Table of Contents
Family Tree
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
Chapter23
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Other Books By
About the Author
THE GRANTS AND RAMSAYS IN 1280S
GRANTS
LAIRD ALEXANDER GRANT and wife, MADDIE
John (Jake) and wife, Aline
James (Jamie) and wife, Gracie
Kyla and husband, Finlay
Connor
Elizabeth
Maeve (adopted)
BRENNA GRANT and husband, QUADE RAMSAY
Torrian (Quade’s son from his first marriage) and wife, Heather—daughter, Nellie (Heather’s daughter from a previous relationship) and son, Lachlan
Lily (Quade’s daughter from his first marriage) and husband, Kyle—twin daughters, Lise and Liliana
Bethia and husband, Donnan—son, Drystan
Gregor
Jennet
Geva (adopted)
Emma (adopted)
ROBBIE GRANT and wife, CARALYN
Ashlyn (Caralyn’s daughter from a previous relationship) and husband, Magnus—daughter, Ishbel
Gracie (Caralyn’s daughter from a previous relationship) and husband, Jamie
Rodric (Roddy) and wife, Rose
Padraig
BRODIE GRANT and wife, CELESTINA
Loki (adopted) and wife, Arabella—sons, Kenzie (adopted) and Lucas, daughter, Ami (adopted)
Braden and wife, Cairstine—son, Steenie (Cairstine’s son from previous relationship)
Catriona
Alison
JENNIE GRANT and husband, AEDAN CAMERON
Riley
Tara
Brin
RAMSAYS
QUADE RAMSAY and wife, BRENNA GRANT (see above)
LOGAN RAMSAY and wife, GWYNETH
Molly (adopted) and husband, Tormod
Maggie (adopted) and husband, Will
Sorcha and husband, Cailean
Gavin and wife, Merewen
Brigid
Simone (adopted)
Beatris (adopted)
MICHEIL RAMSAY and wife, DIANA
David and wife, Anna
Daniel and wife, Constance
Crisly (adopted)
Mariana (adopted)
AVELINA RAMSAY and DREW MENZIE
Elyse
Tad
Tomag
Maitland
Chapter One
Linet Baird pulled her mantle closer against the biting wind of the Scottish Highlands. Inverness was much colder than her home had been. She’d just come from an inn outside of the royal burgh, the place where she’d hoped to see her sister one last time. Merewen had not been there, so she’d had no choice but to leave her package with a note attached.
She’d likely never see her only sister, her beloved Winnie, ever again.
The thought filled her with despair, but she’d made her choice and intended to see it through. She was needed here, and for something other than serving men.
Living with her family at Clan Ramsay, she’d been at the mercy of her two brothers and her sire, who’d never once thanked her for cleaning their clothes and cooking their meals. They’d only ever asked for more.
And then there was the other purpose she had served for a certain man. She cringed and forced the horrible memory from her mind.
At least she’d escaped him.
She had almost reached the building she slept in with Sela, her boss of sorts, when a strange metallic sound reached her ears, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. The noise grew louder. There were distant yells, too. Pained cries. The area was nearly deserted, except for the two guards with her, so she climbed a small hill to get a better vantage point. The men followed her.
The three of them froze at the top of the hill, shocked by the sight in front of them. Not far from the shore of the River Ness, a battle took place between men guarding multiple crates and a group of Highlanders, some in their tunics and tartans, others dressed in all black. Arrows sluiced through the air, taking men out in seconds. While some fought on foot, others fought on horseback.
Having spent most of her life protected by the warriors and reputation of Clan Ramsay, she’d never witnessed anything so gruesome.
“What’s happening?” she whispered, though she knew better than to expect an answer. The guards never addressed her.
“Saints preserve us, but the Highland savages have gone daft.” The man to her right stared down at the unfolding chaos, the cacophony doing what nothing else could. He had finally spoken to her.
A frightened screech came from behind her, and when she whirled around to see who had made the grating sound, she was shocked to see Sela in the doorway of the inn. The beautiful woman was not in her usual flowing gown and regal mantle, but a wool gown with trews underneath, her long white-blonde hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Even in such plain clothing, she had an elegance that could not be taken from her—and it did not take her long to regain her usual composure. “Get your things, Leena,” she said, using her assumed name for Linet. “I have strict instructions that we’re to leave at once with three others. We will travel with ten guards. The rest will follow.” Sela was in charge of all the lasses, which afforded her rights and luxuries the others didn’t have, but Linet suspected she still wasn’t free. She had her orders, just like the rest of them did.
Linet’s heart raced as fear crawled up the back of her neck, but she did her best to quell the urge to cry and shriek and run, the thought of being impaled by a sword foremost in her mind. “Are you certain the warriors down there are after us? Some of those are Ramsay and Grant plaids. They’ll not hurt us.”
