Highland Destiny

by Hunsaker, Laura

  New Concepts Publishing

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Copyright ©2010 by Laura Hunsaker

  First published in 2010

  NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others.

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  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

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  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty One

  Chapter Forty Two

  Chapter Forty Three

  Chapter Forty Four

  Epilogue

  * * * *

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  * * * *

  Highland Destiny

  By

  Laura Hunsaker

  (C) copyright by Laura Hunsaker, November 2010

  Cover Art by Melody Lane, November 2010

  ISBN 978-1-60394-470-0

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  * * * *

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  * * * *

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  Prologue

  She looked across the room of dancing guests and swirling colors, and stared into the cold, hard eyes of her betrothed.

  This was undoubtedly the most terrifying moment of her entire life. Her death was imminent, and unstoppable. And she knew. She knew that it would not be enough. Her death would not stop the pain and destruction that she'd so desperately fought to end. Her hopes had crashed the instant she had stared into those flat eyes. There was no hate, or anger, like she'd been expecting; they were just empty. And it scared her. But she refused to let the fear weaken her; she would meet her death with a stoicism she'd never dreamed she possessed. Before she could stop them, her fingers fluttered to her churning stomach betraying her nerves, but she straightened her spine and dropped her hand. With a careful expression of boredom, she walked forward, and sat down next to the man she'd agreed to marry, the man who would kill her by midnight. And she prayed without much hope that her death would be enough.

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  6

  Chapter One

  Scotland-present day 2010

  It was the same dream. Mackenzie was exhausted and jet lagged, and had figured she'd sleep like the dead, but it was the same dream. There was nothing remotely frightening about it, but she still woke afraid. Every time. It felt too real.

  The man was too real. He had cold blue eyes and blond hair and glared at her from across a crowded room. People danced in colorful costumes, but she never could make out anyone's face...all she could see was the anger and hate radiating from the man with the blue eyes. And she was drawn to him like a magnet to steel.

  She'd been having the same dream since she was a teenager, but it still left her with that familiar feeling of fear when she woke. Today, Mackenzie woke up in an unfamiliar room, and to the misty grey light of a Scottish morning.

  Scotland! She was on vacation in Scotland! How could she possibly have forgotten that? The joy of her vacation released her from the annoying fear of a non-nightmare. That's what she'd taken to calling the dream, for it wasn't really a dream, but neither was it a nightmare. The excitement was apparently too much for her best friend Jenna, who was in the neighboring suite, because she knocked, well banged, really, on the door and hollered,

  "Wake up Sleeping Beauty! Don't make me drag you out of bed!!! Our tour of the castle starts in less than ten minutes!

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  Did you know that they've filmed movies at this castle? I want to see the sets

  "I'm up, I'm up!" Mackenzie smiled as she let her impatient friend into the room. "Gimme five minutes, and a cup of coffee...then we can go. Deal?"

  "Deal. And I brought you a cup of coffee." Jenna held the coffee towards Mackenzie, knowing her best friend needed at least a pot to get going in the morning.

  "You know me so well."

  Really it was more like fifteen minutes and two cups of coffee since Mackenzie made more coffee with the complimentary coffee pot in her room. But Jenna and Mackenzie had been friends since elementary school, so she knew it wouldn't bother Jenna in the slightest that they were a little late joining the tour. Mackenzie had even sacrificed her fashion sense by wearing tennis shoes rather than the trendy wedged espadrilles that had cost more than the last tune-up on her car! They hustled off to the lobby, where the receptionist had told them in her lilting Scottish accent...so musical to American ears...that the group should be in the castle's Art Gallery by now, and pointed the way.

  The art gallery was really the second floor of what was probably the ballroom, or billeting room according to the tour guide. On one side was the balcony looking down over the ballroom, which was now a five star restaurant, and on the other side were floor to ceiling bookshelves with oil paintings of every lord and lady who had ever resided in the Eilean Donan Castle. It was a half circle that had benches and arm chairs scattered every so often. Once they had walked 8

  through what Mackenzie thought of as a loft, they approached the tour, which was halfway across the gallery.

  "Wow," gushed Jenna, "I can't believe that we're in a real castle! They say it's haunted by the ghost of the last laird, whatever that is. Supposedly, he died miserable and alone, pining away for his lost love. No one knows what happened to him." She sighed dramatically. "It's so romantic. Maybe we'll meet a handsome prince and he'll sweep us away into a fairy tale romance!"

  Mackenzie smiled patiently at her friend's enthusiasm.

  Ever practical, Mackenzie said, "But if there's only one prince, how will we decide who gets him? Besides, I think the last guy who lived here was a lord or an Earl or something, not a prince."

