Highland Charm: First Fantasies

by April Holthaus

  Highland Charm

  First Fantasies

  Four full length romance novels of Scottish myths, fantasy and legends

  Table of Contents:

  (Click title hyperlink to go directly to story)

  Child of Awe by Kathryn Lynn Davis

  Legend of the Fae by April Holthaus

  Highland Burn by Victoria Zak

  Just Beyond the Garden Gate by Dawn Marie Hamilton

  Child of Awe by Kathryn Lynn Davis

  About the Author

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Other books by the Author

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Kathryn Lynn Davis has published eight historical novels, the first of which, THE DAKOTAS: AT THE WIND'S EDGE, received nationwide attention when it was banned in Medora, North Dakota, the town where it is set. Her New York Times bestseller, TOO DEEP FOR TEARS (the first in the Too Deep for Tears Trilogy), rose to #5 in its seven weeks on the NYTimes list! Kathryn has received Romantic Times awards for best Scottish Historical Fiction (CHILD OF AWE), Career Achievement Award (ALL WE HOLD DEAR, TOO DEEP FOR TEARS, SING TO ME OF DREAMS), & Best Historical Novel (SOMEWHERE LIES THE MOON). All four of those books have now been released as e-books. Her novella A TEAR FOR MEMORY, was released in the collection #1 Amazon bestseller HIGHLAND WINDS: SCROLLS OF CRIDHE in 2014, and individually in May, 2015. Her full-length novel SING TO ME OF DREAMS will be released as an e-book in the FALL, 2015.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product either of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this eBook via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

  Copyright © 1987, 1990, 2013 by Kathryn Davis. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  Cover by Kim Killion www.thekilliongroup.com

  eBook design by eBook Prep www.ebookprep.com

  Cover photograph by Michael J. Elderman www.mjeldermanphoto.com.

  PROLOGUE

  Northern Scottish Highlands 1497

  The mist swirled and eddied, obscuring the stars and shrouding the wan light of the moon on the night when the second Earl of Argyll heard Alex Urquart had been murdered. The Earl did not care that the man was dead, but the fools who had killed him—that was a different matter.

  Argyll had been on his way home from court after many months, craving the warmth of his hearth and his wife's soft body, but when the news was brought, he smiled grimly and turned at once toward Kilravok. He realized, as his horse's powerful muscles moved beneath him, carrying him surely through the treacherous Highland night, that he had been awaiting just such a moment, though he had not known it until now. Ever since the King had made his startling announcement, the Earl had been waiting for a chance, a turn of fate that would put the advantage squarely in his hands. Now the moment had come, and he intended to make the most of it.

  His heart raced with exhilaration, and his pulse quickened at the thought of the battle awaiting him. No sword would be raised, no arrow would fly; his weapon would be words and he had no doubt about the outcome.

  He burst into the tiny, ill-kempt keep of Kilravok with the Campbell men-at-arms behind him, clattering into the courtyard despite the feeble protests of the guards. He did not wait for word to spread that he had come, but swung his rich fur cape, heavy with mist, away from his shoulders and pounded with both fists on the barred double doors.

  They swung open too quickly, and he exchanged a disgusted look with his men, but did not pause as he stormed over the worn and battered stone threshold.

  "What is't ye want? Who are ye?" a woman demanded. When her gaze fell on the Earl's brooch, symbol of Clan Campbell, the most powerful family in Scotland, she closed her mouth and clutched the child in her arms more closely. Behind her, four other women clustered, shivering and pale.

  "Do the Roses of Kilravok leave the women to guard their doors, then?" Argyll demanded impatiently.

  The woman straightened then met his gaze without flinching. "There's been a disturbance. My father is occupied. Our doors are not usually open to any savages who choose to come crashing through them at midnight."

  The Earl contemplated the group of defenseless women. The one who had greeted him spoke steadily, angrily. Neither she nor her sisters had a weapon among them and the Campbells were heavily armed for travel. Yet he knew she would defy him, block his path if necessary, with nothing but her two hands, and those obviously cradling a baby. In spite of himself, he smiled. "Ye would dare stand against me? Do ye know I am the Earl of Argyll?"

  "I'm no' blind, nor am I daft," she replied. "But aye, I would stand against ye till I know if ye come as friend or foe."

  "I'm Archibald Campbell," he murmured unexpectedly, using his given name for the first time. "And ye?"

  "I’m Isabel Rose—" she hesitated, "Calder."

  The Earl regarded her intently. "Ah," he said. "The widow of the Thane of Cawdor." He paused. "Why are ye back in yer father's house and no' with yer husband's family?"

  "Surely ye've heard, as all Scotland has, that the Calders didn't want me after my husband died," Isabel replied tonelessly. "What ye may not have heard is that I did not want them. So I came home."

  Argyll was surprised by her honesty—surprised and pleased. He could not disguise his interest as he approached. She did not step back, but held her ground. "And this," he said, nodding toward the fur-wrapped bundle in her arms, "must be the Thane's child and heiress."

