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

by Lydia Kendall

  The Laird stared at the scant writing and yelled as he shoved the plans in Aidan's chest, “If ye daenae finish yer plans, then I will wipe that smug look off yer face, boy!”

  Aidan took the plans and looked at them. “I would hate for this to get damaged, torn into shreds maybe,” Aidan teased as he held up the plans and placed his fingers at the top and tore it just a little.

  “Daenae dare me Aidan! If ye tear that plan, I…” Aidan ripped the war plan in two. He heard his mother gasp as Ian snatched the torn plans from him in a panic.

  “What have ye done!” Ian yelled at him.

  “What? Now ye know how hard it is to lose something of great importance!” Aidan yelled back at Ian.

  “Fix this damage that ye have caused or I will not be lenient with ye!” Aidan's father snapped at him and he shook his head.

  “I will nae plan this war and nae one can make me do anythin' anymore,” Aidan said as he left the estate, leaving the three people behind to fix the torn plans. He went to the stables and mounted his horse. He heard his father shout out to him as he rode out of the estate but he ignored him.

  The Earl and I must have a talk.

  “I am not hungry,” Joan said as she pushed the tray of food back and the maid picked it up. “Do not bring in supper either.”

  “But, My Lady, you have not eaten since you returned home yesterday. You will fall ill. I fear for your health,” the maidservant said, trying to persuade Joan, who merely shook her head.

  “Leave,” Joan ordered softly as she turned back to the window she sat by. She felt choked by the corset she now wore under her dress. While she was with Aidan, she discarded all of her uncomfortable garments, including her corset.

  The clothes in Scotland were very comfortable, but this is not Scotland.

  She sighed as she shook her head of the thoughts and memories of Scotland. The more she tried to suppress her memories, the more they came.

  I cannot deny that I miss Scotland. Although I was not so warmly received, I still had a good time in the kingdom. Most of my memories were with Aidan.

  Joan snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of someone banging on her door. “"Joan, I need to talk to you!” It was her father and his voice sounded angry.

  “The door is not locked, father,” Joan said and her father stopped banging on the door and opened it forcefully.

  “What is this about you not wanting to eat? If you think you starving yourself is going to make me stop planning this war then you thought wrong!” he yelled at her and she looked away from him, back at the window.

  “Can I get a loose-fitting dress? The corset in this one is too tight,” she mumbled and her words only fueled her father's anger.

  “"Answer my question, Joan! Why are you not eating?” he snapped and she flinched at his tone. “Do you think that boy is starving himself? Do you think he will skip a meal because of you? Tell me what exactly happened between you!”

  “Please, father. You are shouting too much,” Joan said as she tried to blink away her tears.

  “No! You always start to cry when I bring him up. Joan, answer my question and tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?”

  “I do not wish to speak about him,” Joan said as she got off her chair and tried to walk past her father, but he stopped her.

  “Do not tempt my patience! You were kidnapped by a boy I told you to stay away from and you were held captive!”

  “No! No, father! If I was kidnapped then how did I pen a letter for you? Aidan did not kidnap me! I went to him and I begged him to take me with him, he refused because he did not want more trouble between the two towns! I forced him to take me along with him!” Joan started to explain as she backed away from her father.

  “Continue,” her father instructed.

  “When we arrived at Rattray, although I was not warmly accepted at first, eventually the townspeople started to warm up to me and at a point, I didn't want to return back to England! I was never treated poorly in any way!” Joan yelled, surprising her father and drawing the attention from Sebastian who had entered her room.

  “Then why did you come back? You should have stayed with those barbarians and become one of them,” her father said harshly.

  “They are not barbarians! Neither are they savages! They are civilized people! Their culture is different from ours, does that make them barbarians?”

  “How dare you raise your voice at me! I am your father!” Lord Tyrill growled as he tightened his grip on her arm, making her cry harder.

  “Lord Tyrill, please stop! You are harming her!" Sebastian got between them and was able to free Joan from her father's grip. He pushed Joan behind him and held Lord Tyrill by the shoulders. “Please, my Lord, allow me to talk to her. You will only scare her if you continue like this,” Sebastian said in order to calm her father down. The Lord nodded and left after sending a sharp glare at Joan.

  Joan could feel herself trembling as Sebastian moved away from her. “Please, I do not want to talk about him,” she sobbed. Sebastian led her to her bed and sat her down on it. Joan knew she could trust Sebastian with the true version of events and what transpired between her and Aidan.

  “Take your time, child. I will wait,” Sebastian said as she continued to cry. Sebastian watched her carefully and Joan knew she was not a pretty sight given her sobbing. When she could no longer find the energy to cry, she rested her head on Sebastian's shoulder.

