The Bride Chooses a Highlander

by Adrienne Basso

  Joan laid the tiny hat in her lap and stretched. “Our husbands are far too clever to be caught in a trap. They are seasoned warriors with the wits and the will to best Archibald.”

  Katherine huffed and put her hand on her hip. She knew that Joan spoke the truth, but her worries would not ease. A warning horn blared and Katherine swiveled excitedly to the window.

  “Riders on the horizon!” she yelled in glee.

  Katherine lifted her skirts and ran from the solar. She paused at the bottom of the staircase and Joan nearly bumped into her, as she was following so close on Katherine’s heels.

  Katherine smiled. Apparently, Joan’s outward appearance of calm and serenity was not nearly as deep as her sister-in-law proclaimed.

  Yet all other thoughts vanished the moment Katherine entered the courtyard and saw a familiar figure riding toward her. The moment he dismounted, she threw her arms around Lachlan, laughing and sobbing at the same time.

  “Thank the Lord ye’ve returned to me,” she cried. “I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”

  “A part of me feels insulted at yer lack of conviction in my skills,” Lachlan quipped, brushing his hand along her cheek. “But a far greater part is thankful to be once again holding ye in my arms, lass.”

  His voice was tender and loving. His strength and power surrounded her causing the fears and worries of the last days to vanish. Katherine lifted her head and rained a volley of kisses along his jaw, cheeks, and lips.

  “Christ’s blood, Katherine, give the poor man a moment to catch his breath!”

  She drew back slightly and caught her father’s eye. The McKenna came forward and slapped Lachlan on the back. “I’m glad that ye’ve all returned safely. Were ye successful?”

  “Aye. Aiden was rescued, though badly injured.” A bleak cloud swept over Lachlan’s expression. “We brought him to MacTavish Keep to recover. Robbie and Lady Morag are anxious to care fer him and vow to bring him back to full health.”

  “Can they?” Katherine asked.

  A darkness settled in Lachlan’s eyes. “Aiden will live. As fer the rest, ’tis in God’s hands.”

  “We shall all pray fer his recovery,” the McKenna announced. “Come inside. Ye have much to tell us and we are eager to hear all.”

  Lady Aileen gave Malcolm, Graham, and Lachlan a quick hug and then, pulling Graham to her side, followed her husband. Malcolm, his arms wrapped tightly around Joan, fell in step beside Katherine and Lachlan.

  To ensure complete privacy, the family congregated in the McKenna’s private solar. A protesting Lileas and a wide-eyed Callum were whisked away by their nursemaid, quieting only after Malcolm promised his children a special surprise.

  “Well?” Lady Aileen asked.

  Lachlan and Malcolm exchanged a glance.

  “Archibald Fraser is dead,” Malcolm said flatly.

  Joan gasped and grabbed Malcolm’s hand. “How did he die?”

  “I pushed him out a tower window,” Lachlan replied.

  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “That sounds swift. And painless.”

  “Aye, ’twas quicker than I would have liked,” Lachlan replied. “But I can assure ye, Fraser knew what was happening. And it terrified him.”

  “Good.” Joan shuddered and placed her hand protectively over her womb. “Never again will he haunt my dreams or threaten the peace of our family.”

  “We must prepare fer a clan war,” the McKenna declared. “The Frasers will be out fer blood over their laird’s death.”

  Katherine rubbed her forehead. “’Twas Lachlan who killed him. They will seek vengeance upon the MacTavish, not the McKenna.”

  “We stand with the MacTavish,” her father said defiantly. “They are our kin.”

  Katherine blinked and a tear slid down her cheek. Hearing her father’s vow to stand with her husband was the final proof that he had fully accepted their marriage and forgiven her.

  Malcolm leaned forward. “Thanks to Lachlan’s quick thinking there will be no calls for retribution against any of us, as long as we agree to acknowledge the legitimacy of the next Fraser laird.”

  The McKenna stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Is he an honorable man?”

