Diligently, he taught her to trust no one, not even those who claimed to love her. His lessons often left her feeling a bit hopeless, though she never told him that, either.
“Would that I could slay your enemies,” he swore to her now, “and your fears along with them.”
He meant to comfort her, but good heavens, she didn’t want to discuss the future on such a breathtaking night. “Thanks to you and God,” she said, leaving the wall to go to him and tossing him a playful smile, “I can slay them myself.”
“I agree,” he surrendered, his good mood restored by the time she reached him. “You’ve learned your lessons in defense well.”
She rested her hand on his arm and gave it a soft pat. “How could I disappoint you when you risked the Abbess’s consternation to teach me?”
He laughed with her, both of them comfortable in their familiarity. But too soon he grew serious again.
“James is to be crowned in less than a se’nnight.”
“I know.” Davina nodded and turned toward England again. She refused to let her fears control her. “Mayhap,” she said with a bit of defiance sparking her doleful gaze, “we should attend the coronation, Edward. Who would think to look for me at Westminster?”
“My lady…” He reached for her. “We cannot. You know—”
“I jest, dear friend.” She angled her head to speak to him over her shoulder, carefully cloaking the struggle that weighed heaviest upon her heart, a struggle that had nothing to do with fear. “Really, Edward, must we speak of this?”
“Yes, I think we should,” he answered earnestly, then went on swiftly, before she could argue, “I’ve asked the Abbess if we can move you to Courlochcraig Abbey in Ayr. I’ve already sent word to—”
“Absolutely not,” she stopped him. “I will not leave my home. Besides, we have no reason to believe that my enemies know of me at all.”
“Just for a year or two. Until we’re certain—”
“No,” she told him again, this time turning to face him fully. “Edward, would you have us leave the sisters here alone to face our enemies should they come seeking me? What defense would they have without the strong arms of you and your men? They will not leave St. Christopher’s, nor will I.”
He sighed and shook his head at her. “I cannot argue when you prove yourself more courageous than I. I pray I do not live to regret it. Very well, then.” The lines of his handsome face relaxed. “I shall do as you ask. For now though,” he added, offering her his arm, “allow me to escort you to your chamber. The hour is late and the Reverend Mother will show you no mercy when the cock crows.”
Davina rested one hand in the crook of his arm and waved away his concern with the other. “I don’t mind waking with the sun.”
“Why would you,” he replied, his voice as light now as hers as he led her out of the belfry, “when you can just fall back to sleep in the Study Hall.”
“It was only the one time that I actually slept,” she defended, slapping his arm softly. “And don’t you have more important things to do with your day than follow me around?”
“Three times,” he corrected, ignoring the frown he knew was false. “Once, you even snored.”
Her eyes, as they descended the stairs, were as wide as her mouth. “I have never snored in my life!”
“Save for that one time, then?”
She looked about to deny his charge again, but bit her curling lip instead. “And once during Sister Bernadette’s piano recital. I had penance for a week. Do you remember?”
“How could I forget?” he laughed. “My men did no chores the entire time, preferring to listen at your door while you spoke aloud to God about everything but your transgression.”
“God already knew why I fell asleep,” she explained, smiling at his grin. “I did not wish to speak poorly of Sister Bernadette’s talent, or lack of it, even in my own defense.”
His laughter faded, leaving only a smile that looked to be painful as their walk ended and they stood at her door. When he reached out to take her hand, Davina did her best not to let the surprise in her eyes dissuade him from touching her. “Forgive my boldness, but there is something I must tell you. Something I should have told you long ago.”
“Of course, Edward,” she said softly, keeping her hand in his. “You know you may always speak freely to me.”
“First, I would have you know that you have come to mean—”
“Captain!”
Davina leaned over the stairwell to see Harry Barns, Edward’s second in command, plunge through the Abbey doors. “Captain!” Harry shouted up at them, his face pale and his breath heavy from running. “They are coming!”
For one paralyzing moment, Davina doubted the good of her ears. She’d been warned of this day for four years, but had always prayed it would not come. “Edward,” she asked hollowly, on the verge of sheer panic, “how did they find us so soon after King Charles’s death?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head back and forth as if he too refused to believe what he was hearing. But there was no time for doubt. Spinning on his heel, he gripped her arm and hauled her into her room. “Stay here! Lock your door!”
“What good will that do us?” She sprang for her quiver and bow and headed back to the door, and to Edward blocking it. “Please, dear friend. I do not want to cower alone in my room. I will fire from the bell tower until it is no longer safe to do so.”
“Captain!” Barns raced up the stairs, taking three at a time. “We need to prepare. Now!”
“Edward”—Davina’s voice pulled him back to her—“you trained me for this. We need every arm available. You will not stop me from fighting for my home.”
“Orders, Captain, please!”
Davina looked back once as she raced toward the narrow steps leading back to the tower.
“Harry!” She heard Edward shout behind her. “Prepare the vats and boil the tar. I want every man alert and ready at my command. And Harry…”
“Captain?”
“Wake the sisters and tell them to pray.”
In the early morning hours that passed after the massacre at St. Christopher’s, Edward’s men had managed to kill half of the enemy’s army. But the Abbey’s losses were greater. Far greater.
