The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  News of her disappearance would harm her family the most. Her grandmother would be affected most of all, if she continued to be sick. Elspeth shuddered at the thought.

  It had to be mid-morning by now as she’d felt the progression of the sun since rising across her face while trying to figure out what direction they were headed.

  “Can ye walk?” the man beside her asked.

  “Aye,” she replied slowly. “Why?”

  Instead of a reply, he whistled and the wagon came to a stop.

  “Off ye go then,” the man, Sean, said, untying her wrists and removing her blindfold.

  He climbed down and took her around the waist as Elspeth struggled to keep the blanket around her body.

  Sean set Elspeth on her feet and gave her a gentle nudge. “Be with care, there are brambles about.”

  She stood dumbstruck as he jumped back onto the wagon and they left.

  “Wait, where am I?” she called out, but they did not reply. Elspeth turned and her mouth fell open. She was outside her village.

  This had to be the most bizarre abduction ever. She hurried toward her house, hoping her family had not left for the ceremony yet. However, guessing by the position of the sun, they were probably already at the keep.

  She hurried inside the house, letting out a sigh of relief at the familiarity of it all. It seemed as if she’d been gone for so long and yet only a few days had passed.

  Once inside her small bedchamber, she quickly dressed and yanked a comb through her hair. She’d have to find a horse so that she could return to the keep at once.

  Although her stomach growled in protest, she ignored the food on the table. There wasn’t time. Elspeth rushed out the front door and to the right. Ceilidh lived just a few yards away. Hopefully, her friend had not gone with her family and planned to go later.

  When Ceilidh opened the door, her mouth fell open and her eyes popped just as wide. “What are ye doing here? Did ye run away from the wedding?”

  “Nay,” Elspeth replied. “I need to return to Ross Keep immediately.”

  Her friend looked past her. “Why did ye not go with yer family?”

  Taking her friend’s arm, Elspeth yanked Ceilidh out. “I do not have time to explain. Can we take yer horse?”

  “Who is it?” Ceilidh’s mother came to the door and duplicated the same look as her daughter’s. “What are ye doing here? Yer mother is headed to Ross Keep. I just left from yer house a bit ago.”

  “I need a horse. I must go there now. Can ye allow Ceilidh and I to go now please?” Elspeth was on the verge of crying. How could things turn into such a mess?

  The older woman waved her hand dismissively. “Nay, twill not do for two lasses to be out alone during times like these. Let me ask Fergus to go with ye.” The woman came out and hurried toward the carpentry shop where her husband worked. Having no choice, both Ceilidh and Elspeth followed.

  Like Ceilidh’s mother, her father was kind and caring. The man had nary an unfriendly bone in his body. When he frowned in their direction and shook his head, Elspeth started to cry.

  “I’ll go alone then,” she said, stalking back toward her house.

  “Wait,” Ceilidh said, running after her. “Tis not that Da didn’t wish ye to go. Tis that his horse is at my brother’s house.”

  At a loss, Elspeth stopped in front of her house and scanned the houses. “Surely there is someone who would allow me to borrow a horse.”

  “I have an idea,” Ceilidh said, taking her hand. “Hurry, before my mother comes looking for me.”

  They raced across the dirt road and in between two cottages. Finally, Ceilidh stopped behind the tavern. “We can take Eagan’s cart and horse. He won’t mind.”

  The tavern owner’s son swore to marry Ceilidh every time he saw her. As if beckoned, he appeared around the corner and his face lit up.

  “What are ye two doing here?”

  They explained to him the urgency of the matter and, to Elspeth’s delight, not only did he agree to allow them use of his horse and wagon, but he also volunteered to guide the horse.

  Within moments, the trio was on their way. Along with cider and tarts that Ceilidh’s mother insisted they take.

  The Ross messenger sat at a table looking particularly uncomfortable as McLeod guardsmen surrounded him. Unlike the messenger they’d last sent, he would return unharmed with a response.

