This book is part of The Munro Clan Highlander Romances.
Volume 1: Outlaw Scot and the Stolen Bride (visit on Amazon.com)
Volume 2: The Reluctant Highland Groom (visit on Amazon.com)
Volume 3: The Highland Hero (visit on Amazon.com)
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OUTLAW SCOT AND THE STOLEN BRIDE
Ramsey Munro and his brothers, Logan and Alec, spurred their horses faster down the road, despite the strong feeling in his gut that he should turn them around and return home.
In the distance behind him, the reassuring sound of the small cadre of warriors he brought with them reminded him they were never safe—not even on English soil. Especially not on English soil.
Their war against their neighbors the Gunns had reached a fevered pitch and even a sennight away from his lands could prove disastrous. But the Earl de Montfort had summoned him—asking his help in staving off enemies who would see his demise and harm Sabrina.
His Sabrina.
Ramsey scoffed at the thought as soon as it was out. She could never be his, no matter how much his heart ached over her or how many nights he lost sleep dreaming about the beautiful girl he’d left behind five years ago. She was a woman now. Had she married? The jealousy tore at his gut instantly and he imagined sliding his dagger into the belly of any man who dared touch Sabrina.
Once, he’d dreamed she might be his—that he might take her to to be his wife, bring her to Scotland with him.
But Ramsey had no right. It had been an impossible dream.
Her uncle, Earl Ernald de Montfort, had taken Ramsey and his brothers in when they were younger, boys on the run from the ruthless Gunn laird who’d slaughtered their father and his brothers. Ernald had saved them from a similar fate, but as the boys had grown under his care, so to had the threat of the Gunns.
Ramsey, Logan, and Alec were grown men now, and intent upon exacting revenge from the clan who had taken so much from them. But first, he owed a debt to de Montfort and would see it paid. Logan and Alec had come along to buy weapons from the blacksmiths in Treadwell, the last English town before the lowlands of Scotland began.
After days of hard riding, the brothers finally galloped into the bustling hamlet.
“Find a place to sleep tonight,” Ramsey said to Logan. “I have to go see de Montfort and will find you tomorrow. Don’t forget the two-handed claymore I need.”
Logan smirked.
“Hopefully you won’t come back tomorrow with extra baggage,” Logan said. Alec couldn’t contain his smile.
“Be quiet,” Ramsey snapped. “She means nothing to me. We were children—and she’s probably old and haggard now, anyway.”
As if Sabrina could ever be old and haggard.
His brothers were smart enough not to say anything, but Ramsey heard the snickering behind him when he turned his back.
They would have a fine time at his expense. Alec and Logan might present solemn fronts to the world, but when left to their own devices, they were hellraisers.
Ah, well. He’d known they would tease him a bit. He was surprised they’d managed to hold off as long as they did.
Pushing hard through the forests he knew so well, the very forests the earl’s men had found Ramsey and his brothers wandering around half-starved in, he arrived at Newgate before the sun dipped low in the afternoon sky. He heard the notes from the lute drifting outside as minstrels played and wondered if it was too late to turn around now. One look at the woman Sabrina had become and he might not be able to stop himself from dragging her all the way back to Scotland—straight into the middle of bloodshed, wars, and treachery.
Ramsey’s shoulders sank as his mind reiterated over and over again the countless reasons that the only woman for him could never truly be his. She was English nobility, expected to make a profitable match for her family and continue her husband’s aristocratic lineage. He was a Scottish laird with three hundred people to protect and mouths to feed.
He recalled, with shame, the last words she’d spoken to him those years ago, when he’d let the earl know he was leaving.
Sabrina had not taken it well. She must have been listening from some darkened corner of the room—she was irritatingly good at that—and she followed him out to the stables, calling after him. “Ramsey, don’t do this.”
“I’ve no choice, Sabrina.”
“You have every choice! Don’t leave! Not like this!” She caught his arm and dug her heels into the ground, dragging him to a stop.
Ramsey did his best not to look at her. To look at her was to give in, and to give in would be to perish.
“Ye know what happened between us must never happen again.”
“Why not?”
“Because it cannot!” He spun around, grasping her by the shoulders and steeling himself to look into her eyes—her lovely, vibrant green eyes that brought him to his knees each time she focused on him. Damnall, the woman had grown into a dangerous temptation. What’s more, she didn’t entirely seem to realize it. “You must follow your own duties, lass, just as I have mine. I must return to my land, see to my people.” And stay away from you.
He might not have said the last bit aloud, but she understood it well enough. Her eyes grew misty, but she did not cry. “So you’ll just be a coward and flee, then.”