  Lachlan and Malcolm exchanged another look. “We have no idea. The men of the clan have yet to decide. Truthfully, whoever they pick has to be better than Archibald.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement. The room grew silent and the crackling of the fire in the hearth filled the chamber. Katherine leaned into Lachlan. All she wanted to do was to rest her head against his strong chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart.

  “Damn, in all the excitement I forgot!” The McKenna rose from his chair and rummaged through the papers scattered on his desk. “A missive was delivered fer Lachlan.”

  Katherine’s head snapped up from Lachlan’s shoulder. “When? I never saw any messengers.”

  “Aye, ’tis astonishing ye missed him considering how ye gazed out yer mother’s solar window fer days on end.” The McKenna handed Lachlan a rolled parchment. “It arrived two days ago. It bears the royal seal.”

  Heart pounding, Katherine watched Lachlan break through the wax and read the letter. He lifted his eyes from the missive and his solemn expression turned to one of amazement. “My petition to the crown to restore the MacTavish lands has been considered—and awarded.”

  “What?” Katherine snatched the parchment from her husband’s hands and quickly scanned the letter. “’Tis not the same parcel of land that once belonged to yer family, but rather a tract of property equal in size, not far from the McKenna borders.”

  All eyes turned toward the McKenna and Katherine swore she saw her father blush. “I might have expressed my preference to the crown fer having a friend rather than a foe on my eastern border.”

  “Is the property adjacent to my dower lands?” Katherine asked excitedly. “We can expand that holding and create a new home fer all the MacTavish clan.”

  Lachlan’s brow furrowed as he gazed down at the simple map drawn on the deed. “Nay, there appear to be many miles between the two.”

  “However, yer land borders my quarry.” The McKenna cleared his throat. “I propose that we exchange Katherine’s dower estate fer the quarry and several hundred acres surrounding it.”

  “’Tis hardly a fair exchange,” Katherine protested. “The dower estate produces goods that generate money fer our coffers.”

  “The quarry will provide an even better income. And I will double the amount of seed and livestock that is part of yer dowry,” the McKenna countered. “However, ye must provide me with the stones I require to make repairs to my curtain wall and castle at no charge.”

  “And ye shall sell me the material that I will need to build my castle at a very low price,” Graham interjected.

  Lachlan’s eyes lit up with interest. Katherine leaned in and whispered in her husband’s ear, “’Tis a much better offer.”

  Lachlan stood and extended his hand. “I agree. I am anxious to give my clan a better life in a more hospitable location and I find that I, too, would be pleased to have a friend rather than a foe on my border.”

  * * *

  The next day, after a vigorous morning on the training field with the McKenna brothers, Lachlan entered their bedchamber and found Katherine peering down at a large parchment unfurled on the table.

  She turned and smiled, motioning him forward. “Come and look. ’Tis the map of the new MacTavish holdings. Father had it drawn fer us. I’ve marked three different building sites we should consider fer the keep, but I’m sure there are others. The property is vast. It will take us weeks to view it all.”

  She leaned forward and Lachlan took a moment to simply stare at her, admiring the view. His lovely wife did have a most delicious arse. Unable to resist the temptation she posed, he came to her and drew his arm around her waist. Molding his chest against her back, Lachlan bent forward and began nibbling on her earlobe.

  The exh
austion and emotions he felt from the grueling pace of the past few days vanished. Holding Katherine in his arms had the power to bring forth a peace and contentment unlike any other. ’Twas a soothing balm to his soul.

  “Are ye certain ye have no regrets about giving up yer dower estate?” he asked.

  “Not a one,” she assured him, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of his hand. “We are blessed to have the good fortune of building a home fer ourselves and our clan. ’Tis where we will raise our children and grow old together.”

  “Bairns. Well, Wife, ye know what we must do if ye wish to have them.” He caressed her thigh, sliding her gown up so he could touch the tender flesh beneath.

  She wiggled suggestively against him, expelling a throaty sigh. “We must begin our search fer a master builder soon so that we can start construction the moment the ground is no longer frozen.”

  Lachlan groaned. “God’s teeth, Katherine, I’m trying to seduce ye and all ye can speak of is building a keep.”