  “How can we agree to a truce? They imprisoned ye.” Ethan’s face was twisted in a snarl. “We should skin their messenger and send back portions of what’s left.”

  Remaining quiet, Alec studied his brother and waited for their father to speak.

  The laird scowled at Ethan. “Ye should not have an opinion,” he snapped. “Alec went there of his own free will. If one of them came here, we would do the same and throw the person in the dungeon.”

  Ethan dropped into a chair and crossed his arms. “No truce.”

  Laird McLeod ignored his youngest son. “Tis for the best that we agree to meet with the man who comes representing Clan Ross. He is the advisor and was once a trusted right hand to the now dead laird.”

  “We must bargain for Paige’s release,” Alec said. “She cannot continue there as a prisoner.”

  His father pressed fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Again, she went there voluntarily. I am not sure what she hoped to gain in going to ask for a truce without any kind of guard or missive.”

  “A bargain.” Alec would not drop the subject. Truce or not, Paige would not remain in the Ross’ hands.

  “Go speak to the messenger,” his father said as he signed a parchment, folded it and after pouring wax, sealed it with his signet ring. “Ye may have him ask about the girl, but it is not to be written. Twas yer choice to associate yerself with that village girl.”

  Alec followed the messenger out, already formulating how best to word his request.

  He refused to consider that she was lost to him. It wasn’t inconceivable for a clan to give a woman prisoner to a member of the clan to claim as his own. Especially a woman who went to them of her own volition. Paige was beautiful so it would not be hard to find her a willing husband.

  Alec pushed the thoughts away as it made him want to rush to the closest horse and return to Ross lands. This time, the clan would not be as accommodating if he reappeared. Besides, there wasn’t anything a single man could do against many.

  Walking out with the messenger and escorting the man to his horse, Alec met his gaze. “Tell Laird Ross that I ask as a function of good will that he release the woman, Paige, back to me.”

  The man seemed to understand the underlying reason and nodded. “I will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Verity ran a comb absently through her long, wavy hair while sitting in front of her looking glass. Hollow brown eyes looked back as she studied her reflection. With a round face and thin lips, she’d been cursed by inheriting her mother’s looks and not her handsome father’s. Unlike her brothers, she was never called fair of face. Why hadn’t she been born male and inherited the gift of her father’s features?

  Not that she hated her mother. Quite the contrary, she’d withstood her presence over that of her father, who seemed to find fault in everything she did.

  Just months before his death, he’d finally deemed her worthy and tried to speak to her, ask her about her day. But she didn’t have the time for him; it was too late for a bond between them. Now it seemed Malcolm was much too absorbed in his battles and revenge to care what happened to her.

  “I wondered why ye were not at first meal,” Aiden said, startling her. He walked to where she sat, stopping just behind her. His hazel eyes met hers in the looking glass. “Ye should be downstairs. There is much to see.”

  “No doubt in part to yer doing.”

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he picked up a strand of her damp hair and studied it for a long moment. “Ye should thank me. It leaves ye free to do as ye wish for a few hours at least.”

  A shi
ver of awareness trickled down from her neck. It was as if he touched her skin and not just the lock of hair. “We will be caught one day.” But her gaze moved to the bed as if on its own accord.

  Taking her by the shoulders, Aiden pulled her to stand, his gaze glued to hers in the mirror. “I do not wish to go to the bed,” he whispered, placing his lips just below her ear. “I want to watch ye come undone by my touch alone.”

  The warmth of his mouth at her neck made her eyelids drop.

  “Open yer eyes, Verity,” he commanded. “Or I will stop.”

  She made sure to open them wide, watching with interest as his hands pulled up her chemise, displaying her pale legs and stomach. The way his hands slid up and down her inner thighs seemed surreal. The hitch in his breath, as he too watched, made her tremble.

  He pulled the chemise higher and draped it over her shoulder, her entire body now on full display. “I like yer breasts,” Aiden said, cupping them with his large hands while circling the pink tips with his thumbs.

