Highlands Forever (Books 1–3)

by Rand, Violetta

  “Aye,” he said. “One can never have enough warriors.”

  “My father would agree.”

  “Do ye?”

  She thought about it for a long moment. “Do ye plan on waging war on someone?”

  “Nay.”

  “Expanding yer holdings?”

  Jamie chuckled softly. “What laird wouldna if he could? Unless my cousin plans on marrying me off to a lady with lands attached to her dowry, there is little property to be had in the northern Highlands.”

  “Another observation my sire would agree with. I have always encouraged my father to spend some of his wealth more wisely.”

  “On what?”

  “Education.”

  “Education?” Jamie repeated. “For who?”

  “His men and servants, of course.”

  A pretty dream from a very lovely woman. Jamie’s respect for Helen grew even more, for she had a charitable heart, too. “What need do servants or warriors have to read and write?”

  Helen’s eyes were keenly focused on his face. “How many of yer men are literate, Master Jamie?”

  He rubbed his chin. The members of the council. And the cook. Keely and her maids were well educated. “Ten, maybe eleven.”

  “And if ye were not around to oversee their needs…”

  “Laird MacKay is a lucky man. Petro is a capable secretary and acts on behalf of Alex in his absence.”

  “Aye,” she agreed. “But if ye, or Laird MacKay and Petro were indisposed, who would preside over the needs of yer men, of yer household?”

  “We keep an elected council that aids our laird in such matters. Even if I agreed with yer thinking, Lady Helen, no clan could spare capable hands for learning. There’s too much to be done.”

  Helen looked about. “Tis the dead of winter, Master Jamie. The women and children spend most of their time inside keeping warm. Yer soldiers train every morn, that I understand. But what is done with the rest of the day? In the evening hours?”

  “Ye canna expect a grown man to sit at a table after a hard day’s work and practice letters.”

  Helen crossed her arms over her chest. “Is there anything more important?”

  “Tis a dangerous question to ask,” Jamie said. “And even more treacherous for me to answer.”

  “And why…” Confused at first, as the answer dawned on her, her expression changed. “Relations outside of wedlock…”

  Jamie held up his hand. “I dinna say anything about that.”

  Helen’s cheeks reddened instantly. “Ye hinted at it, sir.”

  “Nay, I dinna.”

  “But ye did.”

  Obviously embarrassed, Helen signaled for her maid to follow her further down the pathway that led to the loch. Jamie couldna control his laughter, and the sound echoed all around them. Helen stopped abruptly, frowned back at him, then continued walking to get away from him. He let her go, giving her room to recover her dignity.

  So, the lady knew what a man and woman did together at night. Her maidenly reaction pleased him immensely. Had she ever been kissed? Caressed? Held? Nay, she was too pure to let a man touch her. And her father would no doubt never allow her to go anywhere alone.

  Of course, what kind of man fantasized about bedding a maiden like Helen Sutherland when there was a keep full of willing maids? “Me,” he said aloud as he walked to catch up with the women.

  No common woman would do for Jamie. He had the blood of nobility running through his veins. His beloved mother, Lady Mary, was a distant cousin of King Edward IV of England. A fact that both benefitted and harmed Jamie at different times in his life. His father had never let him forget about his connection to the English throne, but when he was angry with his mother, his sire used it against him—calling him an English bastard that could never be trusted—or denying him his birthright as a legitimate Highlander.

  With both of his parents gone, it mattered little. But harsh words hurt more than slashes from a sword. And in his darkest moments, Jamie remembered his father’s words as if only spoken yesterday.

  He found Helen seated on a boulder near the frozen water’s edge. “I have offended ye.”

  She dinna look at him but stared across the loch. “This is a wild place,” she observed. “Untamed and unpredictable.”

  “Did ye expect different when ye journeyed here?”

  “I dinna expect anything, Master Jamie.” She faced him then. “I have lived a privileged life, ensconced in luxury with little exposure to the real world. Just being able to choose where I sit is strange to me. There’s not a regiment of men within sight or a gaggle of old women following me everywhere. I am free to speak my mind, to take in the fresh air—to even refuse whatever I wish.”

