by Cathy MacRae
“Forgive an old fool. Watching ye walk down the stairs reminds me of the day I gave away my Rossalyn in marriage to yer da.”
Anna accepted his arm with a smile on her face, gripping him firmly. “I think Mother and Father would be happy today, don’t you?”
“Aye, they would indeed. Verra happy. ’Tis a good man ye marry. I can go to my maker knowing ye will be loved and well cared for. Before I depart, howbeit, I would like to hold some great-grandbairns.”
Anna laughed at his request. “I will speak to my husband. We shall see what can be done.”
As they exited the hall, Anna gasped, astonished by the crowd of people gathered in the bailey. They stood on either side of a flower-decorated path leading to the kirk, its doors open wide. From where she stood, the small chapel appeared packed with people. Glancing through the doors, her eyes sought only one. She found him standing at the door with the priest. When she met his gaze, every care dropped away, and she hardly noticed her grandfather place her hand in Duncan’s.
As they bowed before the priest, Anna tried to concentrate on the words said, repeating her vows in a clear and confident voice. Entering the kirk, they bowed at the altar according to the priest’s direction. When they rose, she faced the man who held her heart. He placed a simple gold band, with a knot etched into the metal, on her finger.
Pulling her into an embrace, Duncan lowered his head. Without hesitation, Anna met him, offering her lips for his possession. The kiss was tender, but too short for her liking. She reminded herself this would be but one of thousands of kisses they would share from henceforth.
Duncan tucked her hand against his chest and turned her to face the cheering crowd before them.
“Are ye ready for the festivities, love?”
Heat flared in her cheeks. “Tonight?” she hissed, her gaze darting to the side to see if anyone else heard him.
He threw back his head with a hearty laugh. “Och, that, too. But I referred to the feasting and games and exhibitions.” He tilted his head at her. “Will ye compete?”
Pleased he considered her wishes, Anna turned sultry eyes on him. “Aye, milord. Let the games begin.”
DD’s Note to the Reader
The inspiration of Anna was born of two things, my 35 years of love of martial arts and fascination with the Crusades. She is actually a composite of two women I used to train with. With the exception of her archery, the other skills are held by a combination of both of these ladies. I attempted to keep the weaponry and abilities authentic to the period. In Chinese martial arts, it was common to learn the art of healing along with, or before one learned to fight, hence Anna’s knowledge of acupuncture and other herbal healing. History tells us acupuncture goes back thousands of years.
The trick was to figure out a way to get Chinese martial arts and weaponry, along with healing arts, into medieval England, and the 9th Crusades provided the vehicle. During this period, the Silk Road, which was a means for many cultures and peoples to mingle, was dominated by the Mongols as they and the Muslim Mamluks fought for superiority in the region. When Edward (Longshanks), son of Henry III, came crusading after arriving too late to aid Louis IX of France in the capture of Tunis, he headed toward the Holy Land. Edward negotiated an alliance with the Mongols to fight the Mamluks in the region.
While seeing some success in places like Tripoli (modern day Lebanon and Syria) and Acre (Northern Israel), Edward withdrew due to pressing needs back home. The 9th Crusade wasn’t a loss per se, but rather the campaign ran out of steam as its principals were needed elsewhere.
The backstory for Highland Escape gives us Sir Everard Braxton, a English knight, who proved instrumental in the campaign in Tripoli and was in turn rewarded with a small barony in the borderlands. It was common for second sons who wouldn’t inherit and other knights to go on crusade for the opportunity to earn land and wealth in the Holy Land, or purchase land for themselves with the spoils back home. Some would say such a title and holding wasn’t much of a reward, as the borders were a dangerous and tumultuous place, particularly at this time. Longshanks would want men he knew to be loyal and strong at the border.
Having won victory at Tripoli, it wasn’t a stretch for Braxton to have freed Mamluk prisoners. Zhang was a bodyguard to a rich merchant who plied the Silk Road who met with a foul end. Attaching himself to Braxton in exchange for his freedom, Zhang provided the means of cultural transfer to the borders of Northern medieval England. His time in captivity would have changed his perspective on training, much like US POWs in Viet Nam changed how military training is done today. Anna and her brother Edrick became beneficiaries of his experience.
Braxton used diplomacy rather than war to keep the peace on his piece of the border by marrying the daughter of the local Scottish laird. While this made him a peacekeeper in his territory, it set up an impossible situation for his daughter, who was despised for her Scot’s blood south of the border, and for her English heritage north of it. This provided enough conflict for Anna to become someone other than a pampered English noblewoman.
We hope you enjoyed Anna’s story and the rich history behind it.
Acknowledgements
We’d like to thank our critique partners and those who had input in this book: Vonda Sinclair, Dawn Marie Hamilton and Cate Park. You are the best!