  Verity whimpered, heat pooling in her core, she needed more than just his touch. And yet this particular game was always the same. He brought her to completion with only his hands. Never kissing her on the mouth and never ever disrobing himself.

  Finally, as she was about to plead, unable to withstand it any longer, Aiden chuckled. “Touch yerself. Take care of it.”

  She did as he asked, hand sliding between her legs, fingers teasing at her core. The release was almost immediate and she bit her lips to keep from crying out.

  The entire time, he held her shoulders and watched, his eyes now darkened, lips parted and breathing hard. A lock of dark hair fell over his brow and she considered brushing it back. He would not allow it, of course, so she pushed the thought away.

  His disinterest was almost immediate. Aiden strode to the window. “I suggest ye dress and go downstairs. Ye will be delighted at the turn of events.”

  “My brother celebrates a wedding, while I’m not allowed to find a husband. Why should that delight me in any way?” Verity had already pulled her chemise down and was once again seated and combing her hair. Her entire body hummed, needing more, but she’d be damned if Aiden would know. He needed more, she knew for a fact that after every encounter like this one, he bedded the first maid that he came in contact with.

  “It seems the bride is missing,” Aiden said in an amused tone. “Perhaps she ran away, or perhaps taken. Who is to know?”

  She whirled to look at him. “It was ye.”

  With a lazy shrug, her cousin went to the door. “Why would I bother with trivial things like that?”

  “Because ye hate Malcolm. Ye hate all of us. Why do ye even come here to my chamber?”

  His lips curved, the smile not reaching his flat gaze. “Because ye cede to me every time.” With a chuckle, he opened the door and walked out.

  Verity cursed. This would be the last time.

  The door opened and Paige looked up from the mending she was doing. She’d asked for something to do to pass the time. Days were beginning to blend together even though she hadn’t been there more than four or was it maybe five?

  Upon a tall, dark-haired man entering, she stood and backed up. Immediately, she didn’t like him. “Who are ye? What do ye want?”

  “I am Aiden Ross, cousin to the laird. I heard ye were a wee bit bored.” He didn’t move closer, but his gaze traveled from her face down her body, making it seem as if he was much too near.

  Paige hitched her chin in an attempt not to look intimidated although her heart pounded. “I am not bored, I have mending to do. I am waiting to speak to the laird once again.”

  “He is much too busy for ye. What is it ye wish to say?”

  Although she doubted this man had any influence on Laird Ross, it was best to keep talking. The servant was due to return and bring her more mending. Paige prayed it would be soon. “Would ye please ask the laird to consider releasing me? I hold no value to the McLeods. I am but a simple village woman.”

  “And yet ye came as a messenger?”

  “Nay. I came to ask for peace. My brother died when he came with a missive. I didn’t wish anyone else to die.”

  “Especially not Alec McLeod?” His lips curved. “I do believe ye are important to him.”

  She took another step backward, the back of her leg hitting the small cot. It was a mistake to trust this man. Paige considered screaming, but he’d not done anything to threaten her safety. Not yet.

  “I do know Alec McLeod, but have only met him briefly.”

  “Hmm.” He rubbed his chin and moved closer. Cupping her chin, he lifted her face up. “What does he see in ye? Did ye know he came to barter for ye? Ended up in the dungeon.”

  Her eyes rounded. “Ye lie.”

  “Now, now. Ye do not want to insult yer hosts. I do not lie. He was here.”

  “Was?” If she’d been the cause of his death, she would never be able to live with herself.

  “Escaped,” he said, studying her for a reaction. “Seems someone let him out.”

  Despite herself, she let out a shaky breath. “It was solely my idea alone to come here.”

  “Yes, but ye care for him. I think…” he paused, his gaze moving to her mouth. “Ye owe me payment for allowing his escape.”

  Paige had a hard time swallowing past the dryness of her throat. “I will not.”

