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

by Lydia Kendall

  As the thief reached for a dagger, Aidan kicked him back in the direction of the broken half of the sword in the soil. Once they were close enough, Aidan shoved him back as hard as he could, and he landed on the pointed end of the sword that was sticking out from the ground. The sword pierced his back and he screamed in pain.

  “Look out,” Joan screamed.

  Aidan stood straight to catch his breath when he heard a cry from someone else and he looked back to see another man running from the bushes, spear poised to injure. Aidan narrowly dodged the spear and hit the thief, making him fall on his face.

  Where did he learn to fight like this?

  Before the man could get back up, Aidan had placed a heavy foot on his head and pressed down hard. Joan saw the thief's mouth bleed. “Aidan, he's bleeding!”

  “Close yer eyes!” he shouted back at her. She didn't listen and he shouted at her again. “Close yer eyes Joan! Now!”

  She jumped and shut her eyes. She heard a plea then the sound of a sword hitting the ground. She peeped and almost screamed when she saw the man’s head separated from his body. The head was staring at her with a horrified look on its face.

  “Ye‘re the only one left?” Aidan pointed behind her where the now one-handed man was watching even as he screamed.

  The man looked terrified as he tried to scramble away. “P-please do not kill me! I only wanted food and some money!” he cried as Aidan walked toward him. “All I wanted was food and some money! Please do not kill me!”

  “If ye want money, then ye earn it! If yer want food, then ye work for it! But if ye lay a hand on me woman, I cut it off!” The thief cried as Aidan raised his sword but stopped a few inches from him. The thief was hysterical. “Go!” Aidan yelled. The thief scrambled to his feet, muttering words of thanks. “If I ever see yer bloody face again, ye'll be in trouble!” Aidan shouted as the thief bumped into Ian as he ran off.

  Aidan shoved his sword to the ground and leaned on it as Ian approached them with a bag full of birds. “What happened 'ere?” Ian asked.

  Aidan looked back at a terrified Joan and smiled at her. His smile seemed to calm her down as she stopped shaking. “Who was that? Why does the lass look terrified?”

  “We were attacked by some bandits.”

  Chapter 6

  “We have nothing.” Sir James glared at the guard.

  “I do not want that answer! Lord Tyrill has asked me specifically to find her! Comb this forest! I want her found!” he yelled at the guards, but he stood still. “Anytime soon would be nice!” he yelled again and they scattered.

  Sir James decided to take to the denser part of the forest. For hours, he cut down branches and overgrown leaves that stood in his way. He knew they should have been back at the Hale Estate hours ago but he didn't want to look incompetent.

  The Lord had been very picky when he was given the opportunity to select guards from the royal guards to work for him as a gift from the late King for the wars he had won for England.

  Sir James had just left his master when he was sent to work in the King's palace as a squire. He was trained in sword fighting but because of his rank, the other guards and knights left him with the job of sharpening their weapons and cleaning their armor.

  This went on until the King asked Lord Tyrill to select a few guards and he was chosen. He admired Lord Tyrill for all his victories and he still did. The man was a war lord who struck fear into the hearts of his opponents. Sir James struggled to be recognized and after years of hard work, the Lord finally took notice of him and he was knighted. After years of proving his loyalty, he was appointed as the head guard.

  “Without him, I would still be a squire, I can't fail him!” he said to himself.

  The Lord had very few fears and weaknesses. He was only afraid for his daughter’s safety. The girl was her father's only constant worry. Sir James could not understand what Lord Tyrill was so afraid was out in the world that he kept her locked up all her life.

  Maybe he worries too much.

  Miss Hale was a very inquisitive girl, always wanting to know everything. She quickly understood she couldn't go out of the estate and always rebelled. She would shout and kick and scream when she was a child but now that she was grown up, she spit out spiteful words in her anger that hurt her father, but he never showed it. She ran off when she was allowed to go outside and he always had to find her and drag her back.

  This was the usual until she started to sneak out to see a man. Anger ran through him when the man was brought back to the estate and the Lord handed his punishment over to Sir James.

  He is a bloody Highlander.

  The fact that he was their enemy made him so angry that he beat him as badly as he could before he was dragged off by his men.

  If I had the chance, I would have killed him right there. With the way she fought to protect the bloody Highlander and the angry words she spat at her father and Sebastian, there is no doubt that she has run off with him.

  The Scot is lucky to be alive, England has grown soft. Were he killed when he set foot in England, this would not be happening. Now, I'm losing men to robbers because of an enemy we allowed to wander among us. Damn the Highlanders!

  The next morning, he had listened to her conversation with her father in her study. To hear her defend the Scot over and over again infuriated him too much. She seemed lovestruck.

  Once the sun began to set, he turned and headed back to the Hale Estate with his men. He heard their whispers about him and chose to ignore it.