  "'Tis my daughter," Isabel Calder said fiercely.

  The Earl did not miss the slight emphasis on the word my. He tipped the fur away from the baby's face, admiring her downy white skin, thick, tousled red curls and unblinking green eyes. His face softened as he thought of his own wife and daughter, who shared the name Elizabeth—the companions of his solitude, the comfort of his days and nights away from court.
"What is her name?" he asked gently, without bothering to hide the tenderness in his eyes.

  Startled by the sudden change, Isabel replied without thinking. "Her name is Muriel, but we call her Muriella."

  "A lovely name," he said, "sweeter and bonnier."

  Isabel was touched by this unexpected gentleness in a man like the Earl of Argyll, whose reputation for ruthlessness was known all over the Highlands.

  "What the devil’s going on? How dare ye enter my keep unasked at such an hour?"

  Hugh Rose's harsh voice broke the spell and Isabel stepped back while Argyll's expression hardened. He turned toward the Laird of Clan Rose, noticing with disgust his sweat-stained saffron shirt and baggy trews. He wore no boots and his hand hovered above the hilt of his sword.

  The Earl regarded his reluctant host with an icy stare. "Because I have business with ye, and because I am the Earl of Argyll. Where can we talk?"

  Hugh Rose drew himself up taller and fingered the sword at his side. "I've no wish to speak to ye, even if ye were the King himself." He noticed Isabel and her sisters nearby and waved them away. "Leave us!"

  Argyll raised his hand in protest, partly to annoy Rose and partly because he knew the wisdom of having the women present. "Let them stay. This concerns yer daughter Isabel."

  Hugh's face turned red with anger as he turned on his heel and headed for the library. "'Tis my house ye're in now, Argyll. Ye can no' be telling me how to run it. Go!" he called to the women.

  "Stay," the Earl repeated, sweeping through the barren hall and into the austere library. He noticed a motion out of the corner of his eye, but dismissed it. His attention was half on Rose and half on the sound of swishing skirts. The women had chosen to ignore the Laird's command and follow Argyll's. He suppressed a smile.

  Isabel Calder's heart pounded dully as she followed the men. She began to fear she knew why Archibald Campbell had come. No force on earth could have kept her from that room. Her sisters and sisters-in-law were close behind.

  Quietly, Isabel closed the door and watched the two men face each other across the room.

  Rose glared at his daughter, growled an unintelligible curse and peered warily at the Earl. "By what right do ye invade a man's home in the middle of the night and order his family about like servants?" he demanded querulously.

  Argyll remained unruffled. "By right of the King's writ. I've come on behalf of yer grandchild—the Thane of Cawdor's daughter. King Jamie has named me her guardian."

  Hugh Rose stared, eyes bulging. "'Tis a lie! We're her family."

  The women gasped in chorus and the Earl glanced at Isabel. She stood in front, the baby in her arms. Her sisters looked stricken, pale and flushed by turns at his disturbing revelation. Isabel alone stood rigid, unchanged. The only sign of her distress was the slight tightening of her arms around the child. He nodded his approval and turned back to her father.

  "Ye're protecting her well, I see, with guards half-asleep at the gate and yer daughters waiting at the door to let me in." When Rose started to interrupt, the Earl silenced him with a wave of his hand. "But 'tis no' the only reason the King made her my ward." He lowered his voice. "The Calders are her family as well, ye see, and 'tis known they wish her ill. The King feels there's too much conflict about this little bairn. She's no' yet a year old, and already she has many enemies."

  Hugh Rose let out his breath in a rush. "And ye one more."

  Again, the Earl let the insult go by. "Ye would be wise to learn to recognize yer friends, Rose. Ye'd be a far happier man."

  Hugh snorted. "Ye don't give a damn about my happiness."

  Argyll shrugged. "As far as that goes, ye can believe what ye like. But I do give a damn about the child. And I've no intention of letting ye endanger her. The Calders are becoming a bunch of outlaws determined to have their way. Ye can't hold them off if they set their full fury upon ye. But the Campbells can. For our strength, the King has given me her care."

  "For yer arrogance, I'll give ye naught. I could kill ye where ye stand or hold ye for ransom, saying ye attacked Kilravok without provocation. The King would pay a great deal to get ye back."

  "Ye could, though 'twould be foolish beyond reason," the Earl said casually. "But ye won't."

  "And why not?" Hugh was sweating and did not like the feeling. He did not like Argyll's certainty, nor the power he knew the other man wielded. Most of all, he did not like being backed into a corner like a helpless rat.

  "Because," Argyll said softly, leaning negligently on a plain wooden chair, "the rest of my men await me on the road to Edinburgh. They have in their custody yer oldest son Hugh and his brother David. Their tunics and daggers are stained with earth and the blood of Alex Urquart. They spoiled the lands of Cromarty tonight and killed the man in front of all the servants. They acted heedlessly, did no' even try to hide who they were, but rode out of the keep as they had ridden in, plaids flying proudly. The King does not like such lawlessness and he has no patience for fools."

