Highlander’s Tempted Guard (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance)

by Adamina Young

  Highlander’s Tempted Guard

  Adamina Young

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  Contents

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  Prologue

  1. Unrealistic Expectations

  2. A Journey Fraught

  3. Fortune-Teller

  4. Bedroom Blues

  5. Awkward Moments

  6. Harsh Reality

  7. The Horror

  8. Jealousy and Envy

  9. Complications

  10. Decisions, Decisions

  11. The Future is Determined by the Past

  12. Secrets and Lies

  13. Persuasion

  14. Rapprochement

  15. Coming to a Head

  16. Abandon All Hope

  17. Search and Rescue

  18. Confrontation

  19. New Alliances

  Highlander’s Moonlight Seduction

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

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  About the Author

  Prologue

  Daividh stepped into the armor room where the laird of Dunavar Castle stood sharpening his claymore.

  He had a full head of red hair threaded with streaks of grey and his beard framed his face in an even creamy well-groomed down like an ancient king of yore. He looked up as Daividh took another step towards him, dark blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

  Behind him stood another man that Daividh was unfamiliar with.

  From his garments and straight-backed proud stance, Daividh could only conclude that he was a laird as well, perhaps coming to entreat his own for a favor or to exchange news.

  It was none of Daividh’s business who he was or what he wanted. As a clan warrior, it was his job to obey his liege lord in all things. He came to a stop, standing at attention, midnight-blue eyes staring ahead, his long brown hair tied in a queue at the base of his skull, his muscular and unusually tall figure towering over his laird as he waited for orders.

  “Daividh! ’Tis guid tae see ye. At ease,” Laird McCormick said with a smile.

  The warrior only relaxed fractionally, still alert, and ready to move at a moment’s notice. He kept his eyes trained just to the right of the laird’s shoulder.

  “I have a task for ye if ye will consent to undertake it,” his laird said.

  “Command me, and I shall obey.” His voice was deep and firm.

  Laird McCormick blinked at him a few times as if assessing his ability to do as he was told. He inhaled deeply and then took a step closer to Daividh.

  “The task is... a delicate one, and ye must carry it oot in utmost secrecy. This is crucial. Do you understand?”

  Daividh’s eyes slid of their own volition to meet those of the laird, curiosity burning in his heart. “I understand.”

  “Guid. My kin Murdo Fife Douglass has sadly passed away. I need ye to go to Braenaird Keep and retrieve his daughter, Fiona, and bring her here to me. I need ye to travel expeditiously. Can ye do tha’ frae me?”

  Daividh frowned, his mind filled with questions it was not his place to ask. “Yes, sir. Is there any threat I should ken aboot?”

  “Aye and nay. The threat isnae physical, no one is oot to harm her. But there are urgent pecuniary matters that must be settled nonetheless. Ye’re not tae speak wi’ her as ye journey unless absolutely necessary. Ye ken?”

  Daividh nodded. “I see. I shall depart right away then sir.”

  “I am relying on ye Campbell. Dinnae let me down.”

  Daividh shook his head determinedly. “I shallnae.”

  His laird clapped him on the shoulder. “Ye may pick the fastest horse ye can find frae the stables. Mrs. Dougal will ha’ packed ye some food. Leave at once.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  He felt their eyes on him as he strode out of the room, his back straight, blue eyes determined. It was a mystery to him why they were sending a warrior on such a mission. It seemed to him that a trusted steward could have carried out the job if all that was needed was an escort. He suspected that there was more to this than his laird was saying, however, it was not his business to inquire. All he could do was carry out the job as stated.

  He hoped the girl was not too much of a shrinking violet. He had been told that his figure was perceived as threatening by some of the female persuasion—at least those that did not swoon at his feet and bat their lashes at him.

  He sighed as he made a detour to the kitchen to pick up his food from Mrs. Dougal. He hated to walk into any situation blind, with no knowledge of what to expect. Perhaps he could pump Mrs. Dougal for information on that household. After all, she had worked for the laird longer than anyone else he knew.

  * * *

  His face softened as he stepped in the kitchen and he tried on a smile. He was not very good at being amiable, but Mrs. Dougal was fortunately not intimidated by anyone, certainly not him. She looked up from her dough as he walked in, narrowing her eyes at his muddy boots.

  “Not in here lad.”

  He sighed, rolling his eyes as he backtracked and slipped his shoes off outside the door, walking back into the kitchen in just his stockings. She nodded with satisfaction and bade him sit, pushing a bowl of parritch towards him.

  “I understand ye’re off tae fetch young Fiona frae Braenaird Keep.”

  His attention sharpened on her even as he spooned some parritch and brought it to his lips. “Ye ken her?”

  Mrs. Dougal smiled fondly as she continued to knead her dough, watery grey eyes far away. “Aye. Little Fiona Douglass was a little firebrand when she was a lassie. I dinnae reckon they managed tae beat it oot o’ her.”

  “So she’s likely tae gi’ me trouble?”

  Mrs. Dougal shrugged. “I dinnae ken. Havenae seen her in a few years. Not since the auld laird fell ill.”