Alone in the bell tower, Davina stared down at the bodies strewn across the large courtyard. The stench of burning tar and seared flesh stung her nostrils and burned her eyes as she set them beyond the gates to the meadow where men on horseback still hacked away at each other as if their hatred could never be satisfied. But there was no hatred. They fought because of her, though none of them knew her. But she knew them. Her dreams had been plagued with her faceless assassins since the day Edward had first told her of them.
Tears brought on by the pungent air slipped down her cheeks, falling far below to where her friends… her family lay dead or dying. Dragging her palm across her eyes, she searched the bodies for Edward. He’d returned to her an hour after the fighting had begun and ordered her into the chapel with the sisters. When she’d refused, he’d tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and brought her there himself. But she did not remain hidden. She couldn’t, so she’d returned to the tower and her bow and sent more than a dozen of her enemies to meet their Maker. But there were too many—or mayhap God didn’t want the rest, for they slew the men she ate with, laughed with, before her eyes.
She had feared this day for so long that it had become a part of her. She thought she had prepared. At least, for her own death. But not for the Abbess’s. Not for Edward’s. How could anyone prepare to lose those they loved?
Despair ravaged her and for a moment she considered stepping over the wall. If she was dead they would stop. But she had prayed for courage too many times to let God or Edward down now. Reaching into the quiver on her back, she plucked out an arrow, cocked he
r bow, and closed one eye to aim.
Below her and out of her line of vision, a soldier garbed in military regalia not belonging to England crept along the chapel wall with a torch clutched in one fist and a sword in the other.
Also by Paula Quinn
Lord of Desire
Lord of Temptation
Lord of Seduction
Laird of the Mist
A Highlander Never Surrenders
Ravished by a Highlander
Seduced by a Highlander
Tamed by a Highlander
ACCLAIM FOR
PAULA QUINN’S NOVELS
Tamed by a Highlander
“A winning mix of fascinating history and lush romance… Readers will be captivated by the meticulously accurate historical detail… and Connor and Mairi’s searing passion.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Top Pick! Quinn’s talents for weaving history with a sexy and seductive romance are showcased in her latest Highlander series book. This fast-paced tale of political intrigue populated by sensual characters with deeply rooted senses of honor and loyalty is spellbinding… Top-notch Highland romance!”
—RT Book Reviews
“[A] must read… Paula Quinn weaves romance, suspense, and history into a story that unleashes a smoldering desire within the heart of the reader. A breathtaking romance full of history and heart-melting Highlanders.”
—NightOwlReviews.com
“This series is one hit after another and I enjoy it more with each book… Paula Quinn keeps her books historically accurate, which adds to the depth.”
—GoodReads.com
Seduced by a Highlander
“Seduced by a Highlander is sparkling, sexy, and seductive! I couldn’t put it down! Paula Quinn is a rising star!”
—Karen Hawkins, New York Times bestselling author
“Top Pick! An engrossing story brimming with atmosphere and passionate characters… a true keeper.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Scottish romance at its very best! Deliciously romantic and sensual, Paula Quinn captures the heart of the Highlands in a tender, passionate romance that you won’t be able to put down.”
—Monica McCarty, New York Times bestselling author
“A rich tapestry of love, rivalry, and hope… the simmering passion made for very heated scenes… I can’t wait to read more of the family in future books!”
—TheRomanceReadersConnection.com
“Five Stars! Reviewer’s Recommended Award Winner! Paula Quinn went above and beyond my expectations… With a hero to make a heart sigh and a heroine who can match the hero wit to wit, this story is one I highly recommend adding to your bookshelf.”
—CoffeeTimeRomance.com
Ravished by a Highlander
“Deftly combines historical fact and powerful romance… There’s much more than just sizzling sensuality: history buffs will love the attention to periodic detail and cameos by real-life figures, and the protagonists embody compassion, responsibility, and unrelenting, almost self-sacrificial honor. Quinn’s seamless prose and passionate storytelling will leave readers hungry for future installments.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“4½ Stars! Top Pick! Quinn once again captures the aura of the Highlands. Here is an amazing love story where characters’ deep emotions and sense of honor for their countrymen will enchant readers.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Incomparable… Paula Quinn expertly interweaves fact and fiction so well that you will come to truly believe every one of her characters can be found in the pages of history.”
—SingleTitles.com
Dear Reader,
I’ll never forget the excitement and the obsession of getting the first MacGregors of Skye from my head and on to paper. To this day, I tear up when I think of Callum and Maggie, and what Camlochlin meant to them in Laird of the Mist—the book that lit the fire that still burns strong. I was ecstatic to write the next chapter in the lives of this fearsome, mighty clan. I think it’s safe to say that I fell head over heels for every hero in my Children of the Mist series. I swore that no warrior after Rob would make my heart race the way he did. Tristan proved me a terrible liar. Connor distracted me until all I could think about was the slant of his dimpled grin, and Colin… well, let me just say, that he’ll live forever in my heart.
And because of you, loyal readers, the outlawed MacGregors will live on in at least four more installments in my new series, Highland Heirs.
