Highland Hearts of the Clan Kincaid Box Set

by Elise Ramsay

  “I really, really got you that time, no?” Cullen was himself doubling over, laughing loudly.

  “Ach, away! Your antics are turning me into an auld man! What’s up with you? Jumping out from behind things all the time!” The initial annoyance that had begun to present itself died away as Grant calmed down and saw the funny side. A smile came onto his handsome face.

  “What would yer big brother have to say about you?” Grant went on, mockingly. It was well-trodden ground, the two younger men in competition with the man who would likely, one day be their Chieftain.

  “He would say,” said Cullen. He cleared his throat and tucked his chin to his chest, turned his mouth down at the edges to make the most of mocking his brother. “I have no doubt, that I am not the serious man I should be!” Both fell to laughing again and left the subject.

  “Let’s away for a wee bit of hunting, Grant. I’m getting tired of it in here today.”

  “Obviously! But, aye, let’s go if you can tear yourself away from the lassies for the afternoon.” Grant winked at him and Cullen clapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

  Annis drew back the arrow and held her breath -- until the moment to release it came. The rabbit was a good distance from her, but she wanted to test her aim. Annis knew she was a brilliant archer, and so did most of the Clansmen. Not that they ever, ever mentioned it. No, it would choke them to admit a lassie was a better shot than they were. Still, she knew she was, and their stoic refusal to pay her even the slightest respect would not change the fact. The release of the arrow sounded like a quick, quiet intake of breath. Annis loved that sound. Not taking her eyes of her target once, she saw it raise up into the air before keeling over. Annis prided herself on a quick, clean kill.

  Jumping up from her crouching position, Annis hitched her skirts up slightly and ran over to her prey. Dropping down to deal with the rabbit, she was blissfully unaware that she was being watched.

  Grant stifled a laugh as the two men watched Annis MacIver fly across the rough, thick grass, holding her bow in one hand and her skirts in the other.

  “That child will never grow up! Look at her!” Grant snorted. Cullen did look at her, with some interest, as she leaped high over a thick clump of heather instead of going around it. It was true that she seemed to take some pleasure in charging about the rough landscape like a wee laddie, but Cullen could see less of the child in her now than he had done previously.

  “I don’t know that I’d call her a child, Grant, she must be nineteen years by now. Nearly your age.” Cullen said, with a conspiratorial wink at him.

  “Ach, forget it, man. A lassie like that wouldnae do for me, I can tell you!” Grant retorted.

  “Why not? She’s a braw wee lass. She’d be able to catch your dinner every day for a straight sennight!” Cullen was laughing, yet he felt oddly guilty at his remark. Although he’d never had a problem before having a wee laugh at the MacIver Chief’s daughter, he felt his laughter fall a little flat now.

  “Aye, she could catch it, I have no doubt. But could she cook it? That’s the important bit.”

  Cullen smiled at his younger brother. Maybe one of the Kincaid Clan lassies would suit Grant just fine.

  “Ach, there’s more to a lassie than catch a man, cook his dinner, have his bairns, no?”

  “Like what?” Grant looked mystified. “Maybe you should take her!” he said, laughing as he shoved into Cullen’s shoulder.

  “Ach, away!”

  Cullen and Grant began to make their way down to where Annis was tying her rabbit to a stick for carrying. So intent was she on her task, that she did not hear the brothers approaching.

  “You need to be more aware of what’s about you, lassie,” Cullen said in a booming voice. Having the intention to startle her, he was pleased with the result. Annis looked up sharply and Cullen could see that she had snatched up the arrow which she had clearly just taken from the rabbit.

  “Too late to defend yourself now, Annis MacIver. And that’s my meaning. You need to keep a weather eye on the landscape when you’re out here all alone.”

  Annis rose, a look of annoyance on her face. Still clutching the arrow in her fist, she tossed her head back a little and looked right at Cullen.

  “Ach, mind your own beak, Cullen Kincaid. Someone might knock it off while you’re busy poking it into somebody else’s business!”

