The Highlander's Captured Bride (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

by Eloise Madigan

  “Very much,” he said. “She kept the boy calm throughout the whole day.” His father’s eyebrows were near his hairline, a clear prod for Ethan to keep going but he had nothing more to offer. He kept silent and eventually earned a low chuckle from his sire.

  “So ye expect me to pretend that through all the days ye’ve been riding out, the trip to the loch and how Callum found ye at the stables that morn, that there is nothing more to yer friendship than, well, friendship?” Dark green eyes glimmered. “I was yer age once, son, remember that.”

  Backed into a corner, he refrained from cursing in front of his father. “All right…” he raked his hand through his hair, hoping he would not get upbraided for his actions. “We’ve kissed.”

  “Once….twice…?”

  “Faither, please!” Ethan grumbled. “This is nay the sort of thing I would ever feel comfortable talking to ye about. I’d rather go to Fin—” his mouth clicked shut so quickly he nearly bit his tongue.

  The playful air they had between them had vanished like smoke and the harsh reality that his brother—the one he would go to in matters like this—was forever gone, had a lead ball of emotion sinking in his stomach. His face twisted to the window as he swallowed over the hard lump in his throat.

  His unwitting words had dropped another brick on top of the load he and his father were already carrying. When the stillness grew stifling, he turned back and shook his head. “Pardon me, that was unwise.”

  “Aye,” was his reply. “But one day we’re going to have to accept that he is gone.”

  “I wish I hadnae had to accept it at all,” Ethan grimaced. “I’ll leave ye to it, Faither. Er… would ye like me to be there when ye speak to Laird Russell?”

  “Nay, if ye’re there he might feel fenced in,” his father replied. “I’ll take care of it alone.”

  Standing he nodded, “Good night Faither…and thank ye for nay taking me actions with Miss O’Cain for, well, what is isnae.”

  “Just tread carefully, son,” was his warning, “Women like her are hard to find and harder to win back if ye lose them.”

  Isnae that the truth….

  “Aye,” he said slipping through the door, knowing he had a long, hard night ahead thinking about what exactly he was doing with Violet ahead of him. He had already vowed not to break her heart…but could he live up to that oath?

  17

  Stepping out of her room the next morning, Violet had to draw back at the man standing at her door, his stone-face immediately marking him a soldier, if the hand resting on his sword did not make it clearer.

  “Oh,” she stepped back, “Erm…good morning?”

  He dipped his head, “Morning, Miss O’Cain. I’m Killian MacTyre. Laird MacFerson has sent me to guard ye, in light of his…concerns.”

  Peeking down the corridor, she did not spot any other solider so asked. “Am I the only one?”

  “Nay, Miss,” he shook his head. “But since ye and yer faither’s rooms are so close, it made sense for me to watch ye both. Yer faither left to me Laird’s study early this morning, just after dawn I believe.”

  His words gave her the impression that the whole castle was on lockdown. Was Ethan under guard as well? Were they allowed to step a foot out of the castle?

  “I understand,” she hedged. “Is it…are ye just stationed at me door at night or are ye—”

  Mister MacTyre laughed, well, chuckled. “Nay, Miss, we’re nae told to shadow ye wherever ye go, but it is recommended that ye dinnae stray far from the castle grounds or the village.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she nodded, “Well, thank ye. I dae appreciate it.”

  “We just need ye to be safe, Miss,” he replied.

  She was about to turn and leave but spun back. Maybe she shouldn’t be doing this behind Ethan’s back, but she felt he was heavily reticent when she had asked him last night. “Master MacFerson, why did he part from the squadron?”

  “For years he was between here and Glasgow,” Mister MacTyre explained. “Laird MacFerson sent him off to get higher learning at the university there, he just couldnae keep up, shuffling back and forth. One summer he stayed at the city and then we heard, by word of mouth, that he was about to get married.”

  A numbing chill ran over her body like waves in the ocean, and when she dared speak her words were still, “Oh.”

  The soldier shrugged. “As far as I remember, she was a daughter of some Baron, and one of the handmaids of the Queen. Very polished and pretty, I assume. But then he came back home and said nothing of it. I could only assume if such things were right, she had broken his heart.”

  Emotions had started to twist inside her stomach from the moment she had heard the word marriage and had grown harder when the woman was revealed to be a woman of position. Now that the hammer had dropped, the reason he had shied away from her elaborating about the fighting forces was…the woman might have broken Ethan’s heart.

  Nae wonder he said horses might be more loyal than people.

  Shame and sorrow began to eat away at her. “That’s…awful,” she whispered.

  His lips were twisted in a wry slant and his broad shoulders shrugged, “If it had happened, I’d agree, but he hasnae said a word about it so…” another shrug.

  “Thanks for telling me,” she said, feeling guilty that she had heard this second-hand. It would have been better for Ethan to tell her himself than hear it from another. Now, wild suspicions were beginning to grow and under them, fear. Fear that, if this were true, what chance did she have with Ethan?

