How to Handle a Highlander

by Mary Wine

  “I am not asking them to,” the king said. “Lord Home, you shall ask only if they know who that has been seen on. Since your sister was at Court often when my father ruled, if it is hers, someone will recall. You will all remain at Court until I call for you again. Laird Fraser, you and your sister are dismissed.”

  The king gestured to the royal guards to open the doors. Bari and Sandra had no choice but to leave. Gahan tugged on the corner of his own cap, but the king shook his head.

  “You’ll stay, Gahan Sutherland.”

  “Yer Majesty,” he protested, “I would prefer—”

  “I know what you seek,” the king said as the doors closed. “But I need to understand the Sutherlands, and that includes you. Your bride is sitting just beyond these doors. My court is secure.”

  Gahan wasn’t pleased, not by far. But the sooner the king was happy, the sooner he might return to the Highlands.

  ***

  Bari Fraser stopped the moment they were far enough away from the other members of Court.

  “Did ye wear that flower at Court?”

  Sandra was angry, but she nodded. Bari drew in a deep breath.

  “Ye’ll go to our mother’s family in Italy.”

  Her eyes brightened. Bari started walking toward their apartments. “I’ll give ye gold. Ye must get on a ship leaving today. Cover yer face and hair so no one on the docks sees ye. Wear something common. I’ll have to condemn ye in front of the king. Ye’ll nae return to Scotland in this life.”

  “I hear it’s warm in Italy, and that they wear silk dresses.” She smiled but stopped. Bari turned to look at her. “Yet I will have me vengeance on Gahan Sutherland.”

  “Time is precious, Sandra.”

  “So is the knowledge that I will nae leave ye here defeated.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “One last little strike to make sure the Sutherlands know they are nae untouchable.”

  Bari was intrigued. “What are ye thinking?”

  Sandra smiled and pointed across the crowded rooms of the Court to where Moira sat. Nareen Grant looked up and stood as another lady called out to her. Leaving Moira alone.

  “Love is such a rare thing, Gahan Sutherland might never find it again,” Sandra purred. “He shall pay the price for locking me away.”

  Bari nodded. “A fair exchange.”

  ***

  “My lady.” Moira looked up, and a young page lowered himself. He leaned close to keep his words from drifting. “Gahan Sutherland bids you meet him in the garden labyrinth.”

  The boy was gone the instant he finished speaking. Moira looked for Nareen, but the Earl of Ross’s daughter was demanding her attention.

  The evening shadows were falling, but the moon was full. Gahan’s promise to court her floated through her memory. A moonlit labyrinth was a perfect place to begin.

  She moved toward the door and went outside without anyone noticing. The air was warm, and the smell of springtime made her smile. The labyrinth was made of hedges that might be groomed to change the maze. They rose two feet over her head. A shiver rippled over her skin as she entered the labyrinth, but she enjoyed it. The sensation was part of the maze’s charm.

  “Gahan?” She wasn’t sure she should call out. There was likely more than one couple trysting in the moonlit garden. Someone whistled like a hawk, drawing a breathless sound from her. She picked up her skirt and hurried around the next bend.

  “Ye always were stupid, Moira,” Sandra announced with glee.

  Bari caught her, binding her arms from behind. He slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her. “Make it quick, Sandra,” he growled. “We must be gone well before anyone looks for her.”

  Sandra pouted but put her hand into a hidden slit in her skirt and withdrew a dagger from a strap on her thigh. “Gahan Sutherland will suffer for locking me away in that tower.” Sandra raised the dagger high, moonlight flashing on its blade.

  Time froze, allowing Moira to feel each beat of her heart. Gahan’s face rose in her memory, filling her with regret for the years they were going to be denied. She heard the blade whiz through the air. Sandra smiled, and then her head fell away from her body.

  Bari released Moira, and she stumbled away, horrified. Gahan stood before her. She wasn’t sure where he’d come from. The tip of his sword was poised at Bari’s neck.

  “Do not run him through,” the king ordered.

  His expression was grim as he struggled to obey his king. The blade was wet, and she gasped as she realized he’d decapitated Sandra.