With the proscription reestablished by King William III, the MacGregors are once again outlaws. Yes, they were stripped of their rights again. Don’t worry, this defiant clan doesn’t go down so easily. The next generation is no less troublesome and terrifying than their predecessors were. Most of the time though, they prefer to battle neighboring clansmen and an occasional fleet of pirates rather than ride all the way to England to kick the arses of men who wear wigs. There are, however, those more audacious heirs who have been known to ride hard through the glens and straight into London’s tawdry brothels or private balls to strike at their enemies while their noble heads are absent of wig, and their arses of hose. Which is exactly where we meet our first heir of the series.
We’ll begin with Edmund Dearly, who as a young child melted my heart in Conquered by a Highlander. He’s all grown up… and so much more than brawn. He’s a poet, a musician, and a patriot. But first and foremost, Edmund is a MacGregor. He bears the name of his adopted clan proudly, outlawed or not. He’ll fight for the Highlands and die for his clan. But an excursion into hostile territory and into the arms of a seemingly innocent servant will put to the test everything he’s learned… everything he holds dearest to his heart.
We’ll meet Caitrina Grant, daughter of Connor and Mairi from Tamed by a Highlander, and stowaway aboard a ship belonging to the son of an infamous pirate. We’ll sail with her across the high seas as she tries to retrieve something he stole from Camlochlin. But Captain Alexander Kyd will not relinquish her heart so easily.
In a tale I’m extremely eager to write, we’ll get to know Abigail MacGregor, niece of the reigning Queen Anne and daughter of Rob and Davina from Ravished by a Highlander. Part of my excitement over this story is due to the hero. You see, I know this one already… and quite well. Captain Daniel Marlow didn’t join the queen’s army to escort ladies to England, especially ladies who believe that the Pretender James Stuart is the rightful king of England. Jacobites. They are everything he despises, but every time he looks at Abigail he’s reminded of some ancient Pict queen who refuses to surrender to her Roman foes, and before long the need to possess this haughty handmaiden begins to drive him mad. But when he discovers that royal Stuart blood flows through her veins, will he follow his heart or the duty he swore to the throne when the queen orders him to return to Camlochlin with an army and end the threat of any Catholic heirs once and for all?
The series will conclude with the tale of Adam MacGregor, eldest son and reluctant heir of Camlochlin’s chief. Tall, dark, and drop-dead gorgeous, Adam would rather rob cattle and ride lasses than fight for his name. When he’s forced to marry a stubborn Highland MacLeod lass, he thinks his life couldn’t get any worse, until he begins to fall in love with her. But it’s when she ventures away from Skye and is arrested for bearing his name that Adam’s character is tested and he learns what it truly means to be a MacGregor.
Dear reader, I hope you’ll come along on this newest journey into the lives of Camlochlin’s children. Whether they battle on the field, on the sea, or in the bedchamber, they live and love with the unbridled, untamable passion that belongs only to heirs to the Highlands. And who knows what mischief the rest of the MacGregor clan will get into?
Enjoy!
THE DISH
Where authors give you the inside scoop!
From the desk of Paula Quinn
Dear Reader,
I’m so excited to tell you about my latest in the Children of t
he Mist series, CONQUERED BY A HIGHLANDER. I loved introducing you to Colin MacGregor in Ravished by a Highlander and then meeting up with him again in Tamed by a Highlander, but finally the youngest, battle-hungry MacGregor gets his own story. And let me tell you all, I enjoyed every page, every word.
Colin wasn’t a difficult hero to write. There were no mysteries complicating his character, no ghosts or regrets haunting him from his past. He was born with a passion to fight and to conquer. Nothing more. Nothing less. He was easy to write. He was a badass in Ravished and he’s a hardass now. My dilemma was what kind of woman would it take to win him? The painted birds fluttering about the many courts he’s visited barely held his attention. A warrior wouldn’t suit him any better than a wallflower would. I knew early on that the Lady who tried to take hold of this soldier’s heart had to possess the innate strength to face her fiercest foe… and the tenderness to recognize something more than a fighter in Colin’s confident gaze.
I found Gillian Dearly hidden away in the turrets of a castle overlooking the sea, her fingers busy strumming melodies on her beloved lute while her thoughts carried her to places far beyond her prison walls. She wasn’t waiting for a hero, deciding years ago that she would rescue herself. She was perfect for Colin. She also possessed one other thing, a weapon so powerful, even Colin found himself at the mercy of it.
A three-year-old little boy named Edmund.
Like Colin, I didn’t intend for Edmund Dearly or his mother to change the path of my story, but they brought out something in the warrior—whom I thought I knew so well—something warm and wonderful and infinitely sexier than any swagger. They brought out the man.
For me, nothing I’ve written before this book exemplifies the essence of a true hero more than watching Colin fall in love with Gillian and with her child. Not many things are more valiant than a battle-hardened warrior who puts down his practice sword so he can take a kid fishing or save him from bedtime monsters… except maybe a mother who defiantly goes into battle each day in order to give her child a better life. Gillian Dearly was Edmund’s hero and she quickly became mine. How could a man like Colin not fall in love with her?