  “I should go,” she said, trying to keep the tremors in her breast still. “Faither might be waiting for me at the great hall.”

  “Good day to ye then,” he ducked his head.

  Walking away, Violet knew there was no way she could eat anything over her upset stomach. She was making her way to the secluded garden when it dawned on her that as much as she thought she knew Ethan, there was so much she did not know. Mayhap she needed to put away the feelings she had for Ethan and learn more about him before moving forward.

  She sat and stared out into the misty hills in quiet contemplation. Ignoring the little rumbles in her stomach was much easier than ignoring the disquiet in her mind. Ethan had a past, one she felt she had to question before they could forge a future together.

  The soft crunch of twigs and dead leaves under boots had her twisting to look, and she found Ethan coming near. His tall broad-shouldered form moved smoothly with an even gait, and his faded shirt and trousers fit so well leaving her to wonder how he would look wearing the leather armor his fellow soldiers used. His boots clung to his muscular calves as he strode and as he came near, her eyes were latched onto them instead of his face.

  She felt an odd flutter in her belly when his eyebrows dipped and knitted with concern. “Violet? Why are ye out here and nay at the great hall?”

  Shifting to allow him to sit, she shook her head. “Wasnae hungry.”

  He laid his arm over the back of the seat, curving around her, and muttered, “I ken the feeling all too well. Naything had been able to sit with me much lately.”

  This would be an opportune time to approach him about his time at the university, but she couldn’t think of the right way to tactfully ask him about the lady. And so, she simply resorted to laying her head on his shoulder.

  Together, they looked over into the mountains beyond, quietly and did not speak until he broke it, “I told Faither about the possible interference from Clan Hofte, and I ken he and yer faither are discussing it now.”

  “What would ye dae if they are behind this?” Violet asked while staring out into the distance. “I mean, if they are the ones doing this, they have broken the peace between ye two and what now…war?”

  “I cannae say,” he returned. “I hope it doesnae come to that, though. I cannae go back to having to hear one thing or another, day after day, much less flat out war.” She noticed his jaw tighten and his lips thinned. “Blood, so much blood. Men dead,
women alone, children fatherless, ‘tis pure desolation.”

  “Would ye fight?” She asked. “If it came to it?”

  “I would volunteer, but I would be rejected,” he said. “I am the only son me faither has left. He willnae let me be put in danger when the Lairdship needs a leader to take over.”

  Now that they were on the topic of war and being a soldier… he had to redirect her anxieties and let her unspoken concerns rest aside, until she was able to voice her anxieties. “This all so muddled.”

  “Like a bog,” he added, “near impossible to cross. We must move to more solid ground or find another trail around it. Dae ye ken what yer faither is doing to pick back on this trail?”

  “I cannae say,” she shook her head softly. “He hasnae told me anything, yet.”

  His head twisted and his eyes swiveled to her. “What would ye dae in this circumstance?”

  Casting her memories back on the line of discoveries they had made, Violet tried to conjure some outcome, some plan, something useful but her mind was already so scattered, she fell short of putting anything together. “For once… I daenae have the faintest inkling.”

  “I understand, it’s a lot to take in,” he replied and—she sucked in a quick breath— how can she concentrate if he was mindlessly stroking the skin on her neck? “But I hope we can break through this soon.”

  “Me too,” she added. “I ken we should get back in the castle though. I’ve been out here a good while and I should eat something as well.”

  “Aye,” he agreed, but when she had expected him to move, he didn’t. Peering at him, she cocked a brow in silent question only to have him duck his head and lay a soft kiss on her lips.

  It took a moment for her to recognize it and as she was ready to kiss him back, he had pulled away and was standing. She took his extended hand and followed him on her feet towards the castle. Once inside though, she pulled away, but Ethan caught her hand again.

  She aimed a questioning glance at him, and he answered with a lopsided grin. “Faither already kens about us. T’was nay something I wanted, but what can I say, he’s me sire, he kens me more than I can ever imagine.”

  “And if he does…” she trailed off while firming her grip with his hand. “Me faither probably does too.”

  “Which means, ye dinnae have to shy away from me, but…” he kissed the back of her hand before dropping it. “Nay reason for anyone else to start gossiping.”

  Truly, Violet was relieved. There would be a time when they could be open, but she highly doubted this moment was not the right time. In step, they went to the kitchen and called for food but Violet could barely drink the goblet of nettle tea and a buttered roll. Ethan did not do so well himself, going through a portion of the beef stew before he had to push the bowl away with a sigh.

  “I ken it’s safe to say me appetite wouldnae be coming back soon,” he shook his head. “If ye’re finished, would he go with me to speak to me faither to see what’s he decided to do with Clan Hofte?”

  She nodded and plucked one more pinch of the bread and popped it into her mouth. “Aye.”

  Brushing her hands off, she stood, as did Ethan. Someone came and cleared the table, and they went off. They took the stairs to his father’s meeting room and he knocked first.

