Highlander’s Veiled Bride: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Highland Seductresses Book 2)

by Shona Thompson

  Such a sour and unpleasant man.

  She heard the sound of horses and peeked out through the carriage window to see the Scots riding off. She sneered at their retreating forms, wondering who they were. She had seen their colors, and they were undoubtedly men from the Mackenzie clan. She hoped that they were not all like that, although she wasted no time in putting that man in his place.

  His face flashed in her mind again, and she leaned back in her seat as her heart pounded. Despite his horrible demeanor, he was quite handsome. She wondered if the Laird would be as attractive. The carriage began to move again, and she finally noticed the small smile on Mary's face.

  "What is it?" she asked, eyeing her governess out of the corner of her eye. Mary smiled wider.

  "That was very eloquent. You put that man in his place quite well and also dismissed him. That was truly ladylike," she praised, causing Jane's brow to rise.

  "Well, thank you, Mary, it is a product of your tutelage," Jane said, praising Mary in turn and allowing them to fall into a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride.

  Mary was to educate the children that Jane would eventually bear as well as keep her company. She had known Mary her whole life and felt the woman was something of a mother to her. Jane did not even remember her own mother, who had died when she was young, so all she knew was the governess. Although Mary could be strict and taciturn, she still gave Jane a feeling of warmth with her presence.

  They arrived at the castle in the late afternoon, and Jane took a few deep breaths to calm herself while the footman opened the carriage doors for her. She glanced at Mary, finding strength in the gray eyes of her governess and lifted herself out of the carriage with all the grace she could muster.

  She came face to face with her betrothed for the first time. He gave her a smile that seemed bittersweet and a bowed, taking her fingers and kissing them.

  "Welcome to the Mackenzie clan castle, Miss Baxendale. I am William Abernethy, the Laird, and I am pleased to meet me betrothed."

  He was a very handsome man, Jane noted. His hair was blonde and looked softer than silk, the way it was tied loosely from his face, and his eyes were hazel with golden specs when the light hit them at a certain angle. He looked like an angel but did not make her breath stop as it had with the rude Scot. She bit back a confused frown and, instead, gave him a deep curtsy and smiled.

  "It is an even greater pleasure to meet you, my Laird," she answered as she straightened back up. For a few seconds, they exchanged pleasant smiles and looked each other over, before the maids appeared to retrieve her things.

  "Ye will be taken to yer chambers, and the maids will help ye settle in. I ken I should take ye around meself, but please, bear with me. Today is the day of the feast fer the Clan Mackenzie's one-hundredth anniversary to power," he explained.

  Jane nodded in understanding even before he finished. "Oh," she said.

  "Aye, 'tis a busy day fer the clan and me. I'm sorry to make this meetin' after yer arrival so rushed. I will dae me best to make it up to ye another time," William added. Jane was already nodding in agreement.

  "Certainly, certainly, I understand, of course, please do not worry about me. Thank you for your hospitality. I will see you at the feast."

  He gave her another polite smile, and she returned it before following the maids with Mary. He meant no harm and seemed to be a genuinely pleasant and gentle person, but she could not help feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome as she was ushered into a lavish chamber as the maids fussed and arranged her things.

  It seemed he did not take to her, just as she did not take to him. If he had found her exciting, he certainly would have wanted to spend more time with her, regardless of what he had to do. More importantly, she would have wanted to spend more time with him if attracted to him, but she was not. If their first meeting was anything to go by, their marriage would be one of mutual respect and perhaps even friendship.

  Mary was expertly directing the maids while Jane lost herself in thoughts. All she wanted was to take a long and relaxing bath to prepare herself mentally for the feast ahead. If she could, she would try to figure out why she felt no attraction for her betrothed. He certainly looked like an angel, but instead, she had been attracted to the rude devil she had met on the way.

  Chapter Two

  Alastair Bain adjusted the sash over his coat more violently than was necessary, his fingers moving according to the level of his irritation, taking it out on his clothing.

  "This bloody thing willnae stay put!" he muttered darkly, all but ready to rip the cloth in half.

  His fingers began digging into the cloth to tear it when Lain Darrow stepped in. Lain pried his fingers from the sash and helped him arrange it.

  Lain was heir to the recently deceased Head Advisor of the clan and a close friend of Alistair.

  "There, there, calm yerself now. Ye dinnae have to take out yer frustrations on yer poor garments," Lain said, his voice teasing as always.

  Alastair rolled his eyes at his ever playful friend in mild annoyance. Lain was right; he was taking out his frustrations on his clothing, but he did not care. Of course, he was upset. It was supposed to be a merry day for the clan Mackenzie, but it had started horribly.

  He had been returning that morning from the outskirt villages of the clan where two attacks from unknown raiders had taken place, killing young men and attacking the farms. Word had been sent to the castle, and he had gone to investigate with two of his men. It had been slightly worrisome, but he had already decided to solve it by requesting that William send a few extra soldiers to defend the border villages.

