Mated By The Demon Collections: Paranormal Romance

by Riley Moreno

  In 18th Century Scotland, dueling is still a recognized and legal method of resolving disputes, and Susan MacGuinness, a quick-thinking, passionate and pretty young woman is no stranger to duelists – having been betrayed and having had her heart broken by the most skilled swordsman in Edinburgh. But when a strong and dashing highlander from the hills walks into her shop one day with an unusual request and a mystery to be solved, Susan finds herself being drawn into the world of life-or-death duels once again – except this time the stakes involve the love of her life, and their future together. Will Susan and her new lover survive the greatest duel of her life? Find out in Scotch Swords, Muskets and Love.

  CHAPTER 1

  Edinburgh, Scotland, July 1782

  Susan MacGuinness stared wistfully out the window, twirling an idle finger in her long, silky auburn hair as she watched the world of Edinburgh passing by. Horse-drawn carriages bumped and shuddered as they rolled along the cobbled street, people moved in a bustling throng, smiling and laughing in the late summer afternoon sunshine. Outside the gray stone buildings were splashed with golden light, and lovers walked arm in arm, stealing kisses and longing glances as they went, while children laughed and danced circles around their parents as they walked. All the world was alive and filled with the joy of summertime – everyone, it seemed, except Susan.

  She sighed and looked away after a few minutes of watching the strangers revel in their collective happiness, and then, after having had too much of it, she closed the window. Still, she couldn't resist one more glance, and she traced a longing finger along the diamond pattern of the lead window frames.

  It was a poorly-chosen moment to look one more time out the window: he was there. With her.

  Seamas McSwiggan. The man she had been supposed to marry; tall, dashingly handsome, and the second son of a nobleman from the hills of West Scotland. A dandy with fine taste in clothes and fashion, and an acute sense for business and profit-making.

  Susan had fallen head over heels for him, and he for her – or so it had seemed. They had been together for just six months when Seamas had proposed marriage, and Susan, being a naïve 21-year-old, had accepted the thirty-year-old's offer without question. Plans had been made, dates had been set, a dress was even made, right here, in her father's dress-making store, at great expense to her family.

  And that was when she had found out about Gertrude.

  And Millie.

  And Emily.

  Susan had never felt like more of an idiot in her life than when she had found out about Seamas's cheating and womanizing ways. That had been a year ago, and of course she had broken off the engagement immediately, but the hurt remained. She had genuinely loved Seamas, even if, as it had turned out, she had been nothing but a plaything for him. Her father had tried to stand up for her honor, and had attempted to demand payment at least for the expensive wedding dress he had made for his daughter, but Seamas – a skilled swordsman, had said that he was quite willing to duel over the matter, and of course Susan's half-blind old father, who had never picked up a weapon in his life, had had to back down.

  Susan shook her head and squeezed her temples between her forefinger and thumb, as if trying to force the bad memories out of her skull. But there he was, strolling casually down the street, arm-in-arm with a new lady – some pretty young thing, gazing lovingly into Seamas's eyes. She was in for a rude awakening, thought Susan bitterly to herself. Seamas looked across the street at the dress-making store, and Susan jerked her head back away from the window, her heart pounding with sudden anxiety. She really hoped Seamas hadn't seen her. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that some small part of her still loved him, as awful a person as he was.

  Just then, the doorbell jangled as someone walked into the store. Susan let out a quiet sigh of relief; dealing with a customer would at least provide a momentary distraction from this stew of horrible feelings that was percolating in her gut.

  She hurried down the narrow, dimly-lit spiral stairway to get down to the ground level of the house, where the store was. And when she saw the man waiting at the counter, she couldn't help but pause and let out a quiet gasp.

  He wasn't one of the city folk from Edinburgh; that much was obvious. He was attired in a white poet shirt, and a bold red and green pattern tartan kilt. He wore a broadsword on his hip, and two pistols were tucked into his belt, and he wore a leather satchel over his shoulder. He was tall, but not excessively so, and broad-shouldered and strongly-built, but by no means muscle-bound like a blacksmith or wood-chopper. No; he had just the right balance of leanness and muscle, which was just how Susan liked her men.

