“Is that a threat?” the young soldier demanded, his chest expanding as he drew his shoulders back and approached her with swift steps.
He didn’t in the least intimidate Bliss. She stood firm, her head up, her pride and courage evident. “It is the truth.”
“And I say with as much truth that the likes of you and your kind will be no more,” the soldier challenged, his comrades encouraging him with cheers.
“You can say or claim all you wish, but the truth is written and cannot be erased,” she said confidently.
“She’s a seer,” the older soldier said with a shiver. “Stay clear of her, or she will steal your soul.”
The young soldier scurried away then, tripping over his feet as he went, his pretentious bravado failing him.
“What do we do with her?” the other soldier asked, taking several cautious steps away.
“She might prove helpful to King Kenneth,” the young one suggested.
“Fool,” the older one spat. “The king has his own seer, and he keeps his distance from the Picts; being pagans, they cannot be trusted.”
Bliss felt a sudden catch in her stomach though she moved not a muscle. It intensified as the unknown man continued his approach. From how palpable his strength, he was no doubt a warrior. They were an easy lot to sense, their potency far-reaching. Though there was a force about this particular one that caused her to shudder. Passion tickled at her flesh, and a heady scent soon followed, wrapping around her like a lover’s strong embrace.
This was the man she was meant to meet, and why fate had her wait. A tingle of anticipation ran through her and, without warning, as was the way of it, a sense of knowing struck her like a mighty blow. Only this time it was about her.
She could foolishly doubt it, but it would do no good. The sense of what was about to transpire was much too strong, too rooted in her knowing. Still, it was difficult to believe, and yet she knew without a doubt that fate had her wait here—she took a deep breath, not sure if she was ready—to meet her future husband.
“What do we do with her then?” the young one asked anxiously.
Her answer spilled from her lips, shocking her. “My husband has come to get me.”
He walked out of the mist then, as if summoned, emerging slowly, the fog dissipating around him with each confident step he took. He was a formidable figure: tall, his shoulders broad, his body lean, his eyes intense, his long auburn hair blown wild by the irate wind and his long, slim fingers resting heavily on the hilt of his sword. A Highland plaid, the colors a near match to his dark hair, draped proudly around him, and a black wool, fur-lined cloak hugged his wide shoulders.
The three soldiers shuddered, and a shiver ran through her.
Trey MacAlpin.
Bliss knew this man, had helped heal him and kept the secret that he and his three brothers shared—one of them was the true king of Scotland and would soon take the throne.
“Husband of mine, finally you arrive,” she said, walking over to him though her legs trembled. She stretched her hand out, knowing he would not refuse her.
His hand reached out, taking hold of hers tightly and drawing her intimately up against him as only a husband would. The vision came swiftly and left with the same haste. There was no time to consider it. She had to pay heed to the present, and so she tucked it away to examine later.
The young soldier wanted more confirmation, and asked, “This Pict is your woman, your wife?”
Trey didn’t hesitate. “Bliss is my wife.”
Bliss spoke the words that would seal their fate. “Trey is my husband.”
“You are on MacAlpin land,” Trey warned.
“King Kenneth owns all land,” the young soldier challenged. “And all on the land serve him.”
“I serve the true king,” Trey boldly announced.
The young soldier stepped forward, his bravado regained and his hand going to the hilt of his sword. “There is only one true king, and perhaps it is time you served him.”
“Take another step, lad, and it will be your Maker you’ll meet and be serving,” Trey warned with a cold, hard stare that froze the fellow in his steps. “Go back to your king and tell him that the time draws near, and soon he will be king no more.”
Anger had the young soldier taking a hasty step forward as he shouted, “There is only one of you and three of us.”
“Unfair odds for sure, but I have no time to wait for you to fetch more soldiers,” Trey said without a trace of a smile.
Bliss marveled at his confidence and courage. But then his bravery wasn’t foreign to her; she had felt the heart of it pulsing through her when she had helped heal him. She knew then the strength of this man and what he was capable of; but there had also been a moment when a shiver of fear had run through her. He was also a man heavily burdened, and it had troubled her heart to feel his sadness.
Now it troubled her that she had not sensed the connection between them sooner, but then Bliss had learned at an early age that fate often worked in mysterious ways, and it wasn’t for her to question.
The young soldier looked quickly to the other two soldiers, his hand already beginning to draw his sword from its sheath.
“MacAlpin warriors are superior swordsmen,” warned the older soldier.
“I heard tell that one took ten soldiers down on his own, without an ounce of help,” the other said.
“That would be my brother Reeve,” Trey said proudly.