  The first tragedy had struck on the way when he and his men suddenly found themselves surrounded by an ambush of twenty bandits. He would have won, he knew, although he would not leave the skirmish unscathed. He had already been cursing in his head because, not only would he arrive late to the castle due to riding with injury, he would also be unable to attend the feast, even if he made it on time since William would force him to stay with the healer.

  He had already been resigned to his fate, but then things had become more annoying. An English party appeared out of nowhere and began to help him. He would have been glad if it had been anyone else but the English. Looking at the prideful face of the head guard after he disarmed the last bandit, Alastair had lost control and snapped when the English guard had the guts to refer to him as a 'comrade.'

  He glowered at the memory. As though he could ever be comrades with the English. Their cruelty knew no bounds. The main carriage in the party had drawn close, and the last thing Alastair had expected was for its owner to be a lady, and a stunning one at that. Perhaps the fact that he had been expecting a fat old Lord made it all the more shocking; her beauty had hit him like lightning.

  Her auburn hair caught his attention, blazing with red highlights when the sun was upon it. She had exited the carriage with so much grace, and he felt as though he stood before a queen. Her lips were full, and her neck was slender beneath her diamond-shaped face with cheekbones like cut-glass. Her green eyes were as beautiful as emeralds, and as she met his gaze, they were aflame with rage.

  He had caught himself then, realizing that he was admiring an English woman. His anger at that moment had mostly been against himself, but he glared at her instead. What was wrong with him, thinking such things of the English? He was thrown off guard and incensed by his weakness. He was even more shocked when she did not cower but instead dealt him a harsh verbal blow.

  It was even worse when she dismissed him as though he were but a child with no manners. His pride was smarting from the road to the castle. It continued to sting as he made his way to his chambers to wash, and it still had not stopped smarting now as he stood with Lain, getting dressed for the feast.

  Lain smoothed out his outfit once more before stepping back before the mirror.

  "See? Ye look almost as good as me now," Lain preened.

  Rolling his eyes, Alastair gave his friend an unamused look
to which Lain only laughed. He glanced at their reflections in the huge mirror. He had allowed Lain to brush his hair after he bathed. That was as far as he would go to tame his locks, feast or not. With his hair back, his features stood out, and he frowned slightly. He looked almost like Lain, who the women flocked around; the only difference was his permanent scowl.

  Lain was playful and possibly the biggest flirt in all of Scotland. His jet black hair was slick to his head, making his stark blue eyes catch attention from a mile away. By some sorcery, he managed to look both boyishly handsome and manly at the same time. William always joked that out of the three of them, Lain would attract women even in his old age.

  "Ah, Alastair, me friend, being dressed by me hands today, ye just might get a woman in yer bed tonight," Lain said.

  Alastair gave him a sigh. "Ye should be aware that I am now considerin' bundlin’ ye out of me window,” he threatened.

  Lain guffawed, running out of the room hastily and allowing him to follow at his own pace as they headed for the feast. Just might get a woman in his bed? For some reason, Alastair could only picture the beautiful English woman telling him off for his rudeness. He shook his head.

  It seems I’m goin’ mad. Perhaps I need some rest.

  He came into the hall and found it already full of people. As expected, Lain was already surrounded by a flock of women. He rolled his eyes and searched for William’s blonde head amid the darker colors. It was always easy to spot William in a crowd as blondes were rare in the Highlands. It also helped that he was quite tall.

  Finding him standing with two other Lairds in alliance with the clan, he made his way through the crowd to his best friend. He put his hand on William’s shoulder and made his presence known. William’s naturally soft gaze visibly lighted up with recognition as he looked to his friend.

  “Ah, Alastair, ye have returned! I worried that ye wouldnae make it in time. When did ye leave the border villages?” William asked, lowering his voice at the last sentence.

  “I only returned in the late afternoon; I left them this mornin’. Ye were nae in yer office, so I left me report and went to begin preparations fer the feast,” he responded.

  Ending their exchange, he turned to include the other two in their conversation: the Laird of Lenord and the Laird of Ephimer. Alastair extended his hand for the allies to shake.

  “It is good to see ye Laird Balfour, Laird Cargill. Always a pleasure to have ye on our lands,” he said.

  The two Lairds smiled broadly, shaking his hand enthusiastically as they returned his greeting.

  “It is always a pleasure to be on yer lands, Mr. Bain. We had been wonderin’ when ye would join the feast. It seems ye were on some special errands for yer Laird William here, eh?” Balfour said with a friendly laugh. Alastair smiled politely, neither confirming nor denying Balfour’s words.

  “We always say how lucky William is to have such a trusted man on his side, ye ken. Ye are a Laird’s true right hand, and if I had one like ye, I would have nay troubles handlin’ Ephimer,” Cargill joined the praise.