  “Hmmm.” Daividh slurped his parritch thoughtfully, filing away the information in case it became necessary.

  “Are ye sure aboot this lad? He willnae fail ye?” Pàdraig Dàibhidh Hunter, Laird of Cumlochan, asked his friend, Laird of Dunavar.

  Donnchadh nodded slowly. “He has proven himself time and again to be reliable. I havenae any doubt he will deliver. ”

  “Guid. Because ’tis important that we are wed before news of Laird Braenaird’s death spreads. Ye ken the urgency as weel as I do.”

  “Aye, I do. That is why I chose Campbell. I gave him three days he will be here in the beginning of the third. I am sure of it.”

  “Aye weel...I hope ye’re right aboot this. I dinnae want tae think of the consequences if ye’re not.”

  “Neither do I. I wouldnae ha’ chosen him if I wasnae sure. So ye can stop worrying. Have some uisge and wait.”

  Laird Cumlochan sighed as he moved to the drinks tray and poured himself a large glass of whisky. He lifted his glass to Laird Dunavar. “Slainte.”

  Laird Dunavar nodded back then turned away from his friend before letting his brow furrow with worry. He could not help but worry. There was a lot riding on the success of this venture. This girl was too valuable. That is why he needed a warrior.

  1

  Unrealistic Expectations

  Ùna was keeping an excited eye on the road as the rest of the Douglass girls continued with their embroidery under the watchful
eye of their governess. Fiona, being the temporary head of the house, was not required to sit with the others. But there was not much else to do at this time of day and all her sisters were here. She knew from the letter her uncle sent that she did not have much time left to spend with them.

  There was Jamesina who was Fiona’s follower and the spitting image of their mother with her fiery red locks and deer-wide brown eyes. The procession of freckles across her nose highlighted her resemblance to a doe. Fenella and Maisie were the terrible two, chestnut-haired twins identical down to their impish grins. They were doe-eyed too though they lacked the innocence that brightened Jamesina’s eyes. Aileen was the quiet unassuming fourth-born, coltishly tall, rail-thin, and pale. The very epitome of a shrinking violet. In spite of her height, she was a veritable wallflower. Then there was Ùna who was round with baby fat, her hazel eyes bright and interested in everything. She wore her auburn curls in two long plaits and tended to bounce about rather than walk.

  Fiona loved them all as much as they loved her, and hoped that these summons to her uncle’s house would not take her away from them for too long. Now that their father had unfortunately passed away, they all looked to her for reassurance. She already missed them even though she had not left yet. She lowered her head to hide the sadness in her green eyes, a lock of red hair falling into her eyes. She flicked it back and pasted a smile on her face before turning back to her sisters, straightening her shoulders so that her slim frame stood tall and confident among them. It would not do to show weakness now.

  Suddenly Ùna screamed and the rest of them immediately put down their sewing in order to crowd around the window and see what she was so happy about.

  “There he is! I think that’s him! The man you will travel with.” she squealed. As the youngest amongst them, Ùna was allowed to be unbridled in her enthusiasm. The rest of them felt obligated to display a more stoic mien. Maisie and Fenella turned to Fiona. “D’ye think that it’s him? What did the letter say? He looks handsome. And strong. He’ll be able to protect us without any trouble.”

  Curiosity piqued, Fiona moved to the window as well. Her uncle’s letter had simply stated that he had arranged a marriage for her and that she was to come to Dunavar at once. He would send someone to fetch her.

  He had not said whether the person he was sending was the groom. She narrowed her eyes at the tall man riding straight-backed into their compound, he had long hair falling to his shoulders and he was not shaved. A claymore strapped to his side. He resembled a soldier more than a lord. Was she to travel alone with him if he was not to be her husband?

  “I’m not sure who he is,” she said softly. “I suspect we shall find out soon enough.”

  “Can we go down tae meet him?” Ùna barely restrained herself from jumping up and down.

  “We shall wait for him tae be announced and then we go. Have ye forgotten yer manners already?” Fiona gave her an admonishing glance even as the governess nodded approvingly.

  “I’m sorry.” Ùna curled in on herself, suitably chastened. Fiona patted her on the head and then moved aside so that Aileen could pick her up and hold her in her lap, even though Ùna really was too old for that. Fiona kept watching the man as he alighted his horse with grace and strode to the door. He seemed quite sure of himself and Fiona found herself hoping that he would be her intended.

  The butler came into the room to announce that they had a visitor.

  “A Mr. Campbell to see ye Miss Fiona.”

  “Where have ye put him?”

  “In the conservatory...his boots are muddy.” He made a moue of distaste.

  Fiona giggled. “Alrigh’ then. I shall go and see him.”

  Jamesina immediately got to her feet. “I shall come with ye.”

  Fiona was about to protest but then thought better of it. No need to be alone with the man in a way that might be misconstrued later. “Alrigh’ then, but only ye. The rest o’ ye, stay here with Miss MacKenzie.”