  “And if ye could refuse anything, lady, what would it be?”

  “An equally dangerous question as the one I asked.”

  A grin tugged at Jamie’s mouth. She had a sharp mind. “Perhaps. And I doona expect ye to answer.”

  “Oh, but I want to.”

  He waited patiently for her to speak.

  “I believe there are two things I’d refuse if given the chance.”

  “Aye?”

  “My name. And Laird Munroe.”

  “Fine choices,” he said. “And if ye were just Helen of the Highlands, what would ye do first?”

  “Is it not yer turn to answer a question?”

  “Verra well,” he said. “I hide nothing.”

  “What would ye do if ye were just Jamie of the Highlands?”

  “Well that depends, Lady Helen.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether ye are a Sutherland in that moment, or just Helen of the Highlands.”

  She swallowed hard, her eyes narrowing.

  Jamie knew he shouldna speak so brazenly, especially in front of the maid his cousin had appointed to take care of Lady Helen. But their time alone together was short. And if he dinna voice his attraction, let her know that a spark of something indescribable had been borne between them, he might not get a second chance to do so.

  “Helen of the Highlands,” she whispered.

  Jamie stepped closer to where she sat, flexing his left hand, wrestling against the urge to touch her, just once. To finger one of her golden curls, to caress her soft cheek. To breathe in her scent. “I’d kiss ye.”

  Helen nervously shifted her plaited hair from her left shoulder to the right. And Miran the maid clicked her tongue in disapproval but said nothing as she turned her back to them and pretended to be interested in something along the shore.

  “Kiss me?” Helen asked breathlessly.

  He nodded, so close to her he could feel the heat radiating off her body. “Now ye owe me an answer, Helen of the Highlands. What would ye do with yer newly found freedom?”

  “I’d let ye kiss me,” she said as boldly as him, her confidence never wavering, her eyes never leaving his.

  Her answer sent a shockwave of desire through his body, forcing him to swallow the words he wished to say. Jamie closed his eyes, picturing what it would be like to have her in his arms, to spread her out beneath him, naked and willing—uninhibited and…

  “Jamie.” A masculine voice ripped Jamie from his dream.

  Lord. Who dared interfere with his precious time with Lady Helen? Petro waved as he walked down the path.

  Jamie eyed Helen with regret. He’d waited too long to claim that sweet mouth, but he’d find another way to get her alone. Without Miran trailing behind her. Where Petro couldn’t interrupt them. Where his cousin would never know.

  Chapter Seven

  “The signature is a forgery,” Petro confirmed as they walked back to the keep.

  Jamie frowned. “So, Lady Helen isna a liar.”

  Petro cast him a dark look. “Did you ever think she was?”

  “I doona know what to think anymore,” he grunted, still irritated by the missed chance to kiss Helen. “Liars come in every form—men and women.”

  “Perhaps,” Petro affirmed. �
�But not golden-haired beauties who have sought refuge in your home. What use would deception be for a lady in desperate circumstances?”

  Jamie could think of plenty of uses: to convince everyone that she was in danger, to cast her sire in a shadow of doubt… “My answer doesna matter. Ye have confirmed her claim. She dinna sign that contract, and the bastard sitting in that cell deserves a beating for lying to Laird Alex and me.”

  “Wait.” Petro gripped his shoulder.

  “What?”

  “You are losing control, Jamie.”

  In denial, Jamie shook Petro off. “There’s nothing to lose control over. I’ve been asked to protect Lady Helen. That includes her honor. Duncan has insulted her, falsely accused her of lying in public. He must be dealt with severely—given a reason to think twice before he attempts to ruin her reputation again.”

  “You’ve proven my point, Master Jamie. It did not take me long to see the attraction between the two of you.”

  “Ye’ve been locked up too long in that solar. A breath of air should clear yer muddled, Italian mind.”

  Petro grinned. “The one thing that never gets muddled is my mind. Everyone can see it, Jamie. Alex, too.”

  “Then why would he trust me to guard her?”

