The Highland Renegade

by Amy Jarecki

  Kennan led the way up the old wheeled stairwell and through a dim passageway. He stopped outside an enormous door of oak studded with blackened iron nails. “He’s in the library. Are you ready?”

  “Is Lochiel armed?”

  “I’ve never seen him otherwise.”

  “Then let us pray we find him in good spirits.”

  As they entered, the old knight looked up from his ledger, which was spread before him on a writing table. “Ah, Laird Grant.” Though he did not stand, he gestured to the seat across from him. “Please sit. Kennan, leave us.”

  The son bowed. “I’ll attend you outside the door.”

  Sir Ewen of Lochiel needed no periwig; his wiry gray hair framed his face and curled just past his shoulders. His mouth was pinched, his nostrils were flared, and his eyes took on the color of coal. “I’ll be the first to say this news brought by my son last eve was nothing short of disturbing.”

  “Was it?” Robert splayed his fingers at his sides to ensure he didn’t have a slip in judgment and lash out with a fist. “Is there any truth to the rumor I heard in Inverlochy that the Robertsons stole four and twenty head of your prime beef only a fortnight ago?”

  “They did, the backbiters. And they will pay. But Kennan tells me you desire a truce. You intend to make Clan Cameron and Clan Grant fast allies.”

  “I believe we would serve the cause far better as allies than as enemies. And word in Glasgow is that James is set to launch a rising if Queen Anne’s Act of Succession is invoked upon her death.”

  “So ’tis true then.” The chief of Lochiel tapped the quill in its stand. “He made an appearance at the Duke of Gordon’s ball?”

  “He did. And he looks well—in his prime. ’Tis a shame we have been forced to suffer the rule of the usurpers whilst our sovereign waits in exile.”

  Lochiel nodded and smirked, his guarded expression softening. “I believe those are the first words from a Grant I have ever agreed with.” But his humor was short lived. He leaned on his elbow and looked Robert in the eye. “Tell me, why the change of heart? It hasn’t been long since we last faced each other in Glenmoriston.”

  Taking a deep breath, Robert collected his thoughts. This was the one question he’d rehearsed the most, and a careless reply could ruin his chances to woo Janet forever. True, at the time Cameron had continually interrupted him, but calling the man out would only serve to deepen their ill will.

  “Even then I had planned to ask you for Janet’s hand. Had I been able to convince you to come inside Moriston Hall, I would have professed as much. However, I am the first to admit that I let you take her away from me too easily. In the interest of avoiding a battle, and to keep Miss Janet from harm, I made a decision I have regretted to this day whilst I watched you take away the only woman I have ever loved.”

  “Hmm. Love. It is such an unwieldy emotion. One that grips men by the cods and turns them into simpering fools.”

  “I do not think I am being foolish, sir.”

  “Och, Grant, you are sitting across from your greatest adversary, in his lair, and you are wearing no weapons. In my eyes, that is the act of a foolish man—a man who would allow the woman he loves to ride away with her father simply to avoid a wee scuffle.”

  Saying nothing, Robert pursed his lips.

  “Nonetheless.” Lochiel sat back and tapped his fingers together. “My daughter is quite taken with you.”

  “She is an astounding young woman. I am honored to have her affection.”

  He smirked. “Did you ken my wife’s mother was a Gordon? She thinks highly of you Grants as well…and now you’ve even tainted my firstborn son into thinking you’re some sort of saint.”

  Pulling on his collar, Robert stretched his neck. “I assure you, I am a man just like any other.”