  “Ye seem to think I am giving ye a choice in this matter.” Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her, dragged her closer to the small cot and then pushed her head down so that she was bent at the waist.

  “Let me go!” Paige struggled, kicking and flaying her arms in an attempt to hit him. He was much bigger than she was, his arms like vises pinning her arms to her sides.

  “Be a good lass and allow it.” His words came out guttural, his breathing harsh. “Stop fighting, ye will not win.”

  Paige let out a scream and it seemed to stun him. There were footsteps out in the hallway and the sound of male voices. Aiden shoved her away until she fell onto the floor on all fours, hair covering her face.

  “What happened?” someone asked as she scrambled from the floor to the cot. Paige pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them.

  “I do not know,” Aiden replied. “I was walking by and noticed the door was open. I looked inside and she screamed. Must be touched in the head.”

  The guard didn’t look convinced. He looked at her and she tried to convey to him what had actually occurred.

  “I will remain outside the door until she calms,” the guard told Aiden who glared in her direction.

  “Very well. Tis a waste of time being there is much to do today.” He stalked off and Paige worried for whoever he would take his frustration out upon.

  “Are ye well, Miss?” the guard, a young man, asked.

  Paige nodded, knowing very well the guard would not stand up to a Ross in her defense. He’d already taken a big chance by even stating he’d remain.

  “Thank ye.” Paige couldn’t help the tears that flowed as she remained on the cot, thankful for the young guard at her door.

  A whimpering maid hobbled out of his bedchamber and, still, Aiden wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more, needed more. Perhaps he’d return to Verity’s chamber and take her this time.

  He went to the window and noticed the guards were lining up. It was time for their daily reporting to Kieran and Tristan. His self-important cousins who would spew some useless nonsense meant to motivate them and then divide them for sword practice and such.

  Pushing away, he cursed and turned to the doorway. A male servant entered, the male’s eyes moving to him before going to the fireplace to place wood in a neat pile next to it.

  “Where is my cousin, Malcolm?”

  “In the great room, Sir. He is speaking with visitors.” The young man waited for any other instructions.

  “Is my father present as well?”

  “Aye, he is.”

  “That will be all.”

  O
f course his father was there. Forever the lap dog waiting for the next bone tossed to him by Malcolm. Aiden wanted to throw up when his stomach lurched at the idea that he was expected to follow suit.

  Deciding it was best to ensure that no one considered him a suspect in Alec’s escape, he adjusted his clothing and walked out.

  It lifted his spirits to find Malcolm being confronted by the parents of his not to be wife.

  Aiden strode into the great room and sat upon the high board. He motioned for a servant to bring him ale. The situation was worthy of a drink.

  His lips curved as he focused on the interaction.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Ye will find my daughter. I do not care if it takes every guard. Not only are ye telling me she was taken and injured, but that, once again, she is missing?”

  The huge blacksmith was beyond addressing him as “Laird”, nor did the man seem to care that armed guards surrounded him.

  Malcolm had to admit the combined presence of the blacksmith and his equally muscular older son would make most of the guardsmen hesitate before attempting to restrain either one.

  He looked to the lead guard to ensure that the man remain back. “I was as shocked as ye are when I was informed. I assure ye, we have sent men out to search.”

  “I saw about four leave this morn,” his damned cousin piped up. “They will find her.”

  “Four?” The blacksmith bellowed. “Four?” He inhaled sharply and every guard leaned forward in expectation. “I can beat four with my bare hands.” As if to prove it, he pounded a fist on the closest table. The cracking sound of wood guaranteed his point was made.

  Malcolm let out a breath. “What if she left of her own accord?”

  “She would have been home by now.” Elspeth’s brother spoke this time. “Elspeth knows the forest better than most. She spends many hours gathering herbs and can make her way.”

  Instantly, the memory of the day she’d thrown a branch at him at the loch’s edge came to mind. Malcolm nodded. “I am aware.”