“Like hell,” muttered one of her guards, shoving her toward the building. “They’re all bloody savages. Now go. Some are coming this way.”
Her eyes darted back to the battle. The violence made her gasp, but before she could turn away, someone caught her eye. She shouldn’t have seen him at all—he was perched in a tree, nearly out of sight—except she was used to stealing glances at this particular man.
Gregor Ramsay.
Her heart squeezed at the thought of him being hurt, though he was in a tree firing arrows at men with a deadly aim. Gregor had given her the best gift of all—he’d taught her to read, which had expanded her world beyond the trap of her parents’ cottage. And because he was so kind and handsome, so smart and noble and funny, she’d dared to hope that perhaps their friendship could lead somewhere.
The heady dreams of a foolish girl. Her brothers, who’d noticed her interest in the chieftain’s son, had been quick to remind her that noble lads married noble lasses, not someone like Linet Baird who spent her days washing clothing in the burn and cooking stew.
And then there was that other reason why someone like Gregor would never marry her…
“Leena, come! Now!” Sela’s threat did not fall on deaf ears. While she wished to stay and make sure her fellow clansmen fared well, she didn’t dare cross the cold Norsewoman known to others as the Ice Queen.
Sela waited for her in the hall, her expression tight. “We leave now. We must get ahead of them.”
“Where is everyone? Where are all the other lasses?” Her job was to care for Sela’s lasses, was it not? How could she do that if most of them were gone? She’d treated at least twenty lasses since Sela had given her the job of tending to the others’ injuries. There could be many more.
“Some have left, some have been given different assignments. It does not matter, but we must leave now.” Sela grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the door.
Linet did as she was told, not asking any more questions because Sela did not like to be questioned. Her only alternative would be to stay behind, in which case she’d be forced to travel back with Clan Ramsay.
Never.
True, Sela could be harsh, but she was generally kind to Linet. Everyone knew that. For now, she would do as she was told. It suited her, since she would just as soon be far, far away from whatever was happening on shore. She only hoped Merewen was safe. Privately, she also hoped that the Ramsays and Grants came out ahead.
She greeted her horse once she’d tied her things to the saddle, then waited for assistance in mounting. When one of the guards came close enough to lift her, he whispered, “Many of the lasses have been sent away and not to a pretty place. Be grateful you’re not one of them, probably your healer skills have saved your skin. Ask no questions and go.”
“But where are we going?” she whispered, her gaze searching his.
“Edinburgh. I pray we make it out.”
At least they weren’t headed to Ramsay land.
She could never go back home.
***
Gregor Ramsay rolled over, cursing the bumps in the ground where he lay, attempting to sleep but failing miserably. How many times had he made this voyage between Clan Grant and Clan Ramsay? How many times had he slept in the wilderness of the Highlands? Usually, it took him seconds to fall asleep, but the sounds of the forest affected him differently of late, sending a chill up his backbone.
Reivers he could handle. It was the notorious men in the Channel of Dubh who had his guard up. After the heartlessness they’d witnessed in Inverness, he just couldn’t sleep well. Although they’d seen the Channel’s cruelty on several occasions, this time they’d unpacked the lasses out of the crates they’d been stowed in for the journey across the sea. His heart had quailed at the sight of those sleeping lasses, drugged and treated like cargo. Bought and sold. At least they’d given the bastards a good dance on their way out of Inverness. They’d killed many of them, though some had escaped.
This was why the Band of Cousins’ work was so important. They needed to stomp out what remained of the network.
But his thoughts kept snagging on Linet Baird. Lovely Linet. Although they’d come to Inverness in the hopes of finding her, she’d refused to come home with them, choosing instead to stay with Sela, the woman who’d supposedly run the burgh’s underground fighting rings and whorehouses. All of the coin had gone to Sela or her bosses, of course, not the lasses themselves.
Sela had fled during the battle, and Linet had disappeared with her. He suspected that she was not truly in control of the Channel activities in Inverness, but even if she was following orders, she likely had useful information. Perhaps she even knew who led the Channel as a whole.
Sela’s level of involvement didn’t matter. He didn’t like the thought of her having control of Linet. Although he didn’t understand what drove Linet, or why she’d refused to come home, he had vowed to find out.
He had vowed to protect her and he would not let up.
They’d spent quite a bit of time together when they were younger. He’d spent the better part of a summer teaching her to read. Whenever he thought of her, he thought of her sweet smile, her distracting lavender scent, and her quick mind. One of his favorite memories of the time they’d spent together was the way her tongue would work its way between her lips whenever she was concentrating, something that had invariably made him smile. Her response was always the same. “What is it?” she’d ask.
“Just you,” he’d say. If pushed for more of an answer, he’d say he was impressed with how hard she worked, which was true. He’d concealed the rest of the truth—that the sight of her wee tongue had made him wish to capture it in his mouth.
To say such a thing would have been bold, and at the time he’d been anything but.