“And another brother survived wounds that would have killed most men,” the older soldier said. “Some say he cannot die.”
Trey nodded. “That would be me.”
The two soldiers took a step back, and the young one spat at them. “Cowards you are. Death claims everyone, and it will claim him today.”
Bliss raised her voice before the soldier took a step. “Death will claim someone this day, but it will not be my husband.”
Her prediction caused all color to drain from the young soldier’s face, and his sword slipped down into its sheath as his hand drifted off the hilt.
“Now be gone, and take my message to your king,” Trey commanded.
They obeyed, disappearing into the woods without a backward glance.
Bliss smiled when he turned his attention on her. “It is good to see you have healed well.”
“With your help, wife,” he said, smiling.
Her heart gave a catch, as if his smile had stolen a beat. Certainly, Fate had had a hand in his defined features, making him the handsomest of men. But it was his eyes she found the most compelling, for she could not be sure if they were blue or green. They seemed to change from one color to the other right before her eyes.
She shook her head. With more important matters at hand, she had no time to be musing over her husband’s good looks.
Husband.
How did she explain this to him?
First, she had to take a step away from him. His arm around her waist felt too intimate. It made her want to step closer to him, rest her body to his, run her hand across his chest, feel his heart beating as rapidly as hers, and wonder if love could truly come from their strange joining.
Bliss slowly slipped out of his embrace, and she thought she detected his reluctance to let her go. “I should explain—”
“Not necessary. You followed your instincts, and it worked well.”
“Yes, though—”
“I am honored to be your husband, if only for a short time.”
“And I am honored to be your wife.”
“We still pretend then?” Trey asked, stepping closer.
Her thoughts turned foggy. She had spent time healing him and had not felt a tug, a pull, a tingle of interest in him. But then she had no visions of him as her future husband. She couldn’t help but wonder why now it was different? Why had fate chosen this moment and this way to bring them together?
She sighed and rested her hand on his arm.
He placed his hand over hers, his warmth not only running
through her but his strength. He was a man of great courage and conviction and a man who loved deeply—and a man who was still recovering from the loss of a love.
Whatever was Fate thinking, sending her a man who still loved another woman?
“You are upset,” Trey said. “You tremble.”
She stared at him a moment, for she did tremble, but inwardly, and he had felt it. “I must explain.”
“No need. I understand how difficult this incident must have been for you. I will see you safely home.”
She shook her head.
“I insist.”
Bliss continued shaking her head, though not because he insisted on escorting her home. “I must tell you something.”
“I’ll listen as we walk.”
He reached for her hand and closed his fingers firmly around hers. Bliss could not help but think how his innocent gesture sealed what Fate had decreed.
She tugged at his hand when he went to walk, forcing him to stay put. With a more adamant tone, she said, “We are husband and wife.”
He nodded, appearing not at all upset by her resolute words, and clearly not understanding what she was trying to convey to him.
“Aye, we should continue to appear so in case other soldiers approach us.”
She shook her head a bit too frantically, worried that he would fail to understand the truth. She poked his chest repeatedly, hoping to make him pay closer attention. “You”—she tapped her chest—“and I are wed. We are truly husband and wife.”
About the Author
Part of the fun in writing, DONNA FLETCHER admits, is doing the research. But it is with her characters that she has the most fun. She loves giving life to fresh characters and feels their excitement as they face the pleasures and pitfalls of falling in love.
Donna’s own adventures have taken her to England, Ireland, and Scotland. She has walked the fields where battles were fought centuries ago, toured haunted castles, stood where beheadings were commonplace, explored the mystic mounds of long ago, and collected a plethora of memories and research that will live long in her heart and mind. She also loves exploring and photographing old abandoned homes, and she often takes long walks in the woods with camera in hand. She feels her life is rich and full, having three terrific sons, two fantastic daughters-in-law, an endless supply of friends, a loving dog, and a crazy, black, one-eyed cat named Bear.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
By Donna Fletcher
A Warrior’s Promise
Loved By a Warrior
Bound to a Warrior
The Highlander’s Forbidden Bride
The Angel and the Highlander
Under the Highlander’s Spell
Return of the Rogue
The Highlander’s Bride
Taken By Storm
The Bewitching Twin
The Daring Twin
Dark Warrior
Legendary Warrior
Coming Soon
Wed to a Highland Warrior
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from Wed to a Highland Warrior copyright © 2012 by Donna Fletcher
A WARRIOR’S PROMISE. Copyright © 2012 by Donna Fletcher. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition MAY 2012 ISBN: 9780062034724
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062034663
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