Thanks and much appreciation to our wonderful editor, Simone Seguin, and fantastic cover artist, Rae Monet.
About the Authors
Cathy and DD MacRae have been critique partners for several years and worked together to create the book you just read. Cathy has authored 4 books in her Highlander’s Bride series (with a 5th one on the way). DD writes both contemporary and historical romance books, one of each scheduled to be released in the next year.
Other Books by Cathy MacRae
The Highlander’s Bride series:
The Highlander’s Accidental Bride (book 1)
http://www.amzn.com/B00BMFPT12
The Highlander’s Reluctant Bride (book 2)
http://www.amzn.com/B00J1PNPPC
The Highlander’s Tempestuous Bride (book 3)
http://www.amzn.com/B00P89UHME
The Highlander’s Outlaw Bride (book 4)
http://www.amzn.com/B00UD9JMBQ
Kinnon’s Story (working title) (book 5)
coming 2015
http://www.cathymacraeauthor.com
Read an excerpt from
Kinnon’s Story
(working title)
by Cathy MacRae
1380, Châteauneuf-de-Randon, France
Kinnon Macrory stared into the face of death.
’Tis nae fair. After all the battles I have survived, to arrive at this. He would have sighed at the injustice of it, but he was, quite frankly, afraid to make an unnecessary move.
The black mask surrounded dark topaz eyes, a burnished coat, and a fine set of strong, glistening white teeth revealing themselves from beneath snarling black jowls. The Alaunt’s ears lay flat against his skull in warning, and his hair stood up along his neck and shoulders. As did Kinnon’s.
Shite.
He lifted his eyes carefully from the reddened hand laid across the dog’s neck. The slender fingers could have belonged to a nobleman’s daughter, but the nails were short and the skin rough. Amazing what the mind registers when death is imminent. Kinnon’s gaze wandered further. The owner of the hand wore a serviceable gown, patched areas meticulously sewn, sleeve cuff turned back on itself, almost hiding the frayed edges. A smudged apron covered the front of the gown, the bucket of milk at her feet announcing her job before he arrived. And came face-to-face with death.
“Do ye mind calling off yer beast?” He offered a winsome smile, splaying his hands at his side, a small bag of coins in his left palm. The young woman stared at him, giving the bag only a brief glance.
He tried again. “Chien?”
The young woman’s gaze did not waver—clear, cold blue eyes bore into his. Wisps of black hair curled da
mply against her temple, attesting to her work ethic and the warmth of the day. Her thin nose sat atop full, red lips that neither smiled nor frowned at him.
The dog growled, a deep menacing sound originating from his enormous chest that warned Kinnon from making a further move—if he wanted to keep his throat intact.
Kinnon did.
His heartbeat kicked up. The impressive muscles in the dog’s forelegs rippled, his claws gripped the ground, his hindquarters bunched, ready to launch himself at the least provocation. Savage power quivered beneath the thin hand of a milkmaid Kinnon could have easily tossed over his shoulder without so much as a grunt of effort. Endless moments passed as he roundly cursed the man who sent him to this farm on an errand better suited to one of the camp lackeys.
“Se calmer, Jean-Baptiste,” the young woman murmured as the dog leaned forward.
“Jean-Baptiste?” Kinnon couldn’t help himself. “Ye call this beast John the Baptizer?”
The woman gave him an inscrutable look, but the edge of her lips quivered, threatened to smile. “He has changed la religion of more than one man.”
Kinnon’s eyebrows shot upward and he shifted his weight against a sympathetic ache in his loins. “Aye. I can believe that.”
He took measure of the enormous beast, its shoulder almost even with the woman’s waist, his possessiveness clear. With his mistress’s soft command, the dog settled, but his eyes did not waver, his threat remained unmistakable.
“I was sent to ask ye for what supplies I could buy.” Kinnon gently flipped the small bag in his hand. The movement and clink of coin drew the woman’s attention.
“You brought coin?” She snorted and hefted the milk bucket in one slender hand. “Most simply take what they want.”
Kinnon moved instinctively to take the burden from her but froze at the snarling response from Jean-Baptiste. His startled gaze darted to the milkmaid, gaging her next action. Cool blue eyes met his, and this time, the young woman smiled.
“Merci, but I can manage. If you would like to keep your virilité intact, please take a step back. Jean-Baptiste and I do not like to be crowded.”
Kinnon let out his breath and took the required step back. “Aye. And I thank ye.”
She raised her eyebrows. “For what?”
“For not letting yer beast change my religion.”
* * *
Highland Escape
Copyright © 2015 Short Dog Press
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or shared in any form (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission from the author except for brief quotations for printed reviews.
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Table of Contents
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
DD’s Note to the Reader
Acknowledgements
About the Authors
Other books by Cathy MacRae
Excerpt from KINNON’S STORY
Copyright