  “Oh, are you? Ye ken I was fast enemies with your father. I was there when he set fire to the rooftops of my crofters’ cottages. I listened to women scream and bairns cry. You are arrogant, self-serving, combative, and ornery—”

  “I’ve bloody heard enough.” Robert pushed his chair back and stood. Towering over the knight, he jammed his knuckles into the table. “I love your daughter like I love the air I breathe, like I love the Highlands, my home, and the heather when it turns the mountains purple in late summer. But I have never cared a lick about you because I ken ye wouldn’t think twice about setting my lands to fire and sword. You’ve done it afore—just as you accuse my father of doing. I ken your every evil deed. You may have stolen my cattle as well, but I’m prepared to forget and forgive, especially now I’ve killed the culprit who culled both our herds last year—”

  Lochiel unsheathed his dirk and held it aloft. “You, sir, are—”

  “I am not bloody finished is what I am!” Robert didn’t care about the knife in his face. Besides, he was younger, bigger, and stronger than the knight across the board. “I will give your daughter a good home. I will put her on a pedestal and worship the very ground she walks each and every day for the rest of our time on this earth. And aye, I’m willing to resolve my differences with you for that privilege, but I will not sit idle and allow you to tread upon my honor as if I am nothing but a tinker thief.” Breathing deeply, Robert glared across the table, refusing to blink, demanding respect.

  After a seemingly infinite pause, Sir Ewen glanced away. “If I do not approve this union, my daughter will never speak to me again. My wife, who has just given me another son, will send me to the dogs. Christ, I will even be seen as weak in my own heir’s eyes.” He reached for a document and slid it across the desk. “I will approve this marriage. You will sign an agreement that no Grant clansmen will ever act out against Cameron of Lochiel, and in turn, I will grant to you my daughter’s dowry of twenty thousand pounds.”

  Robert didn’t budge. “And Cameron men will adhere to the same truce?”

  “Aye.”

  Robert blinked. Had he heard right? The sum Lochiel quoted was a fortune. And yet he would pay that same sum just to marry his love. Rather than ask again, he scanned the parchment before him. Indeed, the lass’s dowry was twenty thousand pounds. With a sure hand, he picked up the quill and dipped it into the ink. “I sign this with joy in my heart. May the union between our clans endure throughout the ages. And may we march side by side when the time of the succession is upon us.”

  Lochiel held out his hand. “I never thought I’d say this, but you have spirit, lad. Perhaps my daughter has chosen well. Nonetheless, if I ever hear of any mistreatment on your part, you will answer to me.”

  “I assure you…” Robert grinned. “There is no need to concern yourself with that, sir.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Janet pressed her hands to her stomach. Her eyes welled with tears as Robert strode toward her, looking like a bold and powerful man. She dropped the lead line and whip and ran toward him while he unlatched the gate to the round pen. “You haven’t been skewered!” she said, laughing and crying at once.

  “Is that the first thing you say to your betrothed?”

  Her jaw dropped as she drew her fingers to her lips. “Oh, oh, oh!”

  He opened his arms, but she held up her palms. “If you check the windows, there are at least a half-dozen pairs of eyes watching us this moment.”

  “I care not, I—”

  “Quickly. Fetch your horse.” She dashed back to her gelding and checked the ties on her satchel. She’d packed cheese, oatcakes, and wine. “Come, ye beastie, we’re going for the ride of our lives.” Leading the horse to the mounting block, she climbed onto her sidesaddle just as Robert exited the stable on his black steed, an enormous grin on his handsome face.

  “Lead the way, mo cridhe.”

  Her stomach fluttered as she slapped the riding crop and demanded a canter. “The day is warm, and I will take you to a place of magic!”

  More than once Janet had dreamed of taking Robert to the fairy glade that opened to the River Arkaig, and she rode there now. It was always pleasant in summe
r in the heat of the day when midges were less prolific. She took a trail into the wood, glancing over her shoulder to ensure no one followed. Thank heavens her family had left her alone. She would die if one of her brothers came galloping across the lea, demanding she have an escort.

  “Tell me about your talk with Da,” she said, slowing her horse to a walk.

  “We engaged in bit of posturing, but he was amenable in the end. Evidently your stepmother can be quite persuasive with him.”

  “Aye, especially if it means I’ll be out of her hair for good.”

  “I’d like to meet her.”

  “You will. We’re all dressing for a formal evening meal where the main topic will be wedding plans.”

  “She is plotting already?” Robert chuckled. “Your father gave his approval but five minutes ago.”

  “Och, she’d plotted tonight’s supper last eve.”