“It’s not cowardice, it’s the correct course of action.”
“Ah, now you sound like my uncle.”
“He’s a wise man in many respects.”
“Take me with you, Ramsey.”
His heart clenched. “Never. I will not lay eyes upon ye again, Sabrina. Not in this life.”
It was a cruel thing to say, and he regretted the words as they flew from his mouth.
Still, it seemed to have the desired effect, for Sabrina’s face closed off. Any hint of feeling drained from her features, and she drew herself up.
Now I’ve done it, he’d thought.
It was very quiet for a moment. Too quiet. For once, his brothers had held their tongues, keeping to themselves some distance away.
I could have used your help in this one, lads, he thought, but there was nothing for it.
“I hate you, Ramsey Munro,” Sabrina spat in the dirt by the stables, her cheeks reddened with rage.
Ramsey had to leave. It was time. He was a laird and his people needed the Munro brothers to return and lead them.
But there was more. Ramsey had nearly ruined Sabrina’s chances at a good marriage during the foolish, reckless night when he’d given in to his feelings for her.
He shook his head at the memory and tried to ignore the heat that churned in his stomach. Some foolish part of him longed to see her again, longed to take her in his arms and tell her she was still the one he dreamed about, still the one he longed to see above all else.
Marry her, the little voice whispered. Marry her and bring her home. She’d make a worthy Lady Munro.
Aye, that she would, but she deserved far more than a life of hardship and bloodshed.
He’d likely need to speak to her, t
hough. With any luck, he could ease her memory of the day he left, as well as his own. They could never be lovers, but if he could part with her on good terms...
With a renewed sense of duty, Ramsey rode into the courtyard at Newgate, determined to do right by the one he loved most.
* * *
The entire manor was prepared for the Lammas feast.
Uncle Ernald had spared no expense in organizing the summer harvest celebration, cleaning the great hall, ordering new rushes, adorning the heavy wooden tables with garlands and evergreens.
Sabrina had taken extra care that day when choosing her gown and letting the maids braid and adorn her hair with daisies, hoping the rumors of Ramsey’s return would prove true. She’d never forgotten the wild-eyed boys who’d wandered through their woods, beaten and bloody from the carnage they’d fled.
She still retained fond enough memories of Alec and Logan, who had been the younger of the three. Alec was pleasant, if a bit hard-headed, and Logan...well, Logan was quiet until his temper gave way, and rue to the one who triggered his anger.
It was Ramsey she wanted to see, though. Ramsey, with his dark hair and eyes, his knowing smile, and his wild streak.
Would he still be wild? Men changed as they grew older, and Ramsey had spent any number of years attempting to set right his family’s ailing fortunes. The harder living would not have killed him, but it might well have changed him.
Is he still the boy I remember?
The day had moved too slowly and more than once, the servants had chided her to sit still, lest she put wrinkles in her gown before the festivities began.
It had done no good, and Sabrina resorted to a walk on the castle’s parapet while waiting for the guests to arrive, pacing back and forth across the planks, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man Ramsey had become in his absence. People came from all directions as the sun sank lower in the sky. Lines of people on horseback, on foot, and in wagons all filed into her uncle’s home for the last celebration until the dark of winter.
Sabrina watched disinterestedly as face after face filed past beneath her, hoping and praying that the whispers of Ramsey’s arrival were not meritless.
She recognized him immediately as his horse galloped down the dirt path that led from the thick forest beyond the castle’s borders—he was a man now, with wide shoulders and glossy black hair that fell in his face and danced in the evening breeze. If Ramsey had seen her standing above on the parapet, he did not show it. He rode his horse straight across the bridge and into the courtyard, out of site.
Sabrina put her hand to her chest and felt the wild beating of her heart and the drumming in her ears that grew louder with each step. She fought the urge to jump down the entire flight of stairs to the courtyard at once, lest anyone catch a glimpse of her behaving like a madwoman. Gingerly, she moved down the stairs to stand next to her uncle. Ernald greeted Ramsey as he came down off his massive black stallion and clapped the younger man on the back.
“Too long, Ramsey, too long!” Ernald said, waving his arms in excitement.
“Much too long,” Ramsey said, grasping the man’s wrist. Sabrina could scarcely take her eyes off him; he had grown even larger than she remembered, and looked every inch the dark, powerful Highlander she knew he’d grow up to be.
Her throat had gone dry, and she could not do much more than stand there staring.
Fortunately, her uncle filled in the empty space where she would have spoken. “And where are your brothers this evening? Are they not coming, too?”