  Most striking about his appearance though was his face. His jaw was angular and his chin sharp; both were meticulously shaven, although thick sideburns adorned the sides of his face, nestled on either side of strongly-defined cheekbones. A tall, straight nose stood proudly above a small yet sensual mouth, and piercing blue eyes looked out from beneath finely-shaped, hawk-like eyebrows. His long black hair was tied behind his head in a pony-tail.

  “Good afternoon sir,” Susan said, trying to retain her composure as she began to feel a flush of rather pleasurable heat ripple over her skin. “How can I help you?”

  He looked up at her, and as their eyes met it seemed that his pupils dilated, and she could see that he had gasped in a short, swift breath of air at the sight of her green eyes, which matched his in intensity. Still, if he was feeling some sort of attraction – which she strongly suspected he was – he made an effort to conceal it.

  “My lady,” he said in a smooth, deep voice. “I hope that you can indeed help me.”

  His eyes, she noticed, were filled with a deep and quiet sadness, and this seemed to intensify as he walked up to her. He opened his satchel and took out a beautiful dress, and placed it gently on the counter.

  “That's a finely-made dress,” exclaimed Susan as she picked it up with her long, slim fingers and examined it. “Whose is it?”

  The man looked down and bit his lip; it was obvious that he was repressing some deeply painful memories.

  “It... it was my fiancée’s,” he managed to utter. “She passed away from a fever six months ago. Two weeks before our wedding.”

  Susan felt a pang of sadness bite into her heart.

  “I'm so sorry to hear that,” she said.

  The man nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground.

  “Thank you for your sympathy, my lady.”

  “You can call me 'Susan',” she said. “And may I have the pleasure of your name?”

  “Robert,” he replied. “Robert MacDonald.”

  “Once again, I'd like to say that I really am sorry about your fiancée. May God rest her soul. But how would you like me to help you with this dress? Does it need adjusting for a new lady in your life?”

  He shook his head.

  “There is no new woman in my life.”

  Susan's heart beat a little faster at this revelation.

  “I'm, uh, I'm sorry to hear that.”

  “The truth is, I've fallen on hard times. I borrowed some money from a powerful nobleman, and I was going to use that money to expand my business-”

  “What is your business, if you don't mind me asking?”

  “I'm a horse breeder. I own – well, owned – a stud farm in the Highlands. But last winter, an extremely harsh winter indeed, a number of our best horses died from the cold. So, I had to borrow money to buy more horses so that I could revive the business. However, the night after I borrowed the money, someone broke into my house and stole all of it. I was left with nothing – no money, no horses, and now my lands will be forfeit to the nobleman, as I cannot repay the debt.”

  It was a sad and tragic tale indeed, and Susan couldn't help but sigh and shake her head sadly.

  “I'm now trying to sell everything of value that I own. After I have enough money, I will go to the ships and buy passage to the New World. Perhaps a fresh start there, in America, will help me get over the
mess that my life has become here.”

  “I'm so sorry to hear that,” commented Susan. She was sorry in more ways than one; she felt a sudden and stinging sense of disappointment that this man was to leave Scotland forever – especially since the more they spoke, the more she could feel a bond growing between them.

  “Will you buy this dress from me?” asked Robert, looking up at her now and locking his beautiful, sadness-filled eyes into hers.

  “I'd love to, but like you, our business has fallen on hard times. I... Well, let's just say an evil man duped my father and I out of a lot of money last year.”

  Robert nodded sadly. He picked up the dress, folded it up with gentle care and put it back in his satchel.

  “I thank you for your help nonetheless,” he said, turning on his heels to leave the store.

  Susan felt a quick burst of panic.