  Alastair gave a nervous laugh. At this point, he was feeling uncomfortable as he did not enjoy the conversation being centered around him, preferring to be in the background. William, knowing this, made efforts to leave the conversation.

  “It’s so nice seein’ ye gentlemen, please get drunk tonight, the wine is abundant,” William said, smiling pleasantly. The other Lairds laughed rather boisterously, obviously satisfied with their plans for the evening ahead.

  “Aye, aye! We shall drink ye dry today, Abernethy!” Cargill said, already headed for the wine.

  “Remember that ye asked us to drink and dinnae complain if ye run out of wine early!” Balfour joked, joining his friend in search of wine.

  William looked slightly amused as he watched them go before turning to Alastair.

  “Tis a good thing they’re so easy to appease, aye?” he chuckled before moving on to more pressing matters. “How bad was the situation at the border villages? As bad as it said in the distress letter?”

  Alastair felt his expression turn serious as he remembered the grass covered in blood and the bodies he’d helped to bury in the border villages. It felt strange how he’d been part of the grief and loss a mere day ago, and now he was back at the castle where everything seemed alright.

  “Aye, me friend, it was indeed bad. Many young men were slaughtered in those villages. It seemed they just wanted the young men. Or perhaps those lads were the ones who resisted and paid for it with their lives. I took more time helping than I expected, which was why I only headed home this morning.”

  His friend looked deeply disturbed as he considered this. William was a good Laird and cared deeply for his people. He hoped that he would be able to shrug off his sadness at the news of the attacks and not go about the rest of the feast gloomily. While they had run into some ill-timed trouble, the feast of celebration was necessary. The clan had been in power for a hundred years, and five of those had been under William’s prosperous rule.

  “Dinnae despair me friend. The people have suffered a loss, but their spirit is nae broken. They were preparing to celebrate as well just this mornin’ before I left. Despite the losses, they are still strong, as they ken their Laird will protect them,” he assured his friend. William gave him a weak smile and tapped his shoulder.

  Alastair worried, for William always looked like a tired lamb when he looked into his eyes. He was as calm and pleasant as ever, but there was a sadness that he had not seen for a long time, and he did not like it. He pointed it out to Lain, and even Lain had seen it, although he had immediately joked about how he should spend less time looking into William’s eyes, he knew that Lain worried too.

  “Ye saw the situation with yer own eyes. What dae ye suggest I dae to help?” William asked him.

  “Send a few more of our soldiers down to the border villages. There is only one outpost there since these villagers only produce enough to care for themselves, and nayone attacked them before.” Alastair added.

  William nodded his agreement as Alastair considered how unsafe it was in the border villages. They were small and peaceful, and no one thought to attack them, so they were not rigorously guarded by the clan. They were barely taxed since they could only sustain themselves and nothing more. It was not expected that raiders would suddenly take an interest in slaughtering these people.

  “The security in those parts is really lackin’, me friend. On the way back, me and me men were ambushed by a band of twenty bandits just as we left the border villages to take the road into the clan.”.

  William’s eyes widened, and his grip tightened as he searched his friend for signs of injury.

  “What?! Ye are nae injured are ye? By the gods, why are ye just tellin’ me this now? Dae ye need to see a healer?”

  Alastair sighed, knowing that his friend would react that way and tried to calm him before he was carted out of the feast to a healer.

  “Relax, William, I am alright. I hate to say it, but we were saved by an English party that was passin’ by. The English helped us take them down without issue,” he added darkly.

  “Oh, nay…” William said, holding his hand to his head, “ye were awful to them, were ye nae?”

  Alastair frowned defensively.

  “Me? Awful? I will tell ye there was this horrible English witch…” he began, only for his words to dry on his tongue as he caught sight of the very woman.

  Chapter Three

  Jane stood stiffly in the corner of the large hall watching the feast. Mary had not accompanied her, and she sorely regretted it. She felt like an outsider with everyone talking and laughing around her, while she knew no one in the crowd. She picked a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant to keep her hand busy.

  After the room had been arranged, Mary had taken the maids to assist her in the arrangement of her own room. Jane had taken that opportunity to bathe and had Mary help her to dress for the feast. The dress she wore was
one of her most elegant with its low neckline and pretty lace frills. She had combed out her hair to fall over her shoulders, making her milky skin more pronounced. She had wanted to look good to feel more confident, but now she was not sure if it was the right choice since people kept glancing her way, although they did not speak to her. It was somewhat unnerving.

  I should have asked Mary to come with me, at least I would have had someone to talk to.

  She frowned against the cup at her lips as she took a sip. Mary had been tired, so she was probably taking a nap. She emptied her glass in one go and dropped it on the tray of another passing servant. Suddenly she froze as her eyes caught a pair of familiar brown ones. Her jaw dropped, and his expression mirrored hers.