Highlander's Cursed Bride: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Lydia Kendall

  She needs my protection, even if she doesn't know it.

  His worry had gotten the better of him. He closed his book and got to his feet.

  I wonder what she is doing now.

  Joan had a hand over her mouth to stop her laughter as she watched her escorts run around trying to find her from the window of the doctor's office.

  “You should not worry them so much child,” the town doctor said. He was hunched over his table filled with books, papers, and colored glass bottles. “If they report back to your father, the old man may go mad.”

  “It is just for a little while, Doctor. I do not wish to go back now. I might not be allowed into town for another three months,” she said as she unlocked the door that led to his garden.

  “At least tell me where you are headed to.” The doctor didn't look back at her, still concentrated on his work.

  “I do not know for now. Anywhere but the prison I call home,” Joan's face fell when the doctor finally glanced up from his work at her. He had a disapproving and worried look in his tired eyes.

  “You do not know the town so well, child.”

  “That is only because my father never lets me leave the estate!” she quickly defended herself but the doctor still was not pleased.

  “There is a war coming. It is not safe for a lady to be out alone at any time of the day.” This spiked Joan's interest.

  “A war?”

  “A war is brewing between the Duke of Haerton and the Earl of Aberdeenshire in Scotland. Their fathers hated each other bitterly and the hatred is still present in the sons. The Duke of Haerton has imprisoned every Scot he can find, and the barbarians have sent more spies into Haerton. A few have been caught, a few died in the hands of towners, but some are still out there. A trio of soldiers was attacked just last night. Everyone thinks it must be the Scots that ambushed them on their way home from the field.” He pushed his spectacles to sit on the bridge of his nose. “None of them survived, unfortunately. They were found this morning, sickly pale, cold.” He paused as he turned back to his work and said, “Imagine what they would do to the daughter of a lord.”

  “What do the Scots have to do with me, doctor? I can protect myself.”

  “Unfortunately, you cannot. You are a lady of eighteen summers. A boy younger than you could easily overpower you, not to speak of fully-grown men almost identical in size to the oxen.”

  “I am not weak, Doctor! You come to the castle often, you have taught me to help wounded soldiers, but the soldiers would rather suffer than let me come near them after you leave. How is that protecting me?” Joan snapped, her hands on her hips.

  “Women are fragile beings, my dear. We do not wish for any harm to befall you. Your father and everyone around you care deeply for you. I believe the least you can do is try to be a proper lady.”

  Joan balled her hands into fists as she walked out and slammed the door shut. She felt the cool evening air on her face, she looked up at the sun setting and thought about what the doctor had said about her.

  If being a lady means I have to just read books, drink tea, look pretty, and not follow my dreams then I do not want to be a lady. Why can't I live like the heroes in stories? I've read all about towns and cultures that I might never see or experience. All I see every day is the four walls of this old castle. All I want is to travel the world, to see what I have read about. I just want to be free.

  She flipped her straight brown hair over her shoulders and set out toward where she recalled the lake was but after a few turns, she got lost.

  Joan was frustrated. She stood in the middle of the road trying to figure out where she was when she heard shouting. At first, she thought her escorts had found her, so she dashed behind a building. She noticed that the shouting was coming from inside the building so she took a peek through the window to see what was going on.

  Joan noticed a bunch of men were arguing with one other man.

  “How dare you? You cannot just owe us money and think you can leave town! Take the Scottish scum to the station!”

  One man took the debtor by the collar and the rest of them cheered. The debtor tried to protect himself as the man holding his shirt tried to attack him. Joan felt the need to interfere but she had no idea what to do.

  “Wait!” she suddenly cried from behind the window and all heads turned to her. She saw the debtor's face clearly. His brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, brown eyes stared back at her in curiosity. He looked big, but not as big as the man holding him.

  “Just hold on a moment,” she said as she hurried into the tavern. She ran toward the big man who had now lifted the debtor off the ground. She hit him repeatedly from behind until he turned to her. “How much does he owe?”

  “What is a lady like you doing in here?” one of the men sneered. “I have never seen you before. She must be one of these Scottish spies! Get her!”

  “No! I am not a spy!” she yelled back at them. “I am Miss Joan Hale, daughter of Lord Tyrill.” The men exchanged confused looks.

  “The Lord has a daughter?” one of the men asked. “I always thought he had a son that died in the war.”

  “What? No! I am his daughter!”

  “You are the Lord's daughter and none of us knows you? Liar! She must be a Scot like him! Catch her!” one of them hollered and they shoved the debtor away and advanced toward her. Joan took a few steps backward before breaking into a sprint.