  “Why is he so bothered? We should have been back by daybreak but he kept us out here for so long,” the first guard said rather loudly.

  “He thinks that Lord Tyrill will let him marry Miss Hale if he finds her. What a silly thought.” The second one chuckled and Sir James turned back to look at both guards, making them freeze.

  “I was given the responsibility of watching over the estate. This kind of situation is a dent in my armor that I must fix. If you have any other thoughts about me, you can tell them to Lord Tyrill when we get back.” He turned, and they retreated in fear. Soon they arrived at the Hale Estate where Lord Tyrill had been waiting outside.

  “Did you find her? Did you hear anything about her?” Hale clutched Sir James by the shoulders. “Tell me you at least found a clue to where she is headed!”

  “My apologies, Milord. We could not find anything.” Hale shoved him back and let out a strangled cry.

  “I need more people to look for her! I want you to extend your search to other towns!” Hale said as he pulled on a coat that had been lying on a chair. “Come! Come with me, Sir James!” He turned to Sebastian and said, “You watch over the estate.” The Lord pulled the head guard up and out through the doors. "I have done the Duke of Haerton a lot of favors and his late father was my friend. He should be able to help us.”

  “Do you not think it is late?”

  “He has to see me.” Both men rode through the busy town toward the Duke’s castle where they were immediately given access. They were taken to a candlelit hall and asked to wait. “His father and I were very good friends. He cannot deny me an audience.”

  “Of course, Milord.” Sir James knew it was almost impossible to see the Duke this late. He was known to be a sleazy, lazy drunk who had only used his position to benefit himself. He knew that even if they did see the Duke, he might not have anything reasonable to say.

  Hours passed, it was close to midnight, the guards were changing shifts and Lord Tyrill still couldn't see the Duke. “We have been waiting for so long!” A passing guard was called. “Where is the Duke?”

  The guard seemed amused at the Lord's question. “The Duke?”

  “Yes!”

  “He is probably balls deep in one of his mistresses. They had a feast tonight.”

  The Viscount asked, “When did it start?”

  “It started just after sundown. The Duke felt there was too much food in the castle. He had a feast for all the mistresses and threw out the l
eftovers.” The guard scoffed at the end.

  Sir James saw the frustration on the Lord's face and let out a deep sigh. “My Lord, I don't think the Duke wants to see us.”

  “No! I have to see him! My daughter is at the mercy of that savage.”

  “I suggest we return to see him at daybreak.”

  “You do not care for my daughter?”

  “It is not that I do not care, My Lord, I just need some rest. I have been out looking for the Lady for the whole day, despite the dangers of the forest. I beg of you not to force me to wait here all night to see a Duke who might be of no help!”

  Sir James knew he didn't have much say but he hoped the Lord would be reasonable. “I will continue the search for the Lady as soon as my men are rested. Until then, please let me regain some strength.”

  “You may leave,” Lord Tyrill replied dismissively.

  “Thank you. I can escort you half the way back to the castle my Lord.” Sir James said.

  "No need for that," Lord Tyrill replied. After Sir James left, he beckoned to a maid by the doorway, "Get me a drink."

  No one remembers what I did for them.

  Lord Tyrill swung his head back as he took a gulp of his beer. He threw caution to the wind and stumbled through the streets in stupor of dejection. He had left his horse to avoid falling off it in his drunken state.

  The moon was full and high in the sky, the screeching of two stray cats almost blocked out the hooting of an owl perched on a street lantern. His mind went back to that night as he rounded a corner and came to stand in front of the tavern where it all started.

  Since that night, he avoided inns in fear of meeting the witch again. He took a step toward the inn and stopped when he saw a cloaked figure come out. He cocked his head to the side as the small figure approached him. He took a step back as the figure came to stand in front of him.

  His beer fell out of his hand when the figure grabbed his hand and his sleeve fell to his elbow, exposing his scars. He didn't struggle as a long finger ran over the three scars. He didn't feel fear or anxiety.

  He felt calm.

  “Go,” the figure said. “She has cursed you. Do not stay here. Go.” The figure dropped his hand and walked past him. He looked back just in time to see her removing the hood of her cloak. She looked exactly like the witch but with more color in her skin and different type of hair. Her hair was golden and it fell in waves, her eyes looked like the starry blue night. She shooed him away with her hand and he nodded slowly.

  He staggered back from the inn just as another cloaked figure exited the inn. She ran past him, after the golden-haired woman, and a feeling of fear washed over him. He felt all his previous emotions of grief, fear, and anxiety crashing down on him all at once, suffocating him. He fell to his knees and tried to control his emotions but they came out as frustrated tears.

  A few minutes passed when the golden-haired woman ran back and her calm aura filled his senses again. “Go! Do not stay here!” she yelled at him as she helped him to his feet. “Run!” She gave him a small push and he started to run. He looked back and saw her running after him. Her presence helped him relax. Even as she was adamant about him running, he could not feel the fear that he should have felt from running from the unknown.