  “Because you would give your life to protect anyone under your care. Even a beautiful woman you want to bed.”

  Without thought, Jamie gabbed a fistful of the scholar’s cloak, giving him a shake. “If I could, I’d put ye on one of my cousin’s ships and send ye back to Rome where ye belong. Wouldna ye be more comfortable walking in yer gardens? Pressing grapes with yer bare feet—drinking sweet wine?”

  Petro chuckled. “The peasants press the wine. I am a learned man, though a walk in the warm sunshine would be nice in the middle of winter.”

  “I am sorry.” Jamie released him. “I canna deny what ye say—perhaps ye have expressed it too clearly for my liking.”

  “Lady Helen is a remarkable woman.”

  “Aye. Enough to make me rethink everything.”

  “You must hide your feelings for now. She has enough danger looming about her. And if I know anything, Earl Sutherland will send for her—she is too much of a valuable bargaining piece to forget. Though the Highland lairds prefer sons, it’s through their daughters that they gain the most power by way of their tochars.”

  Jamie marveled at Petro’s understanding of his people. “Alex is fortunate to have ye at his side.”

  Petro bowed. “I am at your service, too, Master Jamie. You are his right hand, never forget that.”

  Jamie nodded and walked the rest of the way to the keep with Petro. Helen and Miran had gone ahead. As soon as he entered the great hall, he saw Alex and the council seated at the high table.

  “What is this about?”

  “I have delivered the news to Laird Alex already,” Petro said. “Now he awaits your opinion on what to do with the lady and Duncan Munroe.”

  Jamie gripped the scholar’s forearm in thanks, then turned his attention to Alex.

  “What kept ye?” Alex asked as Jamie claimed the seat next to his cousin.

  “Lady Helen was enjoying her walk.”

  “She is comfortable here?”

  “Aye,” Jamie assured him. “Afraid of the unknown, as any woman should be. Her father is unpredictable and likely to start trouble with us.”

  “Trouble we doona need or deserve,” Mathe complained.

  Jamie rolled his eyes at the eldest member of the council. Though he respected the man greatly, for he’d proven his value with sound advice and could swing his sword better than most men half his age, Mathe grumbled endlessly like an old woman if he dinna like something.

  “Would ye send Lady Helen back to her father, then?” Jamie demanded.

  “I would act in the best interest of this clan.”

  “At the cost of making us look like cowards?” Jamie bit his tongue, realizing he’d spoken to harshly, too accusingly.

  “We are nay match for the Sutherlands.” Mathe crossed his arms and glowered at Jamie.

  “Yer doubt leaves me wondering if ye support this clan wholeheartedly, Mathe. As for ye, Jamie, the word coward shouldna be in yer heart or mind. We doona match them in number,” Alex said. “But we are resourceful, willing to take more risks than the sated earl. He has grown lazy, letting other men speak for him while he gorges himself with meat and wine.”

  “And ye will do the same in yer old age,” Mathe added. “Ye fight now for our future, but once ye accomplish everything ye set out to do…”

  Alex interrupted his advisor with deep-bellied laughter. “Ye have an overactive imagination, old friend. I will never neglect my clan or place the burden of my duties on another man’s shoulders.”

  “Aye,” the other council members said in unison.

  “The day will come,” Mathe held strong to his opinion.

  “God has blessed me with a healthy son. The day I grow too weak to represent this clan, is the day I will place John on this chair.”

  “Why are we arguing about this,” Jamie asked. “Havena we gathered to discuss the fate of Lady Helen Sutherland?”

  “Aye,” Alex said. “What say ye, Jamie?”

  “After spending time with her, and once Petro confirmed that she dinna sign the tochar her sire forced her into, I believe she fears for her life if married to Laird Munroe. The rumors concerning the demise of his former wives, all young and strong, concerns me. I humbly ask this council to rule in favor of granting Lady Helen sanctuary for as long as she wishes to stay.” Jamie leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out, and waited to see what his fellow members would say.

  Though Helen had escaped on her own, the earl of Sutherland could still accuse the MacKays of kidnapping—possibly finding favor with the crown and causing formal charges to be raised against Laird Alex.