  Jenna stuck her tongue out at Mackenzie and retorted,

  "Fine, I get to keep the prince since you're being a pessimist!"

  "No, just a realist. But alright, fine, if we should meet any handsome princes here, they're all yours." Her voice dropped to a whisper as they approached the tour group.

  "I only
need one." Jenna's wistful comment was cut off as they were hushed by someone in the group. She stuck her tongue out at his back.

  Mackenzie was in no mood to look for handsome princes.

  She had just recently broken off a serious relationship with her own handsome prince who had been sleeping with his boss for the majority of their relationship. He'd only wanted Mackenzie for the image she presented on his arm at fundraisers. He had felt that Mackenzie was the kind of girl he should marry, but not the kind of girl he wanted in bed. The 9

  few times they had come close to getting intimate, he would tell her it was her fault he couldn't perform, or that she wasn't adventurous enough for him. Eventually they had quit trying. Once Mackenzie had caught him in the act with another woman, well she hadn't looked back as she walked away. She'd been an accessory to him, nothing more. She was tired of being treated like a thing, an inanimate object.

  Besides, she didn't really think that she was all that beautiful.

  She knew she was pretty, and when all dressed up, she knew she could turn a few heads, but her hair was too unruly to be beautiful, and her nose was straight, rather than turned up like Jenna's cute little nose. She was tall, as well. Jenna was a petite, adorable girl who tugged at most guys' instinct to protect. Mackenzie had been comparing herself to Jenna for too long, and shoving that train of thought out of her head, tried to focus on the tour.

  "Wow, who is that?"

  The question came from a teenage girl to the left of Mackenzie and Jenna, and everyone turned to look at the oil painting that was hanging on the wall next to an immense bookshelf. Mackenzie's heart stopped. He was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her twenty three years!

  No, not attractive, but drop dead gorgeous! He had sapphire blue eyes, and dark hair that touched his shoulders. The bright blue was in stark contrast with the dark hair and bronzed skin. He stood brandishing a two-handed claymore, the standard weapon of choice for the Highland warriors, with one leg braced on a rock. His white shirt and kilt made him look like a gentleman, but the look in his eyes was that of a 10

  fierce warrior. It was those eyes that caught and mesmerized her; they seemed to stare right into her soul. Mackenzie couldn't hear one word the tour guide said about him because her heart had restarted and it was pounding double-time in her ears.

  Jenna whispered to Mackenzie, "I'll take him, prince or not!" Mackenzie barely managed a smile for her friend, and just nodded wide-eyed at the painting. "Hello? Earth to Mackenzie? Are you there?" Mackenzie shook off her mental stupor and turned to Jenna.

  "Huh?"

  "The tour moved on a couple minutes ago, are you just going to stand here and stare at this hunk of a man who died like 200 years ago? Not that I blame you; he is totally HOT!"

  Jenna giggled, and grabbed Mackenzie by the arm to drag her back toward the group.

  "You know what? I think I will just sit here and ogle him for a while." Jenna gave Mackenzie a look that clearly questioned her sanity, as Mackenzie pulled her camera out of her purse and snapped a few photos of this handsome warrior.

  "Whatever, Kenzie. I'm moving on to reality. There's a super cute guy who is vacationing with his two roommates, and they are both just as hot. Ooh, and they have sexy Italian accents."

  "Okay, go have fun. I think I'll sketch this painting."

  "And I thought you were the realist," Jenna teased. But when Mackenzie just turned back to the painting, Jenna 11

  grumbled, "Whatever. Enjoy your painting, I'm going to make plans with the hot Italians."

  Mackenzie mumbled something incoherent to her and turned back toward her room to grab her sketch pad.

  Sitting in the art gallery, sketching, and staring into those fierce blue eyes, Mackenzie lost track of time. It wasn't until someone tapped her on the shoulder and said a polite

  "Pardon me, lass?" that she even glanced around her.

  "Hmmm...yes?" Her vague expression focused on two men dressed in period garb. She didn't remember the tour guide wearing a costume, strange. Were they employees making sure she was where she was supposed to be? Where was she supposed to be? What time was it? It looked dark out.

  "Would you be Miss Stewart?" The man who spoke to her was old, no, ancient would be a better word. He was hunched over and his wispy white hair hung past his shoulders. His face was creased with paper thin skin that looked brittle, as if it would tear if he smiled or frowned too quickly. His partner was middle-aged, and non-descript. There was nothing interesting about him; average height, medium build, brown hair. Both had dark cloaks draped around them and black boots that went up to their knees, like pirates, she thought absently. And both had the same excited light in their dark squinty eyes.