  “Oh Aye?”

  “Aye!”

  Both Cullen and Grant began to laugh, Grant somewhat less kindly than his brother.

  Cullen looked her up and down quickly, hoping that neither Annis nor Grant would notice. Annis MacIver had grown since he had last seen her. Although not a big lassie, she had filled out in a pleasing way over the last few months. Whilst she was certainly unchanged in her behaviour and her pursuits, her manner was somehow altered. The way she held herself, upright and open, was a far cry from the wee lassie she had been. The old childish defiance seemed to have been replaced with an air of adult confidence. In truth, she was still sharp-tongued and cheeky, but something was different.

  “Is that any way to speak to a man who’s just looking out for you?” Cullen broke his own stare.

  “Looking out for me?” Annis let out a peel of mock derisory laughter. “Since when did I need you to look out for me, Cullen Kincaid?”

  Annis’s hair was longer and thicker than Cullen had remembered it. The warm summer sun had lightened it a little too, and it was the brightest golden hair he had seen. It was a fine colour, one that many lassies would wish they had. Although the top was tied back out of her face, the rest hung loose and great thick slices had escaped their fastenings. Annis herself was either unaware, or couldnae care less. Probably both, knowing her.

  “Ach, please yourself, as you always will!” said Cullen. “I’ll nay bother to look over your shoulder for you anymore. You just scamper about like the feral wee beastie you are!”

  Annis was never really sure if she actually liked Cullen Kincaid. Most of their encounters left her with a vague feeling of annoyance. Cullen had always been cocky, even as a wee laddie. That hadn’t seemed to have changed much. The way he stared at her as he spoke, so coolly, as if he was privy to a world of knowledge she’d never be able to get at. Aye, he was cockier than a rooster! Still, as she’d grown older, Annis had come to appreciate the look of him. Cullen was tall and muscular with thick auburn red hair. Annis thought that he took his colouring from his mother’s side. Red hair and green eyes in fair skin. The rest of the Kincaid men were dark.

  “I am not feral. Just because I can do for myself, that makes me feral in your eyes? What a narrow wee view of the world you have, Cullen!” Annis leant towards him and met his eyes squarely as she whispered, “Don’t you ever get bored?”

  Annis was growing tired of the Kincaid boys. Grant just sniggered the whole while, letting the rooster do all his talking for him. Crouching down again, she finished tying the rabbit to the stick. Grant was looking quizzically at Cullen, wondering what it was that Annis MacIver had just whispered to him. Whatever it was, Cullen looked strangely wrong-footed.

  Annis got to her feet and lifted the stick over her shoulder. The rabbit swung gently underneath it and Cullen let his eyes rest on the motion.

  “Well, as thrilling as your wit and banter are, boys, I’m away home. I only hope the rabbit is better company.” She smiled broadly at both of them, enjoying seeing how her comment had left them open mouthed. Even Cullen, for once.

  “Next time I see you, Annis MacIver, you mind I don’t shoot an arrow at you!” Cullen rallied somewhat and touched the tip of the bow he had slung over his shoulder as he winked at her.

  “Best of luck with that. I’ve seen you shoot, Cullen Kincaid!”

  With a toss of her wild blonde hair, Annis MacIver marched away, leaving Cullen to wonder why her question had stirred him so. Don’t you ever get bored?

  Chapter Three

  Kyle Sinclair paced with annoyance in the corridor outside Ross Mackinnon
’s living quarters. It was far too long to be kept waiting. What was the auld man trying to prove? Kyle mused over the fact that this was his first visit to Mackinnon Castle as Chieftain of the Sinclair Clan. Before this, he had always been at his father’s side as a guest. Right now he felt like a child and it angered him. Straightening his thin shoulders and sucking in his gut he focused that anger. He would not be treated this way, he was a chief now and he noted that his father had never been left pacing thus. For a second his confidence crumbled and he almost turned and went then he remembered why he was here. Revenge. Kyle could feel little knives stabbing at his ego. Licking his big, thick lips, he sneered down the hallway. Who the hell did auld Mackinnon think he was? They were both Chiefs of their respective Clans, and Kyle deserved more respect.