Gregor had hoped things might change between them with time, but he’d hesitated to declare himself, and then his duties with the Band of Cousins had kept him away from home. Now she was gone. Missing. This wasn’t how he’d imagined they would be reunited.
Connor wanted to help him follow her, fortunately. They had agreed to make quick stops at both Grant Castle and Ramsay Castle on their way to Edinburgh. Once they reached their destination, they suspected they would find Sela and what remained of the Channel. Will and Maggie, the leaders of the Band of Cousins, had stayed in Inverness to search it more thoroughly, but they intended to join them as soon as possible. Merewen and Gavin traveled with them to Grant land. After the healers at Clan Grant treated Merewen’s wounds, something that could take a day or two, the new couple would travel to Ramsay land and spend a day or two there before rejoining the Band’s mission.
Connor and Gregor would not wait.
A brushing sound perked Gregor’s ears, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sat up, scanning the area for reivers or beasts. His cousins were asleep. Connor Grant lightly snored next to him while Gavin and his new wife, Merewen, lay not far away, snuggling in the cold.
His gut told him something was out there. But what? He grabbed his bow and his quiver, stepping past his cousins and moving farther away from the Ramsay guards stationed a short distance from their small group.
A faint whisper called out to him. “Gregor, is something out there?”
Connor’s voice. Before he could reply, a twig snapped not far from him.
Two seconds later, two men came straight at Gregor, swords lifted and aimed to kill.
Hellfire, but this was another one of those times where Gregor wished he’d worked harder at developing his sword skills. His sword lay useless on the ground beside the spot he’d left, a mistake a more proficient swordsman would never have made. He had two choices, his bow or his measly daggers.
Gregor bellowed a warning to the others—Connor, at least, was awake to hear it—and tossed his bow down, reaching for the dagger inside his boot. Nearly upon him, the bastards bore down, the moonlight bouncing off the blades the men carried.
Two large swords.
Aimed directly at him.
He threw himself on the ground, rolled away, and jumped back to give himself enough range to fire his dagger, which he did, catching one of his attackers in the soft part of his belly. But it wasn’t enough to stop him.
Gregor was a dead man. He couldn’t get away from them fast enough, and Connor was too far away to come to his assistance.
As he readied the second dagger, flashes of his dear mother and father appeared in his vision. His brother and his sisters. He threw the dagger, wounding the second man, but it only seemed to make him more angry. Both men kept coming—until Connor jumped in front of Gregor and cut down the reivers with a single swing of his sword.
They barely made a sound as they fell to the ground in a heap, dead.
“Hellfire, Gregor,” Connor said, panting. “You’ve got to carry your sword. I know you prefer your bow, but it’s useless up close. Those puny daggers aren’t going to stop anyone in the middle of a forest.” He wiped his sword clean on the clothing of the man on the ground closest to him.
Gavin bolted up from his spot, his sword ready for battle within seconds. A few other guards were fast behind him. Uncle Logan, also known as the Beast of the Highlands, had forced Gavin to work in the lis
ts, so he was skilled in the use of several weapons—swords, bow and arrow, daggers, and fists.
Gregor wiped the sweat off his upper lip, cursing. “Hell, Connor, I’m going to have to improve quickly if I’m to go after Linet. I don’t know that I could have cut them both down with my sword the way you did.”
“Aye, but you must have some skills. Your brother is a skilled swordsman. Didn’t Torrian make you practice?”
Gregor thought back to the times when he’d suffered through the lists, fighting his brother, his cousin, or Cailean MacAdam, now known as one of the best swordsmen in the Ramsay clan. He’d had some skills, but he was an exceptional archer and had always preferred the archery butts to the lists.
Gregor’s parents had been of the mind that he needn’t rely on a sword if he was good enough with his bow and his dagger, so they had never pushed him. Torrian, on the other hand, had insisted his life could depend on his sword skills someday. Since his brother was rarely so insistent about anything, he’d gone to the lists occasionally, but his heart had never been in it.
He should have listened.
Gregor did his best to calm his rapid breathing, his body still reminding him how close he’d come to death. “We were planning to stop at Ramsay land anyway. I’ll train with my sword for a couple of days before we continue on. I cannot leave our protection to you, Connor. My apologies.”
Connor tipped his head with a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not without valuable skills, Gregor. Without you, they’d have caught us all unaware and cut our throats before we even opened our eyes.”
Yawning, Gavin stretched his arms overhead and said, “I’d have heard them before then.”
Connor quirked his brow at his newly-wed cousin. “Aye, for certes considering you were asleep with your head buried in your wife’s bosom. I’m sure you would have heard them.”
Gavin chuckled, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “’Tis my favorite way to sleep. Someday you two will learn. Sweet-smelling and soft.”
“Aye, so were your mama’s,” Connor drawled.
Highland Devotion (The Band of Cousins Book 7) Page 1