  The gruff voice of his father came with a rather hollow, “Enter.”

  With a nod over his shoulder, he went in and she followed. The Laird was at his table with her father, both men looking heavily troubled.

  The leader of the MacFerson clan flicked a look at them and said, “I was just about to call ye two in, please sit.”

  Uneasily, Violet did and Ethan took a place beside her. Her father rubbed his face and shifted to look at them, “I was askin’ the Laird if he had any enemies among ye, and he told me about the man who might be from Clan Hofte. Considering that ye and that clan have had bad blood betwixt ye, it is a possibility that the attacker could have come from there. But I happen to believe the attacker is nay that far. We have decided to go and speak to Russell this eve about it, but I sincerely believe it hasnae come from there.”

  “What dae ye ken then?” Violet asked. “If it so close…are we looking at a servant or visitor, perhaps?”

  “He asked me that question and I swore on me soul that nay one of me servants would dae something like this and the only visitor I’ve have in me castle is me brother who is nay much a visitor as he does live here, however temporarily,” the Liard clarified. “I have to believe it is some mischief-maker from Clan Hofte and the sooner we find who it is, the sooner he can be punished and life can move on.”

  Violet saw his jaw tick, as if he were saying, I wish it could be so easy.

  “I understand,” Ethan said. “What dae ye want me, us, to dae in yer absence?”

  “Just keep to the castle and I ken all should be well,” his father said. “The guards are stationed at every nook and cranny just in case anyone might even ken of starting trouble. If we dae find this culprit at Clan Hofte, be assured, he will be paying for it.”

  His tone was not comforting, and Violet hid a shudder as she scooted nearer to Ethan. His presence was calming, comforting, and his solidity smoothing over her with a soothing balm.

  “When are ye leaving?” Ethan asked.

  “Laird Hofte sent back his reply an hour ago. So I ken we should leave soon so we can avoid coming back in the night,” the Laird said. “We have four soldiers to go with us and back. I ken we will be all right. And aye, before ye say anything, Ethan, I will be tactful in me query, nay aggressive accusations or anything of the sort.”

  He let out an audible breath of relief, “I kent ye would be taken Uncle with ye as he is good at diffusing tension and maneuvering through such delicate matters with more finesse that ye have.”

  “I would have taken him if he was here,” the Laird noted with a roll of his eyes. “But, again, he is off chasing down something from the East or some tradesman with his African trade ship, or something of the sort. Ye ken his words go over me ahead at times, but he’s gone, so he won’t be a part of this.”

  “I wish ye the best,” Ethan said as he stood to shake Violet’s father’s hand and embrace his own.

  As the two men left the room, Violet began to debate with herself. She did not want to let the suppositions fester and sour her spirit anymore so she sucked in a deep breath, “Mister MacTyre told me ye once courted a Queen’s handmaid, is it true?”

  He spun towards her and his face was tight and guarded. “What?”

  Her fingers were in grabbing her skirt tightly as something both alarming and agonizing chased over Ethan’s features, showing Violet that she was probably picking at an old sore. His firming fist at his side and the sudden rigidity of his body made her want to take back her words and wipe them from his memory.

  “Why would ye dae that?” he asked calmly but the cold and angry undertones were hard to dismiss.

  She was on her feet in a heartbeat, “I dae regret what I—” she reached out to him but he shifted away. The move had pain ricocheting through her. A dagger to her heart probably would have hurt less. “—we were talking about yer time in the ranks and I felt that ye were leaving something out. I only asked about yer time with the soldiers and he was the one who told me about her on his own.”

  “Doesnae matter,” he snapped. “Maria was a part of me past, and ye have nay right to—” he shut his mouth and his jaw worked. “Excuse me, I cannae talk about it with ye.”

  Without a word, he spun and strode out and she sank back to the chair and folded her hands on her lap. Eyes clenching tight, she bit back a sob. She should have never even asked those questions but then her fear felt realized. This Maria still held a part of Ethan’s soul, either she had hurt him so badly that he could not speak of it or he was still in love with her.

  Whatever it was, she was on the losing side of his emotions. Pressing the heels of her hands on her burning eyes, she sucked in deep breaths, hoping to stifle her burge
oning cry. When she did feel like her eyes were not burning and her breath was not heaving so much, she stood and hurried back to her rooms. At least there, she would have the privacy to cry.

  She locked the door. She took her shoes off and curled up on the bed with her back to the wall. Her hand was curled to her face just in case her tears began to flow. She had hurt Ethan and she did not know how to mend it. He was still hurting; she could see and feel it but there were not enough words to apologize to him with.

  I’m so sorry Ethan…I dinnae mean to hurt ye even more with all that’s going on.

  Mired in her regret, she did not notice the time passing by and the day dimming from light to dusk. When a gust of night air came in, she darted up in surprise. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she sat up and decided that the only thing she could do was to seek out Ethan and apologize. Hearsay is not a good way to start a discussion.