“My brothers are in Treadwell buying supplies, and won’t be joining me tonight—they’ll stay with the handful of clansmen who rode with us. Just as well. Alec gets loud when he drinks, and Logan has grown into a bit of a rogue.”
“Not unlike his older brother,” Ernald said in jest. “Blast, lad, I am glad to see you.”
“You look well, Earl de Montfort,” Ramsey had shaken Ernald’s hand. His gaze swept across Sabrina in the space of a second. “You’ve grown a bit, brat.”
With that, he turned and stalked into the main hall with Ernald, leaving Sabrina to stand motionless in the courtyard, deflated and speechless.
He scarcely noticed me...he walked on by...could he have forgotten me so entirely?
She had built an existence around believing Ramsey would one day return for her, knowing that they’d be together in the end. She wasn’t sure quite what she’d expected of their reunion, but it hadn’t been him walking right past her with nary a glance.
***
“Tell me, Ernald, what it is ye seek from me.” Still shaken from seeing the beauty Sabrina had become, Ramsey was eager to conclude his business and be off. Loitering with her so near would only lead to disaster.
Lord de Montfort poured them each a goblet of wine, and pressed Ramsey’s firmly into his hand. “The best vintage,” he said when Ramsey attempted to demure. “No, drink up. I insist.”
“Ernald?”
Ernald closed the doors to his study, a gesture Ramsey found most unsettling. Whatever it is, he doesn’t wish others to know. “Ramsey, I have fallen upon more difficult times than I would like to admit. My enemies are closing in on me from the south, and they need only wait for the right time to strike. I need your help.”
“I shall offer whatever I can, Ernald, but I fear the Gunns occupy most of the men I do have.”
Ernald nodded grimly. “The war rages on in the north, does it?”
“Aye, and it’s not like to slow for some time.” Ramsey leaned forward. “Have ye considered hiring mercenaries?”
His companion hesitated. “Ramsey, the nature of hiring—”
“Uncle?” The door cracked open, and Sabrina’s lovely blonde head poked around it. Ramsey had to restrain his own natural response to her; up close, he could see she had developed the fine, lush curves of womanhood, and her pale hair wisped gently around her face. “Uncle, Lord Archer has arrived and begs audience with you, along with rooms for his men.”
Ernald blanched visibly. “Of course he does. I will see to him promptly, of course. It’s never good to keep Archer waiting.” He bowed to Ramsey. “We will continue this in the evening, lad. Why don’t you and the lady catch up? Perhaps she can show you to your rooms.”
He hurried out of the study, leaving Ramsey and Sabrina alone together.
Ramsey tried not to look too interested in her. He swirled the contents of his goblet lazily, forgetting entirely about drinking it.
“You look well,” Sabrina said quietly.
“Thank ye,” he said. “Ye don’t look terribly bad, either.”
She wavered between a smile and a flush, a far cry from the angry face he’d seen when they parted ways. “I could show you your rooms...”
“That won’t be necessary. He will stash me away in the east wing, will he not?”
Sabrina wilted visibly. “Yes...but...”
“I don’t require your assistance in this matter,” he said, kicking himself over the harsh quality of his voice. Still, best to chase her off now and avoid future heartache—if it was possible. When Sabrina was around, all of Ramsey’s usual defenses seemed to crumble.
She nodded, her face swiftly settling into a the icy, dignified composure of a noblewoman. “Very well, then. I see you’re still angry at me. So be it. Do enjoy your time here, Ramsey.”
She turned around and marched herself from the room, skirts swishing behind her.
Ramsey swiftly drained the last of his wine, and made a silent promise to conclude his business at Newgate as soon as he could.
***
The night did not improve much for Sabrina.
She had decided he would not get out of talking to her quite so easily, and had made herself a promise to talk to him, at least—to clear some of the lingering anger from her heart, if nothing else. They had been friends for so long; he could at least speak civilly to her.
Unfortunately, Ramsey seemed to have other ideas.
He made it a point to remain
on opposite sides of the great hall from her, despite how she maneuvered through crowds toward him. Each time she’d finally arrive through throngs of revelers at the place he last stood, she’d look around and see him across the hall on the opposite wall. Her spirits sank further as the more she tried to corner him, the more her efforts failed.
Talk to me, you wretched man!
Most confusing, however, was the fact that each time she stole a glance in his direction, Ramsey was watching her with a dark, intense look on his face. Wherever Sabrina went, Ramsey’s eyes followed.
Eventually, tired of the rejection, Sabrina found her way to the sweet wine…Ramsey Munro be damned.
The Munro Clan Highlander Collection (The Munro Clan Highlander Romances) Page 1