  “He was lying to me! All this time, he only told me lies,” she began as she wiped her red face. “He was not a traveler whose master lives in Rattray, he was not Aidan Wilson, he was not on a journey to find his roots,” she said softly, tired from crying.

  “He is the son of a Laird, a Scottish soldier who was sent to Haerton to find information to help in the war. He did not take me because I begged him to. He took me to act as a source of information.” She heard Sebastian sigh in frustration. “I fell in love with him, Sebastian. He loved me too, or so it seemed.”

  “Why did you leave then?” Sebastian asked, and Joan sat up to look at him.

  “He lied to me! Everything he told me was a lie! Even his name was fake! I was with him for over a month and he only fed me lies and more lies,” Joan sobbed.

  “But you said he loved you. If he loved you then he must have tried to explain to you,” Sebastian wondered aloud.

  Ian did mention stopping him from telling me the truth.

  “What I am saying, Joan, is that if he lied to you for that long he must have been protecting you from something. The Scots are very protective people. With my little knowledge of their culture, they are quick to wield a blade to anyone who goes against what they believe in or anyone who gets in their way of achieving something.” She perked up at his words.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I have met a lot of Scots in my life, child. Most were pleasant people, few were the bloodthirsty savages that people paint them to be. All I want you to think about is if he ever mentioned…”

  “A lot of people did not like me. After a few days they suddenly started to accept me as one of their own.”

  Could it be that he had told them lies to protect me from them?

  “Do you think he had a hand in it? I mean they could not be cold toward you and change their perspective toward you in a day or less. I understand that he not only lied to you, but he may have lied for you in a bid to protect you.” Sebastian paused to catch his breath. “Did he ask you anything suspicious about Haerton?”

  “No, he didn't. He knows that I know very little about my own people,” Joan replied, wiping her tears as she did.

  “He must have had to lie to them about getting information from you to keep you safe, or else they might have attacked you, or worse.”

  “But he should have told me,” Joan complained.

  I trusted him.

  “He must have had his reasons. Taking you with him did not benefit him in any way, quite the opposite in fact. His people must have had questions. A
man can be strong in battle, but defenseless when it comes to matters of love,” Sebastian said as he rubbed Joan's back.

  What were his reasons?

  “Do you think I overreacted?” Joan asked as she looked up at Sebastian again.

  “No, child, anyone in your position would be angry. It must be horrific to discover you trusted someone who lied to you more than people you do not trust. Surely you must feel betrayed but part of maturity is to understand people's actions before passing judgment. All in all, I am glad you are back without any injury. Life teaches us different lessons in unexpected ways,” Sebastian said as he got to his feet.

  “Thank you, Sebastian I always knew I could trust you.”

  “You're welcome, my child,” Sebastian said as he began to take his leave. “And about the war, a lot of us do not want it, but it seems unavoidable.”

  “Aidan said the same thing. He told his father that he was no longer going to plan a war for them.”

  “That is more proof that he cared for you. After all, who wouldn't?” Sebastian said with a smile. “It seems you turned him against his own people.” Sebastian chuckled, and Joan smiled softly. “Do not worry, I will find something to tell your father. I do not want to imagine how angry he would be to find out that his daughter fell in love with a man he considers his enemy; the skies might fall.”

  Joan cracked a smile at him. “Thank you.” He nodded and left her to her thoughts.

  He kept me in the dark too much. What was his truth? Why did he want to leave his home so badly?

  He didn't want to fight my people. He is not himself, if he goes to war, my father will target him. I might not be with him, but I do not want to lose him, or my father.

  The Duke needs to know that there is no sense in this war. If he sends a peace treaty, we may avoid all the bloodshed. I must see him at once.

  Chapter 19

  Joan stepped back into a nearby dark room as a pair of guards marched past her.

  I didn't make it this far to be caught.

  “As for me, I am not scared of those Scots,” one of the guards said to his partner.

  “I am not saying, I am scared but…” the other guard's reply fade into the distance.

  She moved out of hiding and rushed toward the guard's supply room. The air smelled damp in the basement but she didn't care. She found the door to the supply room and it was unlocked, as usual. She peeped through the door to make sure no one was inside the room before she stepped in.

  If the Lord found out they left this door open carelessly, someone would have to answer for it. Well, it is my luck that they never lock it.

  She hastily began to ruffle through the arranged set of guard's uniform in search of her only hope of escape to meet the Duke.

  Now where are those cloaks?

  She found one cloak neatly folded on a stool. She grabbed the cloak and examined it. It smelt like dried sweat. She dusted it off as she watched the door for guards.