  “Easy, lass,” Cam muttered as he caught her and held her steady on her feet.

  The labyrinth was suddenly full of men, the moonlight casting them all in silver, like the heroes of some myth. Even Sandra’s headless body looked surreal.

  “Ye cannae mean to let him live,” Gahan growled.

  “No,” the king confirmed to his retainers at his side. “He’ll be judged by his peers and executed.”

  Bari was staring at Sandra’s body, his face a mask of grief. The king’s words drew Gahan’s attention. Bari charged him in that moment, lunging around the sword pointed at him. The moonlight flashed off a small blade clutched in Bari’s hand. Gahan roared and swung his sword in a wide arc. Bari’s head rolled onto the ground, resting near Sandra’s.

  No one spoke until the heavy silence was broken by Lytge Sutherland. “I trust there will be no further doubt as to the guilt of those two.”

  “Or of the Sutherland loyalty,” the king assured him quietly. He drew himself up and began walking back toward the palace. The royal retainers followed him.

  Gahan handed off his sword to Cam. Moira’s entire body shook, her knees threatening to buckle. Gahan gathered her into his embrace, and she buried her face against his chest.

  “How did…how did ye know where I was?”

  He kissed her forehead. “Ye are mine, Moira, and I protect what is mine. There was no way I’d let ye out of Sutherland sight, even if it was the king demanding me presence.”

  He took her hand and led her away from the bodies. She did not look back.

  ***

  “What do ye mean we are still nae free to depart?” Gahan’s voice was raised, but the king only grinned at him.

  “There is still a sin to be accounted for.”

  Gahan ground his teeth, frustration edging his tone. “And what might that be, Yer Majesty?”

  “You are guilty of fornication, and I will witness the wedding myself,” he declared.

  “Well now, lad, if that’s the way ye plan to rule, there are going to be a lot of weddings!” Lytge exclaimed with a chuckle.

  The king laughed. “In this case, I must witness the nuptials before bestowing the title of Laird Fraser upon your son, as there are no other claims better than his wife’s. I hope the Fraser clan will return to being productive and happy with a laird who is worthy of their loyalty.”

  Everyone waited to see what Gahan would say. He would have to wear the colors of the Fraser, leaving his father’s plaid behind. It would be a hard thing for any Highlander, because loyalty was more important than position.

  “I ask you to become more than what your father has given you, Gahan Sutherland,” the king said. “You shall have to earn the respect of the Frasers, and I do not think it shall be a simple thing.”

  Gahan spoke at last. “It will be a challenge.”

  “A son of mine is worthy of any challenge,” Lytge declared.

  “As such, you shall retain the noble crest of your father,” the king decided. “Yet you shall be created a baron in your own right, and that title shall pass to your son.”

  Gahan locked stares with his father for a long moment. The earl nodded once, granting his blessing.

  “I will strive to earn that respect, Yer Majesty.”

  “I believe they will give it,” Moira assured him. “I know I shall.”

  ***

  The moment the priest finished the last blessing, the music began. Dancers filled the floors as platter after p
latter of food was laid on the tables. Wine and whisky flowed freely, but Moira merely sipped at her glass.

  “Do ye nae like the wine?” Gahan asked her.

  “It is well.”

  “Then why are ye nae drinking it?”

  She set the goblet aside, and a young lad reached for it to make sure it was not unattended. She slid her hand over her husband’s jaw and looked into his dark eyes.

  “I have been granted something I thought impossible, and would nae suffer having me wits dulled. I want to know ye are me husband, without the slightest doubt. Ye should set yers aside too.”

  He handed his own goblet to a lad waiting on him. “I believe I am going to enjoy taking direction from ye, lass.”

  “Hmm, I can think of a few…suggestions I may have.” She leaned forward so he was treated to a view of her cleavage. “But I need to be free of this bodice first.”

  He grinned arrogantly, and it made her bold again. He pushed his chair back and scooped her up, to the delight of the Court. They cheered him on as he carried her out of the hall.

  ***

  “That savage is looking at ye again,” Abigail Ross complained to Nareen. The Earl of Ross’s daughter never liked sharing attention.