  Suddenly, the door to one of the rooms flew open, and there stood Ross Mackinnon himself. Kyle felt suddenly small again as if he were still the wee laddie at his father’s side. The thought humiliated him, and he fought hard to appear poised in the presence of the older man.

  “Kyle, what can I do for you?” Ross Mackinnon’s manner was brusque and impatient. Kyle began to feel as inconsequential as a midge that Mackinnon might absently swat at. With a dignity he did not feel, he strode forward and thrust out a firm hand towards Mackinnon.

  “Ross,” he began, determined to show off his new status. Well, he certainly had no need to bow and scrape before a man who was no longer better than he was. “I wanted some discussion with you. It’s been a wee while now since our Clans have got together. Strikes me it would have been some time before my Da was murdered.”

  Ross Mackinnon was suddenly torn. He felt a little guilt at not having conveyed his condolences as soon as the lad had walked over. It was certainly what he would normally have done. Their Clans had been well aligned for many years now, to the benefit of them both. Still, there was something about this wee jump up that Ross Mackinnon simply could not abide.

  “Murdered?” Ross had been unable to stop the word, to his regret.

  “Aye, murdered. What would you call it?” Kyle Sinclair said with venom

  Ross smiled at the inexperience of the younger man. Tormod Sinclair had not taught his son well in the ways of Chiefdom. He should have been taught to hide his anger better.

  “Well, it was not an unprovoked attack, was it? Now, you know, as your Da did, my low feeling for the damn Kincaid’s. Especially Gunn Kincaid, but I have to say I do wish Tormod hadn’t taken Gunn’s woman. It was his own undoing, and there was never any purpose to it.”

  The issue of Gunn Kincaid still ate away at Ross. He remembered well the slight his grandson had served him at the meeting with the King at Dunkeld a couple of years before. Though from rival Clans, and with a long, bitter history, blood kin should still respect one another.

  “Ach, there was a purpose to it, Ross.”

  The older man was beginning to bristle at the use of his first name.

  “And that purpose was the revenge on the Kincaid Clan, which should have been taken years ago.”

  Ross stared thoughtfully into the distance. In truth, he hated the Kincaid’s. They had shown him nothing but contempt from the very day his own daughter had turned her back on him to marry into that Clan. Ross still felt the prickling of shame when he thought of how he had been so disrespected.

  “Kyle, what is your point? What do you want from me?” Ross gave every appearance of boredom, all the while his thoughts beginning to stir.

  “I think we need a strategy. You know how they marched upon my Castle.”

  Ross noted immediately, the use of my Castle. The lad’s ego was very much larger than his brain. Ross turned to look at Kyle, nodding for him to continue.

  “That show of strength of theirs was nothing more than that. A show! They had nothing more than the element of surprise. That Lachlan Kincaid, all hale and poised and riding high on his dignity. Well, he can only win by sneaking up on a man!”

  “Sometimes that’s all it takes to win.”

  Although seeming to calm Kyle’s raging need for revenge, Ross was beginning to feel an old need of his own resurfacing. Maybe he should listen to Kyle’s plan, whatever it was.

  “Well, he sneaked up on you all those years ago, didn’t he? Stealing the very daughter away from you.”

  If Kyle was trying to rile Ross Mackinnon, he was succeeding. Perhaps, however, not in the way he’d hoped. The older man was angered indeed, but more so at being reminded of his shame by this puffed up wee Chieftain. Mackinnon wanted to strike him and the years of allegiance could go to the Devil.

  “I’m well aware of that, laddie.”

  Ross mustered as much calm derision as he could grasp. Kyle felt the child in him return. Laddie! We’ll see about that auld man!

  “Well, I’m taking the fight to them. On the same terms. I’m after seeing how they feel about a sneaky attack.”