  He suddenly saw the other cloaked figure round a corner and fear filled him. He began to get hysterical but when he felt the aura of the golden-haired woman, he felt calm; he forget what he was running from.

  He felt her presence run with him and to his estate and push him through the gates. He peeped out to see both figures dashing around the freesia field next to his estate. The golden-haired woman seemed to be in trouble; the other cloaked figure pulled out a dagger and lunged for her. He saw a glimpse of pale skin as the golden-haired woman was struck down.

  He saw the dagger transform into a spear and the pale cloaked figure pushed it deeper into the golden-haired woman's chest. He felt useless as he watched the woman get stabbed. The pale woman ripped out the spear and stabbed the golden-haired woman over and over till the freesia fields were stained red.

  Lord Tyrill tried to move but his feet felt heavy. His terror fixed him in place. He saw the pale one take out the spear again and stab the golden-haired woman again. The golden-haired woman slowly turned back to look at him. She gave him a bloody smile and he felt tears run down his face.

  One last time, the pale figure stabbed the golden-haired woman and he saw a faint golden light come from her as she vanished. The woman was gone but he could still feel her calming presence. He wiped his face, unable to understand why he felt so emotional when she died. Even when he heard the other one cackle, he still couldn't feel fear.

  She looked up and their eyes met. She glared at him with a terrifying look in her eyes. He suddenly recognized her and stepped back. She grinned at him, turned her back to him and walked away. When he was sure she had gone, he stepped out of the shadows and the calm aura came over him again.

  Isn't she dead?

  He stepped into the freesia field and he noticed that some freesia was stained with gold dust. He plucked one and the flower grew back almost immediately with a gold stain, shocking him. He plucked some more and the same thing happened.

  Is she also a witch? Aren't all witches evil? Why does she make me feel so calm?

  He went back in with a handful of freesia flowers, all stained with magical gold dust. He entered his room and set them on his desk. He sat on his bed and his mind rushed to his daughter but instead of the dread he felt earlier, he had more positive thoughts. His frustration was gone. He quickly changed into his night clothes and soon fell asleep, his dreams filled with images of the golden-haired woman's reassuring smile.

  He woke up the next morning refreshed. He picked up his flowers and went down to meet Sebastian who still looked like he didn't get a wink of sleep.

  “Did you see the Duke?” The Lord shook his head and Sebastian cocked his head in a questioning manner.

  “He was drunk.” The head guard whispered to Sebastian who cracked a smile. “My men are ready to set out. Where would like us to search?” Sir James asked Lord Tyrill.

  Hale was about answer when he heard a soft voice whisper in his ear. “Run, do not stop. Go to Rattray.”

  “Scotland! It is almost a week's journey!”

  “My Lord, Scotland is a bit too far for her to have gone in such little time. She did not take a horse, she did not take her purse of money, and she could not have stolen a horse. There is no way she would have gotten to Scotland in a day.”

  “Go to Rattray,” the Lord repeated as he got to his feet and tucked the flowers in his clothes. “Sebastian come, we have to go to see the Duke,” he said and pulled Sebastian along, leaving Sir James with an irritated look on his face.

  “Go to Rattray he says!” he grumbled to himself as he made his way after them so he could gather his men for the journey.

  If I find her in Scotland with that Highlander, her father will not be the only one scolding her.

  He went outside where his men were waiting. “The Lord wants us to go to Scotland! Grab your horses!”

  “Why?” one of them asked as he got on his black stallion. Most of them followed suit, grabbing a horse. The guard stood next to his horse, waiting for an answer. “Why do we have to go to Scotland?”

  “To look for the Lady. Just pray to God that we make it back alive.”

  Chapter 7

  “It is too late, Aidan. Take a break.” Ian added more twigs to the fire they had made. Joan was fast asleep on his sleeping bag. She had been worn out from trying to gather anything she could find that she could cook with. Aidan knew of her desire to please Ian and she did anything she could to help. He had been pleased with the fish she roasted for them and Aidan did not once see her smile fade.

  “We have to talk about her,” Ian stared at Joan as he spoke.

  Aidan motioned toward a tree so Joan would not be disturbed.

  “Ye really dinnae want to just bed her
and be done with it?” Ian said to Aidan.

  “No! She means more than that to me,” Aidan answered, and he brushed away an insect that had crawled up on his sleeping cloths.

  “What happens now?” Ian asked as he threw in some dried leaves into the fire and sat back against a tree while the leftover fish slowly grilled. “Ye are nae planning to take her to yer faither, are ye? You know that is impossible.”

  “I have to. She has to stay with me.”

  “What about when she comes to ken of all yer lies?” Ian asked curiously. “Even an angel would be angry.”