  She knew she was in trouble now. Her town was like a maze to her and she had no idea where she was headed but she knew she had to find one of her guards and she prayed she found one quickly. Her dress was slowing her down with its weight, her corset was preventing her from breathing properly, and her shoes were not built for running.

  From afar, she heard someone call out to her and she turned in his direction. “There she is! The lady is over here!” She was elated to have found her escorts and tried to run to them but one of the men at the tavern caught her hand.

  Leave me alone!

  “Got you!” he had a sinister smirk on his face that frightened Joan. “You will be imprisoned for life. That ought to teach you barbarians.”

  “No! Let me go! Unhand me!” She struggled to get away from him but his grip only became tighter as he dragged her along with him. "Please, I beg of you to let me go!"

  “Hey! Hey you! Unhand her right away!” Sir James shouted at the man holding her.

  Joan breathed a sigh of relief as her guards finally reached her.

  “She is a spy! A spy sent by the Scots! We have her accomplice.”

  “No, you imbecile! She is Lord Tyrill’s daughter, Miss Hale!” one of the guards declared.

  The debtor she rushed to save took a quick look at her from atop his horse before he fled as soon as the guards rescued her.

  Her attacker was pushed away from her and pinned to the ground while she massaged the hand that had been in the man's grip. She winced at the pain that shot up her arm when she touched it.

  “Are you all right, miss?” the head guard asked when he saw her pained expression. “If you had stayed with us, none of this would have happened.”

  The head guard walked toward the man on the ground, unsheathing his sword as he strolled. He towered over her attacker and everyone in the tavern stared in fear. The helpless man began to murmur an apology to the knight. Sir James brought the tip of his sword dangerously close to the agitated man’s right eye.

  “The next time you lay your eyes on her, you better run very far, very fast,” Sir James said, still towering over him.

  “Yes, Sir,” the man agreed.

  “My apologies, Sir James,” Joan whispered as she came up behind him. “My father is not to hear about any of this.”

  “I am sorry, Miss Hale, but that will not be possible. You have gone against his orders and I cannot keep this away from him. The sun is setting, we should have returned hours ago."

  "But—"

  "Your safety is my top priority, Miss Hale, and if I cannot keep y
ou in check then your father might do the unimaginable to me."

  Joan rubbed her sore wrist as she was escorted back to the Hale Estate. Her heart was beating fast in her chest in fear if what her father would say to her.

  “You do not understand anything, child,” Lord Tyrill said to his daughter when she arrived back to the castle.

  “You always say this, father! Why? I do not want to be caged up like a bird. I want to meet people. I don't even have friends. I’ve never been to a ball. I want a life. Let me make my own decisions for once!” Joan complained to her father.

  And risk you losing your life?

  “I am only doing what is the best for you, child. There are people that will cause you harm out there. You were mistaken for a spy and who knows what may have become of you if you were not found,” Lord Tyrill said as he stubbornly looked out the window.

  “Father!” He turned to his daughter and shook his head. “Please, father. I promise I will be more careful next time.”

  “There will not be a next time. You are to stay in the castle for the rest of the year, maybe then you will learn your lesson.”

  Maybe that will give you enough time to think, he thought.

  His heart raced at the thought of the last curse as he snuck a peek at his left hand where the scars were. That one curse he dreaded meant losing his daughter. He wanted to keep her alive at least until he passed, but she was making it difficult for him.

  “But, Father, the town festival is tomorrow night. I always go.”

  “You cannot go and that is final!”

  “Father!” she cried out in protest, her hazel eyes glistening with defiance. “I just want to go to the festival! There is only one a year and I have prepared for it for months!”

  “People cannot be trusted and I cannot allow anything happen to you that I will regret.” The Lord shook his head and turned back to the window, his back facing his angry daughter.

  He heard her receding footsteps and he turned to look at her. Her straight brown hair swayed from one side to another in frenzy from her walking pace. She reached the door and gave her father a defiant look before stomping off, slamming the door in her wake.

  The Lord let out a deep breath as he went back to looking out the window. His eyes went toward the church where his wife was buried and he clenched his fist.

  I do apologize, Irene. Your death was my fault. Our family is not as we wished it to be, but I will preserve what is left of it no matter the cost.

  Chapter 2

  It was a new day. The sun was high in the sky, hidden behind a cloud, and the lady of the estate was throwing a fit and no one wanted to get in her way as she stomped to her wing of the estate. “Sebastian!” she yelled out, startling the maidservants around her.

  “You called, Miss?” the older man asked in a playful manner as he walked toward her. “Let us talk in the study?” he said, leading her toward the large study on her side of the estate.

  “He won't let me go out for the rest of the year!” she complained to Sebastian.

  Sebastian Morley was the Lord's closest friend. He had fought alongside her father in many wars and now resided with him in his estate. Sebastian was much closer to the lady than her father was, mostly because he chose to listen to her. The lady had found a second paternal figure in the blue-eyed man.