  “Not just a keep, Lachlan. We need a moat and curtain wall, stables, mews, an alehouse, a dairy, a chapel, and many other outbuildings I’m sure.”

  “Damn, I should have bargained fer more coin from yer father,” he muttered.

  “We’ll make up the difference by charging Graham more fer his quarry stones,” Katherine said as she loosened the ties of her bodice.

  Lachlan took immediate advantage of the invitation, filling his hands with her naked breasts. “Clever, lass.”

  He made love to her then, sweet and slow, until she cried out, exploding in pleasure as his seed bathed her womb. After, as the vestiges of their passion ebbed, Lachlan held Katherine close to his heart and contemplated the years ahead of them.

  “Ye are very quiet, Lachlan.” She turned to face him, her smile lighting up his heart. “Do ye have an idea fer our new home?”

  He could feel his chest rumbling with laughter. “I have several, though I suspect most will be overruled by my headstrong wife.”

  “Well, not all of them.” She traced her finger lovingly over his face. “We’ll find our way together, Lachlan.”

  He kissed her tenderly. “Aye, lass, we will.”

  Epilogue

  Three years later

  Lachlan watched Katherine carefully make her way across the bailey, his brow furrowed with concern. She was so heavily burdened with child that he worried about her entering the great hall and climbing the stone steps to their bedchamber alone. He started toward her, then hesitated, debating the best way to approach his wife.

  She was prickly as a thistle these days. Smiling one moment, shouting the next, holding him tight, then pushing him away. The midwife insisted ’twas a sign that the babe was strong and healthy and that he need not worry.

  Lachlan could only pray that she was correct. A miscarriage the year before had left Katherine heartbroken and depressed. Though at the time she had not even known her womb had quickened with life, the subsequent loss of the child had been hard on both of them.

  Mercifully, their shared grief and the distraction of building a home had eased their sorrow and strengthened their bond. It had taken two full years to complete the main tower and thick curtain wall surrounding the modest-sized castle Lachlan had commissioned on the land granted him by the crown. They had moved in as soon as it was finished and Katherine had gradually transformed the dwelling into a comfortable, welcoming home.

  The village at the base of the castle was also nearing completion. Most of the MacTavish clan had moved south, lured by the fertile land and the chance for a better life for themselves and their children. They tilled the soil, proud to grow crops that bloomed and flourished, while others worked the quarry, earning a small wage for themselves and a steady income of coin for the clan.

  As predicted, Graham had been the quarry’s best customer. The fortress he constructed on the land given to him by the McKenna and Laird Drummond required massive amounts of stone and Graham sheepishly admitted ’twas growing to a size that could eventually rival McKenna Castle.

  Katherine insisted that her brother kept building merely as an excuse to avoid the proxy marriage he had undertaken to secure peace with the Drummond clan. For when his castle was completed, Graham would no longer have an excuse for keeping his bride languishing in a convent. He would be obliged to bring her home and begin their marriage in truth.

  A fact that Hamish Drummond loudly mentioned to Graham—and all the McKennas—at every opportunity.

  Robbie had taken charge of the quarry and shown an interest in learning the building trade. He had demonstrated a true talent for the task, proving himself to be a tremendous asset. In thanks, Lachlan had given his brother his own cottage.

  Filled with confidence, purpose, and self-worth, Robbie had finally persuaded the lovely Glynnis to marry him. He had brought her parents to live in a cottage next to theirs, so his bride could continue to care for her mother. ’Twas an arrangement that suited them well and the young couple seemed very happy.

  Lachlan’s garrison had swelled in numbers; the many soldiers were housed comfortably in a large barracks designed by Robbie and constructed in the inner courtyard. Lachlan trained his men hard, confident in their fighting skills, knowing they would be ready if they were called into service by the crown.

  Not all the MacTavish clan had moved here, though. Aiden and a few of his loyal men had elected to stay in the north. He had recovered from his injuries, though he walked with a slight limp that became more pronounced when the weather was especially damp. At his mother’s suggestion, he also grew his hair longer on the left side to compensate for what was missing on the right.