  She left the room and using her knowledge of the castle, she found the fastest way to reach the gates. At the gates, she noticed two guards on watch. She had planned for this.

  Looking down at her feet, she realized that her dress would give her away. She ripped her gown from the seams at her waist, leaving only her shorter petticoat.

  It will soon be midday; they must take a break to lunch.

  As the bells began to ring, the guards happily left their posts and Joan dashed toward the gates in her dark cloak. She looked behind her to see two other guards replacing the guards on break.

  Lucky me.

  She adjusted her cloak and tucked her hair behind her ears to avoid answering any questions.

  I have not really seen the town in daylight very often.

  The only guide she had were the memories of the town at night when she would sneak out to meet Aidan.

  As she stepped into the busy town, she felt a few eyes on her but shrugged them off as she made her way toward where she remembered the castle was. Half an hour later she managed to find the castle.

  I thought finding the castle was the hard part of my task. Now I have to find a way to get in.

  “Halt! Who goes there!” one of the guards asked as he got up to meet her.

  “I am the Lady of Tyrill, daughter of Viscount Matthew Hale, and I would like to see the Duke,” Joan said, and the guard raised a brow at her as she revealed her face from under the cloak. “It is a very important and private matter.”

  “The Duke unfortunately has no time for women,” the guard said and Joan tried not to reel back in disgust.

  “I apologize, my dear sir, I assure you that I am not a woman of ill repute, I ask to see the Duke concerning his worries about the war.”

  She silently rejoiced as one of them proceeded to open the gates. Joan was led by a maidservant to a room where the Duke was talking with some knights. The maid seemed curious about Joan’s cloak, but she said nothing.

  She was royalty and she knew she would be given audience by the Duke even if it was for a little while.

  “I truly apologize for interrupting you, your Grace, but I have a very important issue to speak to you about,” she said with a small curtsey. She heard him dismiss the knights.

  “Seeing you, Miss Hale, is not an opportunity anyone should take for granted.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said as she straightened up. “Your Grace, I came here with my father two days ago and he proposed that we go to war against Perth. Your Grace, I urge you to consider my side of this story. I was not kidnapped nor was I forced to leave England. I left of my own free will and…”

  “Miss Hale, with all due respect, you are a lady. You should not bother yourself with all these politics. That is a burden for men to carry. You should really not try to interfere,” the Duke said with a wave of his hand trying to dismiss the matter.

  “Your Grace please understand that I speak the truth.”

  “I am not saying that you lie. I just do not want a woman to get in the way of this war,” the Duke said as he took a seat on his golden seat.

  “We cannot attack Perth. They are civilized in their own way. I do know that they are brutal warriors but they—” The Duke cut Joan off.

  “You want to take the side of savages?” he asked, anger clear in his voice, but Joan decided she had heard enough.

  Nothing about these people make them savages. They act like we do, eat, walk, sleep and fight like we do. Tongues, looks, culture may differ and but that does not make them savages with no order.

  “Your Grace, I just want to inform you that they can be reasoned with if we tried.”

  “They are savages! Barbaric in nature! How can you root for these people? You choose the enemy against your people. Haerton is a great town, we shall wage war against those who dare to defy us and those who stand in our way. Rattray is in our way, Miss Hale. Two giants cannot stay in one field. Rattray and Aberdeenshire must fall!”

  “Your Grace…” Joan started but the Duke got to his feet. “What if we unite?” she called out and he stopped in his tracks. “What if those two giants made peace and became one? Your Grace, forgive me if I have offended you with my thoughts, but sending a peace treaty to Aberdeenshire will save us all the stress of going to war and losing lives all because of me.”

  Joan saw him turn to her, the rage in his face was enough to scare her. “Never! Haerton does not forgive, neither do we surrender!”

  “But sending a peace treaty does not mean weakness, Your Grace!” she cried and he fixed a sharp glare on her.

  “You do not understand war, Miss Hale!” he yelled and turned on his heels. Joan heard him slam the door in his wake and she let out a sigh of frustration.

  That was a big steaming pot of disappointment. Now what do I do? What if Aidan does not know that Haerton wants to attack first without Aberdeenshire knowing. Should I send him a letter? But will the letter get to him before the war starts? I doubt it.

  Joan sighed as she walked through the busy str
eets with her head hung in disappointment as she reflected on what to do.

  I wish I could convince the Duke, but he did not even want to consider my opinion. I hate being treated like my opinion does not matter simply because I am a woman. I do not feel weaker than any man.

  Aidan always listened to me but I was too angry to hear him. I could have paid attention to what he had to say and not overreacted. I would still be by his side and no one would be warring on my account.

  Why do I do this to myself?