  “Had I known, I might have asserted myself sooner and saved myself from listening to your father’s opinion of my kin.”

  “Oh dear, he didn’t.”

  “He did. I expected it, though I finally told him one way or another I intended to marry you.”

  Janet threw her head back and laughed. When she was with Robert, no one would tell her how unladylike laughing was. “I still cannot believe it.” Nearly to the glade, she cued her mount for a trot.

  The trees opened to a grassy clearing just below the waterfall of a burn that emptied into the rushing river. Robert stopped his horse beside her and looked to the canopy of leaves above. “This is beautiful.”

  “I love it here. ’Tis my very own secret wilderness.”

  Reaching across, he took her hand and kissed it. “Then ’tis mine as well. Anywhere you are brings joy to my heart.”

  His words brought on a wave of warmth and tingling. “I brought food and wine.”

  “Brilliant. Who else kens we’ve sneaked away?” He hopped off his horse and moved around to help her dismount.

  Janet placed her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve told no one. I even filched the food without anyone seeing.”

  With a low, rumbling chuckle, he grasped her waist and lifted her from the saddle. But rather than lowering her to the ground, he pulled her into his body. “Och, I’ve wanted to kiss you every moment since I carried you down the stairs at your auntie’s house.”

  Grinning, Janet wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into the fathomless silver eyes she’d once thought menacing. “Then what are you waiting for, laddie?”

  His long lashes lowered, while the dimples in his cheeks deepened. Ever so slowly he inclined his lips to hers, building Janet’s anticipation. The first swipe of his tongue took her breath away, while her breasts swirled with longing. Closing her eyes, she reveled in his taste, the musky scent of man and leather, and the feel of honed muscles beneath her fingertips.

  She trembled with need as he lowered her to her feet. She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, boldly meeting his gaze. “I’ve brought a blanket as well.”

  Those blessed dimples grew deeper, the sparkle in his eyes more intense. “Och, you think of everything. But before another moment passes, there’s something I must do. Since your brother ruined it the first time.” The sunlight shimmered in the silvery glint of his eyes as he took a knee and held her hand before him. “Miss Janet, as I sat waiting for you in the alehouse, I thought about what I’d do if your father did not give us his blessing.”

  She couldn’t imagine. “Dear me, you must have been on edge.”

  “Very much so. But I decided whatever your father’s decision, I would do everything necessary to make you mine. I’m only thankful things didn’t come to absolute anarchy.”

  “I am as well.”

  He pulled her closer and held her hand over his heart. “Mo cridhe, I ken we will be the brawest couple in all of Scotland, our children will be bonny and have strength of character, and right here in this moment, I want nothing more than for you to promise to be my wife as long as we both walk these blessed Highlands.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek as she nodded. “As I said before and will say over and over again, I will marry you, Robert Grant, and none other. I, too, worried about my father’s reactions, and if I had to steal away and ride alone over the rocky braes, nothing would have prevented me from finding your arms.”

  She pulled him to his feet and kissed him again, deeper, longer and every bit as passionately as the first time.

  He swept kisses along her jaw until he reached her ear. “Let us drink wine and toast to our union,” he whispered, releasing her and removing the satchel from Janet’s saddle.

  She removed the tartan blanket and spread it over the soft grass. Once they were seated atop, she carefully pulled out the leather-wrapped parcels of oatcakes so as not to break them and set them on a plate with a lump of cheese.

  Robert found two goblets and the squat bottle of wine, which he skillfully uncorked with his knife. “This looks like a king’s feast.”

  “’Tis but a wee morsel, but all we need to maintain our strength.”

  “It is amazing how little we actually need, given all the comforts available to mankind.” He poured and handed her a glass. “To our love. May it stand the test of time.”

  She tapped her goblet to his. “It will. The two of us have already endured many tests and they have only made our bond stronger.”

  “Sláinte.”

  Together they ate, staring into each other eyes, talking about their future together. They could have been eating straw and Janet wouldn’t have minded. Robert plucked a daisy from the grass and skimmed it along her cheek. “Ye are the bonniest lass in all Christendom.”