  “I do nae know the man, lady,” Nareen said.

  Abigail Ross frowned and glared past Nareen at Saer MacLeod. But he only smiled back at her. The curving of his lips didn’t soften his features any. Instead, he looked like a hungry wolf making ready to pounce. Abigail shuddered and made the sign of the cross over herself.

  “Ye must have done something to draw his attention.” She patted her chest, as though she might be able to calm her racing heart with the gesture. “I simply cannae tolerate something like this. Tell him ye are nae interested, or ye shall be dismissed. I need no gossip clinging to the skirts of me attendants.”

  Nareen frowned, but Abigail gestured her away. “Go on, I’ll nae tolerate even the hint of scandal.”

  She turned with a grunt, her chin in the air.

  “Well, that saves me the trouble of getting around that old bat,” Saer muttered as he moved close to her.

  Nareen offered him a smile, leaning forward just a bit. “It saves ye naught, for she was never the obstacle between us. There is, in fact, naught between us. I find that very pleasing. I also find me position pleasing, so do nae ruffle the lady’s feathers.”

  “If staring unsettles her, it’s little wonder she is unwed. But I am nae here to talk about her.” He reached for her hand, but she slapped his before their skin connected.

  “Ye have nothing I wish to hear. Good-bye, Laird MacLeod.” His nostrils flared. It was a small response, but one she noticed. With a little flare of her skirts, she lowered herself and turned away.

  Saer watched her go. Her poise was perfect, her carriage unfaltering as she made her way through the Court. She smiled and nodded, never appearing hurried. Anyone else would have seen nothing to fault her for. But he’d seen the fear in her eyes.

  What infuriated him was the fact that the fear did not make her timid. Instead, she used it to fuel her determination. His cock stirred as he detected just a hint of the scent of her skin. It was a savage thing to think and feel, but it was honest. He suspected Nareen Grant might just understand him. It would take a woman of courage to do so.

  First, he’d have to gain her attention.

  ***

  Saer MacLeod was already in the stable when Kael Grant appeared. The horizon was just showing a hint of pink, but Saer had his stallion saddled and ready.

  Kael was surprised to see that his own stallion was also ready.

  “Did I get drunk enough last eve to forget I told ye I’d be leaving at dawn?” Kael asked. He checked the straps and bridle on his horse, then nodded.

  Saer swung his leg up and over the back of his horse before responding. “Depends on how ye define the phrase ‘told me.’”

  “It’s a simple enough concept, man.”

  Saer chuckled, the sound low and dark. “Ye’re going after yer kinswoman who proved untrustworthy—the cousin who almost sold off yer sister.”

  Kael mounted, as did his men. He gathered up the reins and glared at Saer. “It needs doing. I trusted her with me sister.”

  “Aye, that is the sort of thing ye cannae allow to go unpunished,” Saer agreed. “And I’m going with ye.” The MacLeod retainers were waiting just a few feet away to follow their laird.

  Kael’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “Because yer sister is a woman who respects those who prove themselves. I plan to earn her respect and prove me worth.”

  Kael growled, but Saer was already riding through the yard. The man wasn’t asking to come along; he was declaring his intention to do so. It should have bruised his pride, but Kael found himself amused. His sister Nareen had never conformed to the submissive role her sex was restricted to. Men had offered for her, powerful ones. But she’d turned them down because she would not submit. He doubted Saer MacLeod would be content with anything but full surrender.

  It was possible the savage laird from the isles was exactly what his sister needed.

  ***

  “I did not expect to find you here, Laird Sutherland.”

  Lytge opened his eyes but made the cross over himself before turning to look at the king. It took a moment to rise from his knees.

  “For all our bluster and titles, we are but men, Yer Majesty.”

  James offered him a pleased look. “We are, indeed. I hope I shall see you again.”

  The earl looked around the chapel, his face reflecting years of memories. At last he pulled in a deep breath and nodded, as though he’d completed something he’d been working on.