  Aiden had pledged his loyalty and sword to Lachlan as the MacTavish laird in a public ceremony with uncharacteristic humility and sincerity. Though Lachlan prayed often that he would never have a need, he was confident that if he called upon his brother, Aiden would willingly fight at his side.

  Lady Morag had decided to remain in the north with Aiden during the warmer months of the year, but she spent the late fall, winter, and early spring with Lachlan and Katherine. Lady Morag wrote often, expressing her desire to visit as soon as her first grandchild arrived no matter what the weather.

  A grandchild. His child.

  An unmistakable emotion tugged at Lachlan’s heart, tightening his throat and squeezing his chest until he could hardly take a breath. Enduring Katherine’s pregnancy had put his patience to the most extreme test. He had worried daily over her health and that of the child, constantly battling his fears.

  Far too many women—and their babes—perished in childbirth. If anything happened to her . . . he shook his head sharply, unable to even consider the thought.

  “Ye should be off yer feet, Katherine,” he called to her as he crossed the bailey, drawing near his waddling wife.

  “Cease fussing at me,” she snapped, swatting his hand away. Then suddenly she sighed, lowering her head in contrition. “Och, my tongue seems to have a will of its own these days. A nasty one, too. I dinnae know how ye can endure my company.”

  “I love ye, Katherine, with all my heart.”

  The soft expression in her eyes lasted only for a moment and then the tears started. “This has been torturous fer ye, Lachlan. Admit it. No man can gladly suffer a wife so ruled by her emotions that her mood changes with the hour. Ye must be counting the minutes until it ends.”

  “If ye are asking me if I’m happy that our child will soon be born, then I’ll say aye,” Lachlan answered.

  Katherine fisted her hand on the small of her aching back and frowned. Oh, how she wished she could be more agreeable! But she was unable to sleep for more than an hour at a time, her bladder always felt full, and her feet were so swollen she hobbled more than she walked.

  Frustratingly, her emotions were beyond her control and she marveled constantly that Lachlan never ceased to be anything but kind, patient, and loving toward her.

  He held her arm and she leaned heavily upon him as they climbe
d the stairs to their bedchamber. Once there, she allowed Lachlan to assist her into bed. The brief slumber she achieved was soon interrupted by a sharp, constant pain that spread across her entire back. The midwife was summoned and a messenger rode hard to McKenna Castle to fetch her mother.

  And thus Katherine’s long struggle to bring her child into the world began. Her labor lasted well into the next day, but the sound of her child’s lusty cries chased away Katherine’s exhaustion.

  Tears filled Katherine’s eyes as she accepted the small, squirming bundle from her mother. Lady Aileen’s eyes misted too. She placed her arms around Katherine and her newest grandchild and recited a prayer of joy and thanks.

  Cradling the babe close to her breast, Katherine called for Lachlan. He appeared almost immediately, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep—and possibly several drams of whiskey—his hair rumpled, his jaw covered with dark stubble.

  Lady Aileen shooed the midwife and the other women from the chamber, casting a happy smile upon the new family as she shut the door behind her.

  “Come and meet yer daughter,” Katherine said.

  She placed the infant on her lap and carefully unwrapped the swaddling. Lachlan leaned closer and the two marveled over the babe’s tiny features. Her sweet, delicate face and rosebud mouth, her small, perfectly shaped limbs and the tuffs of downy hair covering her head.

  “She’s so tiny,” Lachlan whispered, brushing Katherine’s cheek with his lips. “So perfect.”

  He set his finger against the bairn’s palm and the wee one gripped it tightly. Seeing the two joined hands—one so new and delicate, the other hard and battle-scared—brought a fresh batch of tears to Katherine’s eyes.

  Lachlan was going to be a wonderful father—kind, loving, caring. A true protector, who would give his life to keep them all safe.

  “Some men would be disappointed to have a female fer a firstborn child,” Katherine ventured, voicing a nagging fear.

  “Witless fools.” Lachlan tickled the infant’s chin with the tip of his nose. “She is the most amazing creature ever born. My heart is near to bursting with love fer her—and her mother.”