  “I suppose it would be discordant if I said you were biased.”

  “I am biased, and I am right.”

  She handed him his goblet and took a sip from hers. “Then I wholly approve of your favoritism, as long as you accept that you are the brawest gentleman in all of Britain.”

  He grinned, looking as tasty as sugared plums. “Only Britain?”

  “I haven’t traveled anywhere else,” she baited him, giggling at her antics.

  “Then I must convince you there are no others like me.”

  “Och, I ken without a doubt ye are the only man for me, Robert Grant, and that tidbit of information you can lock in your heart until the ends of time.”

  “That’s better.” He returned the plate to the satchel, then set the goblets and the remaining wine aside. Watching her, he stretched out his long limbs, resting his head on his hand. Janet licked her lips. He looked entirely delicious in repose. Unable to stop herself, she cupped his cheek. “I feel like I am floating.”

  “We are floating.” He captured a lock of her hair and drew it to his nose and inhaled. “Merely the scent of you turns me into a lovelorn savage.” He laced his fingers behind her neck and pulled her lips to his, imparting a languid, bone-melting kiss. “Lie beside me, lass.”

  Before she complied, Janet pulled Robert’s hazard dice from the basket. “Shall we have a wager?”

  “If it pleases you, m’lady. It seems luck is with me this day.”

  “Nines as mains?”

  “Agreed.” He winked.

  With her first roll, a five and a four turned up.

  A knowing grin played upon his lip. “Nicks. How can I do your bidding, lass?”

  Reclining beside him, Janet inched up the hem of her skirt until she exposed her calf. “It has been a long time since I last felt your heart beat in tandem with mine. But this day, I believe yours never will be able to race as fast as mine is thumping now.”

  “I wouldn’t discount it.” Robert glanced back to the satchel. “Are you no longer hungry, lass?”

  She was about to say no when she caught the glint in his eyes. He stared at her with a hunger that had nothing to do with the need for food. The same need pulsing through her this very moment. Since they’d first met in Glasgow, every fiber of her body had been craving his touch, craving inti
macy. Her tongue slipped to the corner of her mouth as she raked her gaze along his outstretched body. “Hungry for you.”

  A deep chuckle rumbled from his throat while the silver in his eyes grew dark. “Come here.” He drew her flush against his body, his mouth covering hers with renewed wildness while his kisses imparted toe-curling urgency. As their caresses grew more impassioned, their bodies melded together like clay. With the past days of suppressed passion boiling to the surface, Janet matched his fervor swirl for swirl while his hands slid down her back and grasped her buttocks. A new rush of desire shot through her blood as she rubbed against the thickness pressing to her mons.

  Robert’s lips trailed down her neck and lingered, plying the tops of Janet’s breasts. His finger circled her nipple. “I need to kiss you here.”

  Breathlessly Janet nodded while she released the bow on her kirtle. In the blink of an eye he spread the laces, untied her shift, and exposed her breasts. He moaned while he swirled his tongue in an erotic dance.

  Janet arched her back, giving her breasts to him, while her need grew. “I’ve lain awake each night wanting you.”

  Kissing and tugging, he pulled her skirts higher up her thighs. “I haven’t stopped thinking of you since the day you stitched my cheek.” His gaze dipped.

  “Aye?”

  “And I’m dying to see you completely naked. Right now.”

  She gulped. “You as well?”

  “Aye, me as well.”

  It took only moments to unlace Janet’s stays, then unpin and unbuckle Robert’s kilt. In a flurry of woolens, in no time they lay in each other’s arms with a westerly breeze caressing their skin. “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “A bit.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I shall keep you warm.”

  As she inhaled his masculine scent, Janet’s insides turned molten. “You’re as warm as a brazier.”

  But her skin grew even hotter while he slid his fingers down her sides and slipped a hand between her legs. She parted slightly, and he teased her with his finger before he kneeled to untie her garters. His nose only an inch from her sex, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Merely the scent of you can bring me undone.”