  “Wait!” she said. She couldn't just let him walk out of her life like this, not when she had felt such a potent connection with him. “My father isn't here, he's gone on a journey to source cheaper materials from England, but he'll be back in five days. If you return then, we might be able to help you. I can try to convince him to buy your dress.”

  Robert's eyes sparkled with hope.

  “Do you think he would?”

  “Yes... I do,” she lied, knowing that her father would not be interested at all. Still, she had to do something to keep this man from just walking out of her life.

  And then, from out of nowhere, she had a sudden impulse of curiosity.

  “Tell me one more thing, Robert,” she said, her eyes burning with a keen and sudden inquisitiveness, “which nobleman lent you the money to buy more horses?”

  Robert looked surprised at the question, but he answered nonetheless.

  “Why, that was Lord MacNally,” he answered.

  Susan gasped with surprise, and a number of gears and cogs started whirring in her mind.

  “We need to talk,” she blurted out. “I may be able to help you in more ways than just buying that dress from you.”

  “How so?”

  “Can you come here tomorrow night? I'll close up the shop at six o'clock. We can talk in private then.”

  Robert nodded.

  “Alright. I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow evening then,” he said with a smile as he turned and walked out.

  Susan's heart pounded as she thought about the possibilities of what had happened here; Lord MacNally, she knew was a conniving, greedy liar who was always desperate to expand the area of his territory. And Lord MacNally's best friend was... Seamas McSwiggan.

  CHAPTER 2

  Robert trudged wearily back to the inn where he was staying, keeping his eyes on the cobbled streets as he walked. In his pockets a few coins jingled; proceeds from what he had sold today. However, despite now having sold almost everything he owned – aside from his former fiancée’s dress, which he was hanging onto in the hope that Susan could help him, as she had said she would, he still had almost nothing to his name. He shook his head and sighed as the same thoughts ran through his head again and again. If he had just done one thing differently, just one thing... he wouldn't be here, selling everything and scrounging money like some sort of hobo or vagrant.

  God, if I had just kept that sack of gold and slept on it, the robber wouldn't have been able to take it from me – he'd have had to wake me up, and fight me for that money. And by God I would have showed that scoundrel a thing or two. But... But I didn't. I left the sack of gold on my kitchen table. After all, nobody had ever stolen anything from me before, and I locked the door just in case. But the windows! God, why didn't I close the upstairs windows! Well... Because I didn't think anyone would have been able to climb that high. But if I had locked those upstairs windows, I'd still have that gold, and my stud farm would have been making a lot of money now. I'd be a wealthy man instead of a destitute vagrant, having to hand over the land that's been in my family for five generations, and the house that my great grandfather built with his own hands, to that dastardly Lord MacNally.

  Still, there's a silver lining to every cloud – even one as dark as this. That girl at the dressmaker’s shop, Susan... I couldn't take my eyes off her earlier! Something about her just cut to my very core. It was as if she could see into the center of my being, and I into hers. I'm sure she was looking at me the same way I was looking at her. I could feel it! As sure as the wolf can sense the heart beating in the body of his prey in the darkness of the forest at night, I could feel her heart beating to the same rhythm as mine.

  But... What could I even do about it? I'm as poor as a pauper now, landless, and I owe a debt I have no hope of repaying. I've lost everything. What sort of a life would she have with a man like me? No decent sort of a life at all. It would be cruel and selfish to pursue her, even if she does feel the same way about me. There'd be no future for her with me – evidently I'm cursed, and to bring her into it would be to visit the same curse upon her.

  Robert looked up and saw that he had reached the inn. He paused to look up and down the street, and then stepped inside. The ground floor was a tavern, and as darkness began to fall, a number of people started filtering in off the streets. A few were already inside, lined up at the bar and ordering drinks.

  Robert couldn't deny that he felt somewhat out of place here; all these Edinburgh men spoke quickly and moved about with unshakeable purpose in their step; the hustle and bustle of city life was something he felt that he could never get used to. He definitely preferred the quiet beauty and solitude of the stunning Scottish countryside, with its rolling green hills, jagged mountains and tumbling, ice-cold brooks.