  “Nay, Yer Majesty. Each man needs to accept his own mortality.” He gave the king a hard look. “Ye’ll understand it more in time, but I think ye have begun to see that life is a fleeting thing. I’ll nae walk the halls of this palace again.”

  “Yet you are strong and healthy,” the king argued.

  “And a man who has seen more than sixty years.” Lytge winked. “I’m nae planning on shaking Saint Peter’s hand just yet, mind ye. He’s been kind to me, though. Letting me watch me sons grow to men. I’m going north to Sutherland to watch me grandson learn to walk, and hopefully see the birth of another one or two.”

  He reached out and gripped the king’s shoulder. The royal retainers edged closer, but James waved them back.

  “Ye are always welcome at Dunrobin.” Lytge moved back a step and lowered himself before the young king.

  “You are a true nobleman,” the king replied.

  But the earl grimaced. “I’m a Highlander, lad! From the day me mother pushed me into this world, I’ve been proud to be a man of the North. Me sons will bury me in me kilt, and if God is kind, He’ll let me tumble a buxom wench the night before He takes me away.”

  The earl rose up and flashed an arrogant grin at the king, then turned and strode from the chapel. There was a spring in his step, and he roared when he reached the doors, “Saddle the horses and wake me son, Gahan! We’re heading north to Sutherland, lads! I need to see the Highlands!”

  ***

  “Wake up, lass.”

  Moira groaned and opened her eyes. Gahan laughed at her. “Come, Wife, ye can sleep at Seabhac.”

  She smiled, her head clearing as excitement burned the fog away.

  “Do I detect enthusiasm for our journey?”

  “Indeed ye do, Husband.” She left the bed and began pulling on her stockings.

  The velvet-draped bed didn’t even gain a second glance as she left the chamber. The opulent hallway didn’t interest her. Being able to appear beside Gahan was what she craved, and for the first time, there was nothing to stop her from doing it.

  The earl was already making ready. Lytge turned to look at them. “About time ye got out of bed!”

  Horses shifted and snorted. Norris was already in the saddle, eager to rejoin his wife. The Sutherland banners were in the hands o
f the standard-bearers who would ride at the front of the columns, but the Fraser retainers appeared with their own flags. They looked toward Gahan, waiting for him to place them. There was strain on their faces as they watched to see what their new laird would be like.

  “We’ll ride behind me father, lads.” Gahan took the stallion they’d readied for him. A length of Fraser plaid was draped over the saddle. Gahan stared at it for a long moment before reaching out to take it. “And it seems I’m wearing the wrong colors. Me thanks for correcting me.”

  The Frasers sent up a cheer. Moira followed her husband into the palace again to seek a chamber to change in.

  “Ye’re going to wear it?”

  “Pleat yer colors for me, Moira. It is yer place to pass them to me.”

  He pulled his belt open and caught his Sutherland plaid. He took a moment to fold the cloth carefully before setting it on a table.

  She shivered with joy. Tears filled Moira’s eyes and made wet paths down her cheeks. Gahan cupped her chin and looked at her in confusion.

  “I’m happy,” she explained. “So very happy to see these colors going on a man worthy of them.”

  “Yet ye cry…”

  “Women do that,” Norris interrupted from the doorway. “Do nae waste any time trying to make sense of it.”

  Moira looked around Gahan as she helped him into the kilt. She stuck her tongue out at her new brother-in-law.

  Norris laughed and held the door open for his brother. He looked at the kilt and sniffed. “I suppose I cannae curse the Fraser name anymore.”

  Gahan smoothed a hand down the front of his kilt, staring at the colors for a long moment. He finally nodded and looked up. “Nay, ye cannae. Because I am Laird Fraser.”

  He walked to the door, and the Fraser retainers let out another cheer. The horses jerked against their handlers, but the Frasers didn’t quiet down quickly. Gahan turned and offered Moira a hand.

  “I think it’s time ye showed me Seabhac Tower.”

  She smiled, gripping his hand and pulling him through the doorway. “I cannae wait.”

  Read on for excerpts from Mary Wine’s Scottish romance

  Available now from Sourcebooks Casablanca

  To Conquer a Highlander