  Kyle straightened his spine and turned such a defiant expression upon Ross that the older man almost guffawed.

  “Well, you must do what you must.”

  “So, I can no longer rely on the support of the MacKinnon’s then?”

  “Ach, get a hold of yourself. I’ll support you when you have a plan worth supporting. Allegiances that thrive are the ones where common sense prevails. I’m no more looking to break the ties between the Sinclair’s and the Mackinnon’s than you are. But you’re not quite your father’s son yet, my boy. They are shoes you’ll have to grow into. Come back when you have.”

  With that, Ross Mackinnon turned and strode back into his rooms, banging the door closed behind him. Kyle was incandescent with rage. He would show the auld has been how a real Highland Chieftain should go on. Kyle stalked away along the corridors of Mackinnon Castle. One way or another, he would take his revenge on the Kincaid’s, and when it happened, Mackinnon would wish that he’d been there to see it.

  Chapter Four

  Annis was having difficulty staying close enough to keep Brodie and Logan in sight without being seen herself. Having watched their habits for a full sennight previous, she was ready to move at a moment’s notice.

  Annis had her bow ready and arrows stowed neatly away, ready to pick up and hurry off when needed. Her quick and spirited horse was also kept in readiness. Whatever was going to happen, Annis realised that it would be away from MacIver Castle.

  It had not been as easy to spy on Brodie and Logan as she had first thought. They were becoming secretive. The doors behind which they spoke were now being tactfully closed. Annis feared this could only mean that Logan had successfully talked Brodie into something that was so dangerous, they couldn’t risk discovery.

  As soon as she was sure they were making ready to leave the Castle, Annis went off ahead of them. Mounting her horse, she sped off and lay in wait in the cover of the trees. Once they passed, she would gently follow. Three false starts had proceeded this attempt, but finally, her plan had come to fruition. Annis could feel her pulse quicken as the sound of clattering hooves approached. Once she was certain of her targets, she set off after them. Brodie and Logan were not moving at any great speed, so she needed to be careful. Annis knew that this was possibly her only chance to find out what they were planning. Ach, Brodie!

  Annis loved her brother well enough, but his stupidity infuriated her. Still she had nothing to take to her father. A brief conversation with him two days prior had reminded her that she would need to find more out before going to him again.

  Her father had been arbitrating some small disagreement between two of the Clansmen and when he’d finished, Annis contrived to happen upon him in the small hall as he made his way back to his rooms.

  “Da, how goes the arbitration?”

  “Tis always the same, lass. In the end, the reason for the original argument is lost and only the need to win remains.” He shook his head slowly, resignation on his face.

  It seemed to Annis that he had always looked that way. As much as she loved him, his acceptance of life’s irritat
ions, not to mention its larger woes, always frustrated her just a little. In truth, though, she had always been glad to be from a small Clan. Some might even call the MacIver insignificant. They certainly weren’t prosperous or powerful and, because of it, went largely unnoticed. Annis could see that this was a good thing. The Clan traditions of safety and community had remained with them down the years. Yet, that clamour for power was not at their heart. The MacIver territory was minute in comparison with the likes of the Kincaid and the Mackinnon. As such, there was no reason for outsiders to want to break down their Castle walls, and for that she was grateful.

  “Aye, I daresay there’s naught in reality for them to argue over.” Annis had no idea where to start this awkward conversation of hers.

  “True, lass. So, what are you wanting of me, girl? You have a look about you. Tell me.” Calm as he was, Gordon MacIver was shrewd.

  “Da, I’m a wee bit worried about Brodie.”

  He stopped walking and looked at her. “Why so?”

  “It’s Logan Munro. I just don’t know that he’s such a braw man as Brodie thinks he is.”

  “In what way, Annis?”

  “Ach, he seems to wield a wee bit too much sway over Brodie. I think he has ambitions Da.”

  Gordon raised his eyebrows at his daughter, in a way she knew of old.