  If only Helen Sutherland was Helen of the Highlands, the woman Jamie wanted to kiss—to get to know.

  “I understand the obligation ye feel to the lady,” Keith MacKay said sympathetically to Alex. “Lady Keely fled our keep and sought refuge with the Sutherlands seven years ago. From what I’ve been told, twas Helen who convinced her father to be charitable to yer wife.”

  “Aye,” Alex said.

  “And what kind of men would we be if we turned the helpless woman away in her time of need?” Keith asked, gazing at each of the council members. “However, let us not repeat history—the kind of history that hurt our clan. A missive must be sent to the earl.”

  “For what purpose?” Jamie asked.

  Keith’s bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of all the men sitting at this table, I am surprised I need to remind ye, Jamie.”

  “Laird Oliphant,” Jamie said, releasing a frustrated breath.

  “Aye. For five long years the man agonized over Lady Keely—unsure if she was alive or dead. Nay matter what kind of man the earl is, he’s still her sire. Tis our responsibility to inform him of her safety.”

  “Throw open the gates and invite the earl’s bloody soldiers in,” Mathe blurted. “That’s what will happen if ye send that missive.”

  “Ye are overly critical of anything we discuss, Mathe,” Jamie said.

  “If we doona learn anything from the past, we doona deserve to live.”

  “Ye can live on yer knees then.” Jamie shot up from his chair and shoved the heavy table away. “I will take the lady into my own home.”

  “Live on my knees?” Mathe stood up. “I was fighting for this clan while ye were still suckling yer ma’s breast.”

  “Jamie! Mathe!” Alex warned.

  Jamie ignored his cousin. “Admit ye’re afraid of retaliation from the earl if we keep his daughter here.”

  “Nay,” Mathe seethed. “I’m nay afraid of anyone or anything. What I worry about is the future of this clan, our bairns and women. How many died two years ago in the attacks on the west village? Remember? Laird John? Yer kinsman?”

  “I remember.” Jamie sc
rubbed his face. “All the more reason to help Lady Helen. Doona cast yer pearls before swine.” He stepped down from the dais and poured himself a cup of ale from a pitcher on one of the lower tables. After taking a deep drink, he wiped his mouth dry with the back of his hand. “Since when does a Highlander struggle with what is morally right?” He stared long and hard at Mathe.

  “Morally right,” Mathe seemed to agree, “but strategically irresponsible.”

  Jamie dinna understand Mathe’s hesitation about helping Helen. His cowardice angered Jamie. The word Alex wanted stricken from his mind and heart, a word he had only today associated with Mathe. “Guma h-olc dhut!”

  Instead of reacting hotly to Jamie’s curse, Mathe grinned like a wild dog. “Ye wish evil to befall me? Appears to me that a devil in a gown has already darkened yer conscience, Jamie MacKay.” With that, Mathe excused himself from the great hall.

  Chapter Eight

  “What did ye overhear in the great hall, Miran?” Helen asked her maid upon her return to the bedchamber they shared.

  Miran set the tray of food and wine on the nearest table. “Doona make me say, Lady Helen. Some things are better left unsaid.”

  If Miran thought she was helping by speaking such words… “How often does the council meet?”

  “Once a week,” Miran said. “And whenever there is important matters to discuss about the clan.”

  Helen nodded; she understood. “I am the reason for this meeting?”

  “Aye.”

  “And several of the men want me to leave?”

  “Nay!” Miran rushed over and placed her hands over Helen’s. “Never doubt my laird’s affection and appreciation for ye. All of the women agree—ye are welcome here. Ye helped our mistress, and for that, we are ever grateful.”

  Helen smiled warmly. “I look forward to seeing Keely.” It had been too long. And there was so much to say, so many questions to ask. “Tell me about the bairns again.” She sat in one of the high-backed chairs in front of the hearth, glad for the roaring fire. It helped chase the frigid fear from her mind and body, the fear that had gripped her since she snuck out of her sire’s castle and mounted her horse to ride away forever.