  There was some grumbling in the room but her sisters were generally obedient and didn’t give her much trouble. She took a deep breath, leading the way to her conservatory, Jamesina at her heels. As they opened the door, the man, Mr. Campbell, swiveled around to face them, his blue eyes alert looking from one to the other.

  “Which o’ ye is Miss Fiona Iseabail Douglass?” he rasped.

  Fiona stiffened at his tone, which was icy and distant. Not the greeting one would hope for from a possible future husband. “I am Fiona. Pray tell, what is yer business here?”

  “I am charged with collecting and delivering ye tae Laird Dunavar. He informed me that ye were expecting me.”

  Fiona opened her mouth and closed it. From the way he spoke, it was as if she was merely a parcel to be shuttled from place to place. She did not like it at all.

  “My uncle did write tae me. He said he would send someone tae bring me tae him. There was no talk o’ collecting or delivering.”

  The man shrugged nonchalantly. “Whitevur words ye chuse tae use is fine wi’ me.”

  Irritation bubbled through Fiona’s breast and her brow furrowed as she regarded him with annoyance. Such a vexing man! Looks could certainly be deceiving. He might look handsome and protective but he was just a rude oaf.

  She turned sharply and sat on the bench, looking out into the garden as he slowly came towards them and sat across, blocking her view.

  “So which one o’ you is the lassie to be delivered then?” he asked breezily.

  Fiona narrowed her eyes at him. “I am.”

  He looked at her and paused, but only for a moment. “Fine then. Get yer things together so we can get on the road.”

  “What, now?” she gaped at him in stupefaction. “Ye only just got here.”

  “Aye, and yer uncle is expecting ye in twa days. We have tae hurry.”

  Fiona shook her head. “I dinnae understand. What’s the hurry?”

  Mr. Campbell shrugged. “I dinnae ken. But I have my orders and I intend to carry them out so go and get your things together and let us go.”

  Fiona blinked at him in surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had ordered her about in such a blatantly offensive manner. In fact, now that she thought about it, she could not recall anyone ever speaking to her in such a way.

  “I beg yer pardon?” she squeaked.

  “Ye heard me. Go now then.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Daylight’s a-wasting.”

  Fiona exchanged shocked glances with Jamesina. Her sister cleared her throat. “Er excuse me sir, in this hoose we dinnae speak tae each other like tha’. I'll thank ye tae keep a civil tongue in yer head.”

  Fiona stared at Jamesina, never having heard her speak to anyone in such a stern fashion. In that moment, she reminded Fiona poignantly of their mother. She nodded to show her agreement with Jamesina’s words, pursing her lips at the soldier. He seemed unimpressed.

  “I wasnae aware that I was anything but polite.” He mockingly put his hand over his heart and bowed. “Forgive me if I offended. Now can we go?”

  Fiona did not want to leave so fast. She wasn’t ready.

  “Yer uncle said there was some urgency. I dinnae think it would be wise for ye tae delay,” Mr. Campbell added and Fiona’s brow furrowed in worry. If there was something that might affect her sisters she should probably find out what it was as soon as possible. She heaved a sigh of resignation and turned to her sister. “Come Jamesina. Help me tae pack and tell the others.” She flicked a glance at the soldier and said curtly, “Wait here.”

  He nodded once and turned away towards the window. Fiona shook her head, took hold of Jamesina’s hand, and left the room. As soon as they had reached her bedchamber, Jamesina turned on her with wide eyes. “Ye’re nae leaving here wi’ that man alone. I’m coming wi’ ye.”

  “Of course I’m nae leaving wi’ him alone! But ye need tae stay here wi’ the lassies. I’ll take Julieta with me.”

  “Yer lady’s maid? What use will she be tae ye?”

&nbs
p; “She’ll be a companion and a chaperone. I do not think Uncle Donnchadh would send someone who would harm me. He is here to protect me on my journey.”

  Jamesina sighed. “I’ll follow yer lead but if’n I dinnae hear from ye in five days I shall come tae Dunavar tae get ye.”

  Fiona grinned. “I shall expect nothing less.”

  Fiona rubbed her horse, Atlas, down, soothing her with words and apple treats before getting on her back, while Mr. Campbell watched impatiently. He seemed put out about everything. The fact that Julieta was coming had earned a scowl. The delay while her lady’s maid packed their things, including food, had him pacing impatiently up and down. And now he was growling under his breath as she soothed her horse.

  She was beginning to think that the ride to Dunavar might just be excruciating.

  “Why are ye sae unpleasant?” She’d blurted out the words before she could think as she gave Atlas one more treat before mounting her.

  “Perhaps I am simply impatient with all yer unnecessary delays. We have tae be at Dunavar in twa days and at this rate we shallnae make it.”

  Fiona snorted. “We’ll make it just fine. It isnae that far. But ye willnae tell me why the urgency?”

  He shrugged. “I dinnae ken. I am but an escort.”

  Fiona nodded, her brow furrowed with worry. “I see.” She pulled on the reins to turn her horse towards the gate. All her sisters were waiting for her by the front door and she dismounted in order to hug them all, despite Mr. Campbell’s obvious disapproval.