  "What can I do for you?" Mackenzie asked by way of answering their question.

  "You can come with us," the middle-aged man demanded.

  "Why? Is something wrong?" Her thoughts turned to Jenna and her Italian lunch dates. "Is it Jenna? Is she alright? If 12

  those men did anything to hurt her..." she trailed off at the looks on their faces. They both looked slightly uncomfortable, as if they were about to say something unpleasant. "What?

  What is it?" her voice strained as she worried about her friend.

  "You shall follow us. My son will lead the way." The elderly man definitely looked uncomfortable.

  Concern colored her tone, "Where?"

  "Follow us," the plain man answered, and he turned without waiting for her reply.

  Mackenzie did follow, more out of curiosity than anything.

  The two men led her to a wall at the far end of the loft in the gallery. But before she could question their sanity, the old man pushed a tapestry aside and pulled on a lever causing part of the wall to swing open. Mackenzie gasped, and stepped back. The old man walked into the dark passage without hesitating, and the other man looked at Mackenzie briefly before grabbing her upper arm and pulling her in behind them.

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  13

  Chapter Two

  Scotland 1792

  The carriage was unbearably unforgiving. The horses flew along the craggy road (if it could indeed be called a road, Mackenzie had her doubts) as if the hounds of hell were chasing after them. Mackenzie sat on a wooden bench covered with a velvet pad that did nothing for her sore bottom as she felt every pebble and bump. "The Princess and the Pea" came to mind, and she almost smiled. Almost. The carriage's other two companions, the elderly man and his middle-aged son, gave her looks begging her forgiveness.

  Mackenzie still couldn't believe it. She, Mackenzie Stewart, born in 1987, who just this morning had woken in the year 2010, was actually in a carriage in the Highlands of Scotland!

  And that was not the crazy part! It was now the year of our Lord, Seventeen hundred and ninety-two. This time, the wave of nausea that encompassed thinking of the date didn't take as long to pass. She was getting used to the idea. Maybe she just figured that she was dreaming. Either way, her stomach only lurched this time due to the jostling of the carriage.

  When the Nutty Professor here and his son had literally pulled her through the secret passage, she had screamed bloody murder. After a couple of good screams, Mackenzie had seen the concern in their eyes, and had thought them harmless. She'd figured them to be part of the castle tour, dressed up in period garb and speaking of Highland lairds and curses; so she'd played along. So, harmless indeed, she'd 14

  almost dropped to her knees as the secret passage gave way to the main entrance. It exited out by the front of the castle, where she had been dropped by taxi the day before. There was nothing resembling the paved drive that had been there just that morning. It must be as the two men had said; another time and era.

  She noticed the subtle and not so subtle changes in the outside of the castle, it looked smaller and brighter. And the sky...it was clear and sunny, not at all the grey overcast sky of an autumn day that had greeted her just hours ago. Then she had been bustled into a carriage, and a lum
p of soft wool had been thrust into her arms.

  "You'll be needin' to change your garments, Miss Stewart."

  The older of the two had spoken first, while she eyed what turned out to be a cloak and gown.

  The look Mackenzie gave them was incredulous. Like she was really going to change her clothes in front of two perfect strangers! Right. They had some explaining to do. So she pulled the cloak around herself and pursed her lips instead, waiting.

  Perhaps sensing the reason for her hesitation, the older man spoke again.

  "Please forgive our methods, my Lady, however, we have great need of your assistance. It was foretold by the stars; the Stewart lass from a different time shall come through the gate and end the curse."

  She played along, "And just how do you know that I am the right 'Stewart lass?' There have to be a million of us."

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  "We know it is indeed you, else you would not have been able to pass through the gate. Our clan has endured strife and war for far too long, and it is for you to be ending." The fevered light was back in his eyes. It reminded her of a religious zealot speaking of his god.

  "You are the answer to the curse that has plagued our lands."

  This time it was the younger of the pair who spoke.

  "How?" It was stated so flatly that it almost wasn't a question. Mackenzie was afraid that she'd been kidnapped by a couple of crazies, what with their talk of the stars foretelling of her little time travelling adventure. But how could she deny what she'd already seen? Was she the crazy one?

  "Why, you are the Stewart lass, it is to be." The younger man answered her again, in a tone that was so sure of the statement that Mackenzie raised her eyebrows and blinked.

  His father took over.

  "On Samhain, or as you would call it, All Hallows Eve, you shall help to defeat the Campbell laird and stop the end of his cruel vendetta against the neighboring clans. You are to break the curse your ancestors put upon these lands. Then our lands shall prosper without bloodshed once again."

  "What do you mean 'my ancestors,'" Mackenzie demanded.