  Hugh Rose went pale with rage and fear—at his sons, who had grown up wild and greedy and careless. Now they had endangered the entire clan. A moment before he had felt like a cornered rat, but he was less than that to Argyll: a gnat, defenseless and easily squashed beneath the Earl's thumb.

  Suddenly, a whirlwind of flailing arms and legs erupted from behind a screen in the corner. A small flame-haired boy ran for the Earl, striking his knees, biting, trying to knock him down. "I want my papa. Where've ye put my papa?" he shouted.

  With difficulty, Argyll disentangled himself. Hugh Rose smiled; he couldn't help it. His four-year-old grandson had nearly toppled the mighty Earl to the floor. Argyll held him at arm's length, but the boy still struggled, biting the air, snarling and swinging his fists uselessly.

  "Now ye've met Hugh Rose the youngest, my first son's child," the Laird announced. When he saw the dangerous glint in Argyll's eye, he snapped, "Bridget! Take the brat and go."

  "Hugh, lad, come away," Bridget said, moving from among her sisters.

  "But he took my papa! He'll hurt him. I know it. I want my papa!" the child shrieked.

  Bridget backed from the room, the child snarling all the way. Argyll felt eyes full of hatred burning into his back long after the door had closed. It was something to mark for the future, he thought. Something to mark well.

  Hugh dismissed his grandson without a thought. "What are ye going to do?" he demanded.

  "About yer sons, ye mean?" Argyll spoke calmly, hiding his unease. "I am, as ye know, Justice General of Scotland. I didn't like Alex Urquart. I doubt many will mourn his loss. Especially if the servants are made to forget what they saw. Ye know if anyone has the power to make them do it, I do."

  Hugh waited. "And? What of my sons?"

  "I'll keep the daggers and tunics, of course, to insure they don't forget how much they owe us. But if ye deal with me fairly, 'twill cost them no more than a small fine."

  "What do ye mean by deal fairly?" Hugh asked suspiciously.

  "Accept my guardianship of Muriella."

  Even then Isabel made no sound. Her face had no color, and the lines between her nose and mouth were deeper, more pronounced. She was rigid, waiting, but her eyes showed no fear or weakness.

  Hugh hesitated, though he knew he was trapped. "Ye already have land and wealth aplenty. To give ye Muriella would only give ye more. It makes my stomach turn to think of it."

  Argyll was becoming irritated. "Yer sons brought ye to this moment, not I. Ye'd best blame them. I'm offering ye a fair exchange. Their freedom for the girl. Ye have to choose—Muriella Calder, and the Thanedom of Cawdor someday in the future, or yer sons now—yer clan, yer own survival. Choose."

  Argyll could feel Isabel's breath withheld, feel its absence in the chilly air. But he did not turn. "Choose."

  "Take the bairn," Rose snarled. "Take her!" He swung away, beating his clenched fist into his hand.

  "No," the Earl murmured. He went to look once more into the child's innocent face. "Fo
r now, she'll stay at Kilravok. A girl-child should be with her mother, with the women of her own family." He wondered, fleetingly, if he were making a mistake, to put so much wealth into such unsteady hands. But Isabel's gaze was unwavering and he thought again of his own wife and daughter. He believed in this woman's strength. His gaze locked with hers, and there passed between them a promise—unspoken, but binding and real just the same. He reached out to touch the girl's soft cheek, smiled at her gurgle of pleasure.

  Isabel sighed with relief and her grip on Muriella lessened.

  "I don't want to take her from her mother till 'tis necessary. As long as ye can protect her, I'll leave her here, where she can grow and learn as she should. I need ye as an ally, Hugh Rose, not an enemy. I will give ye a bond of friendship. When ye have trouble, send word and the Campbells will come to protect ye."

  "To protect her, ye mean," Rose snarled.

  The Earl was looking at Isabel, though he spoke to Hugh. "All of ye. 'Tis what such a bond means, man." He smiled slightly, then whirled toward Rose, his face devoid of expression. "I'll have yer vow that ye'll send word at the first hint of trouble, that ye'll use our strength to see she is safe, that ye'll keep in yer head always the Campbell motto: 'Be Mindful.'"

  He took his sword and held it, tilted out, toward Hugh Rose. The crusted ruby in silver winked in the pale firelight. "Swear and yer sons will be free, yer family safe. Swear!"

  Hugh's lip curled and he felt ill as he reached toward the offered sword. Friendship indeed. When the Earl offered friendship it was best to turn and flee. But he had no choice. Damn his sons to hell. Briefly, he clasped the jeweled hilt of Argyll's sword. "I swear." He thought he would choke on the words, but they rang loud and clear.

  "Remember," Argyll said, "ye're sworn to be ally to the Campbells, but more than that, ye're sworn to keep Muriella Calder safe." He turned to Isabel one last time. "And now so are ye."