  He would not have much chance to enjoy that any more though; he would make one more trip back to his family's land, gather the last of his things, and then... and then, he thought with a smack of bitterness lashing its bile across the back of his tongue – he would sign the deeds that would hand the land over to Lord MacNally, and he would leave forever the land his ancestors had owned and worked on for generations.

  He could hardly stomach this thought. He needed a drink, so he sidled up to the bar and pulled up a stool. The barman shuffled over to him after he had finished serving another customer at the other end of the bar, and when he spoke to Robert he wore a warm grin on his chubby, ruddy face.

  “Ah, the highlander who's staying in room twelve,” he said. “Good people, you highlanders are. Far nicer than these here city folk! I grew up in the highlands, you know.”

  Robert, however, was not in the mood for idle conversation.

  “That's nice,” he said, rather coldly. “Listen, can I have a double whiskey please?”

  The bartender frowned, seeming disappointed that his attempt to initiate conversation had been so summarily rejected.

  “Alright then sir, double whiskey coming up. Anything else?”

  “No, that'll be all, thanks.”

  As the bartender went to prepare the drink, Robert turned and looked over his shoulder at the crowd of patrons spilling into the bar from outside. One man suddenly caught his eye, although he couldn't say why. Perhaps he had seen this fellow somewhere before? He squinted and stared more closely at the man. He was a tall and very handsome chap, and seemed to be possessed of quite a charming demeanor, He was dressed in all the over-the-top finery of an urban dandy, and hanging on his arm was a young and strikingly beautiful young lady, although the manner of her speech and mannerisms hinted that she, perhaps, was not too bright.

  “Seamas McSwiggan,” she said, staring lovingly into the handsome man's eyes, “could you buy me a glass of wine, dear? Please my love, I'm so thirsty and its been such a long day of walking around and shopping!”

  “Anything for you, sweet angel,” replied the handsome man, speaking with a honeyed tongue. “Go to that table over there and wait for me.”

  Robert kept staring at the man, but was awoken from his trance by a tap on his forearm. He turned around, startled, and saw the bartender standing in front of him o
n the other side of the bar.

  “Your whiskey, highlander,” he said.

  “Excuse me sir,” said Robert as he handed the bartender a few coins, “but who is that man over there?”

  The bartender looked at the man Robert was pointing to, and shook his head.

  “Oh, that there's Seamas McSwiggan. He's a blue-blood, that one. But don't let his good looks fool you; he's a right scoundrel, I reckon. Wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. Comes in here with a new girl every week, he does. And I know his father's rich, but god knows where he gets the money to buy these ridiculous outfits he's always wearing. He's got a new one of those every week too! I've never seen him do even an ounce of good old honest labor, so like I said, I'm not sure where he's getting the gold to throw around on women, wine and clothing, but it's coming from somewhere. Somewhere not too kosher, if you get my drift,” he said, touching the tip of his nose.

  “I see,” said Robert slowly, still staring at Seamas. “I'll make sure I avoid him then. Thank you for your advice, sir.”

  “Just looking out for a fellow highlander,” replied the bartender with a friendly wink as he shuffled off to serve more customers.

  Robert kept on staring at Seamas, watching him coldly as the man strutted about with cocky pride, impressing almost everyone at the bar with his quick wit, hilarious observations and general attitude. Despite the man's evident popularity amongst the patrons of the bar, Robert felt that he could sense something sinister about the man. And try as he may, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen him somewhere before. But where?

  He finished his whiskey and then headed up to his room, his mind filled with far more questions than answers.

  CHAPTER 3

  Susan felt a flutter of nerves as she heard the knock on the door. Outside, the sky was a deep blue, streaked with the fire of a late summer sunset. She had closed the store fifteen minutes earlier, and since then had anxiously been awaiting Robert's arrival. She swallowed, brushed her hair from her eyes with her fingers, and drew in a deep breath as she hurried over to open the door, trying to keep her heart steady all the while.