  “Lord Tyrill is only worried about your wellbeing, Miss Hale.”

  Does that give him the right to take away my freedom?

  “You say he cares about my wellbeing, but he has taken away my life. I just want to go to the annual festival. It is not as if I would be executed at a festival, Sebastian.” She scoffed as she picked up a dusty book from a shelf and sneezed when she slapped the book against her palm to remove the dust.

  “I know you want to see the world, but you know your father's fears. Those fears are why he tries to keep you protected and guarded at all times.”

  She took notice of the globe on the desk and tucked the book under her arm as she twirled the globe and placed a finger on it to make it stop. With a grin on her face, she tucked her hair behind her ear and faced the man.

  “Oh, Sebastian. If I had a chance to leave this place unguarded, I doubt I would ever return.” Sebastian hummed in reply as she flipped open the book. “How I long to be free of this cage. To feel the grass under my feet, to watch the sunrise and sunset in an open field.” She giggled as she dropped the book onto the dusty shelf. She raised her head and shut her eyes as she imagined a better life. “To do what I want! To…to…" her smile fell as she opened her eyes, “to be happy, for once.”

  She felt Sebastian's eyes on her as she fell back into the plush cushions of the armchair. “Miss Hale?”

  “Is that too much to ask for, Sebastian?”

  “Not at all, Miss. But your father cares deeply about you and your safety.” She let out an irritated sigh at what he had said. “The world is a very evil place. I believe all his efforts, however extreme, are for your safety.”

  “We don't even know if I am a target. Who are his enemies? He assumes that I am weak. What am I being kept away from?” She shot out of the armchair and yelled at the man. “What are you hiding me from? I am not a rabbit who shivers at the slightest feel of the cold evening wind! I want to be free!” She met his eyes and she could see that he pitied her. “Do not look at me with your pity-filled eyes, Sebastian. It makes me feel helpless.”

  “My apologies, Miss Hale.” Joan fell back into the armchair with an unladylike squeal. “If I may, I think there is a way for you to go to the festival tonight, but we can only do this once.” Joan felt hope rise up in her again and she shot out of the armchair again.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “The winter cloaks for the guards just arrived, Miss Hale. Some are ill-fitting so they must be sent back to the seamstress. If we wait until the sun goes down, we may have a chance of leaving the estate. I can reassign the maids that are supposed to return the cloaks and we can go in their place. Once we are outside, we can use the cloaks to disguise ourselves and spend some time in the town.”

  Joan was excited as well as hesitant. She had never snuck out before in fear of what her father would say if he ever came to know of it. She did not want to see him as scared as he was when she came home with a bruised wrist the day before, neither did she want to see the disappointment in his eyes after he learnt she had escaped her guards.

  “I know you must be nervous. It is fine if you do not want to attempt it. I do not advise you to.”

  “If my father comes to know of it, he would be so disappointed.”

  “All the more reason why I do not advise you do it. I only thought of it because I sympathize with you.” Joan wanted to go to the festival but she was afraid of her father finding out. She took a deep breath and quickly made her decision.

  This might be my last chance to see anything beyond this castle for many moons.

  “When can we leave?”

  “The twenty-second hour of the day. Wait in this study and I will come back here for you.”

  True to his word, a knock sounded on her door just as the hour reached. She hurriedly opened the door and Sebastian tossed a cloak at her. “Put that on and quickly and grab this bag.” He handed her a bag full of cloaks.

  Joan hurriedly pulled on the cloak and picked up a bag, not knowing what was inside, and followed Sebastian. His plan seemed to be working as no one questioned them until they reached the gates. Then they bumped into Sir James, the head guard.

  “Where are you two off to?” Sir James questioned. Joan could feel his gaze on her. She felt Sebastian tug at her cloak and she turned to Sebastian who winked at her and motioned at her bag. She opened the bag and dipped her hand inside and pulled out a cloak identical to the one she wore.

  “Oh, you are the one going to get the cloaks mended? Fine, hurry up and go,” Sir James said as he moved out of their way and they both hurried out of the estate.

  Joan was beyond elated. She was finally
outside the estate, going to the festival and she didn't have an army behind her to scare everyone away. She lifted the hood of her cloak so she could take in the sights and sounds of the festival.

  “We have to return before midnight, Miss.”

  “Why? Can we not stay the entire night?”

  “If your father found out I snuck you out, his wrath—”

  “Yes, I know of his wrath,” Joan interrupted Sebastian as she turned away from him and walked into the crowd, creating some distance between them.

  She twirled joyfully in the cramped space, closing her eyes as the evening breeze cooled her body.