Heart of a Highlander_Scottish Historical Romance

by Tammy Andresen

  “Keep it that way till yer married,” he said turning away from her again.

  But that didn’t deter her. In fact, it made it easier to talk to him without his penetrating gaze upon her. “I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever be married. I’ve never even been kissed.”

  He turned back to her then before she could blink, his face was an inch from hers. “You’re smart, pretty, and the kindest person I ken. Ye’ll be married before ye can turn in a circle.” Every part of her warmed at the compliment.

  “Thank you.” She found herself leaning closer to him, wanting to touch him.

  “But it won’t be me. I won’t kiss ye and I certainly won’t marry ye,” he rasped. “Go back tae bed.”

  She would have jumped back on the bed at his harsh tone but at some point his hand had come to her hip and he held her close. “I didn’t mean for you to kiss—”

  “Aye, ye did.” His body was moving closer. “But ye don’t want me, ye just want the experience. I ken ye think I’m no good.”

  Her breath caught again as her hand fluttered to his chest. When they’d met a few weeks before, Keiran’s friend, Lord Dumfries, had aided them on the side of the road after their wheel had broken. But Keiran had sat on his horse and watched, not offering any help. “An upstanding man would have assisted us when our wheel…” but she didn’t finish because his hand squeezed her hip tighter.

  “I never claimed to be upstanding. I’ve seen and done things…” He stopped, his breath fanning her face.

  He didn’t have to finish. She knew he’d been in the war. Trembling she lifted her hand until it rested against his cheek. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, Kerian. I can’t imagine how difficult being a soldier was but it will be all right.”

  He sat straighter, no longer reclining on the floor. His forehead came to rest against hers. “I wish that were true.” His other hand came to her face and they sat touching each other in the most intimate moment of Agnes’s life. “You have a chance at a pure life, lass, and that isn’t with me.”

  Then his touch was gone. Laying back down, he rolled over. The sudden loss of contact made her feel cold, alone as she slowly rose and climbed back into the empty bed.

  Chapter 1

  Miss Agnes Burton gave a prim curtsey as she notched her jaw higher in the air.

  “You remember Laird McKenna,” the Earl of Dumfries, Ewan McDougal, gestured toward his friend as he made the necessary introductions.

  “Of course,” she gave a tight smile. Keiran McKenna was the man every mother warned her daughter to avoid. Sure, he was a laird, with a vast estate. And yes, he’d worked hard to make that estate profitable after his return from the war.

  It couldn’t be denied that he was exceedingly handsome, with dark hair and piercing hazel eyes. He possessed that easy charm that could lull a girl into losing her heart before she understood that his grace masked a devilish intent.

  “A pleasure to see you again, Miss Faulkenberry and Mrs. Faulkenberry.” His deep voice caressed her skin as he gave a bow of his own. Then bowed to her mother. The sight of his muscles flexing as he bent might have made her stomach flutter except she knew exactly what he was.

  Keiran McKenna was a rake. An unrepetant rogue. She’d known it the first time she’d met him on a rutted Scottish road. The Earl of Dumfries had gotten down from his horse and helped repair their damaged wheel. Her cousin, Lady Clarissa Burton, had fallen in love with the Earl and now they were married, expecting their first child.

  But Keiran, had he helped with the wheel? No, he’d sat on his horse and done nothing. She’d known then he was no gentleman.

  But he’d proven it beyond a shadow of a doubt when he’d accompanied Clarissa to an inn. With no more rooms available, Keiran had refused to give up his room for Agnes. A gentleman would sleep in the common room. She couldn’t sleep down there and so, they’d stayed in the room together. He’d slept on the floor of course, but it was unforgiveable.

  “And you as well,” she gritted out as she picked a spot somewhere over his right shoulder to direct her gaze. She’d learned from experience not to look directly into his eyes.

  “Agnes!” Clarissa’s voice rang through the entry as she stepped into view on the balcony above. Ewan bounded up the stairs to meet his wife, leaving Agnes to stand with Keiran and her mother.

  Ewan reached his wife at the top of the steps. Then, wrapping his arms about her, he gave her a long kiss. Agnes felt heat fill her cheeks.

  It was indecent of course, such a public display of affection, but that wasn’t what was embarrassing. Of late, she’d found herself wondering what it might like to be kissed in such a way and, if she wasn’t careful, it was Keiran McKenna who she pictured giving her that kiss.

  “Warms the heart, to see them in love like that,” Keiran murmured next to her.

  She gave a delicate sniff. She wished she were stronger. If she were, she’d tell him that he likely had no heart but that wasn’t her way. “I’m very happy for them both.” And she was. No one deserved love like that more than her cousin.

  Ewan began helping Clarissa down the stairs. Their progress was slow as Clarissa half-waddled from step to step.

  “It was good of ye to come.” Keiran cleared his throat. “I ken they’re both anxious about the baby.”

  Agnes’s cheeks heated for another reason entirely: anger at his high-handedness, telling her how her own cousin felt. “I know she is anxious. I don’t need you to tell me—”

  Her mother gave her a sharp look, ending her tirade.

  Clamping her mouth closed, she concentrated on Clarissa, who’d finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’ve missed you both so much,” Clarissa beamed as she opened her arms.

  Agnes raced over to her cousin, picking up her skirts as she went and flung her arms around her. “I’ve missed you too.”

  Her mother followed, giving Clarissa a much more demure and proper greeting.

  But Agnes had missed her cousin terribly. They’d been like sisters. Their fathers were brothers and each having a single daughter, they’d grown up together.

  “Have you had a wonderful time exploring Scotland?” Clarissa asked, beaming at them both.

  Clarissa’s smile warmed Agnes. It had been fun, but the truth was, it just hadn’t been the same without Clarissa. “It was lovely, but I am so glad to be here with you.” She hugged her cousin again.

  To Agnes’s complete surprise, Clarissa’s stomach gave a jolt as they pressed together. Clarissa laughed. “The baby is saying hello.”

  Agnes’s eyes rounded. “That was the baby?” Then, despite herself, she dropped to her knees and placed her hands over Clarissa’s belly. Another movement bounced under her hand and Agnes gave a giggle of delight. “Oh, Clarissa,” she gushed. “How marvelous.”

  Ewan cleared his throat. “It is. I’ve my hands on her belly every chance I get.”

  Agnes stood, realizing that she should have waited for a more private moment. As she turned back, she saw Keiran’s eyes studying her intently.

  “Ainsley and my Aunt Rhona are coming as well,” Clarissa reached for Agnes’s hands as she directed the conversation back to safer ground.

  Excitement bubbled in Agnes. Ainsley, while intent upon getting her own way, was also loads of fun. “What about Fiona or Emilia?” They were Clarissa’s other two cousins on her mother’s side.

  Clarissa shook her head. “Fiona is also expecting and Emilia is staying with Uncle Haggis. He’d never admit it, but he doesn’t like to be alone.”

  “Men rarely do,” her mother chimed in. “What about your parents, Clarissa? Are they coming?”

  “Oh yes,” Clarissa radiated happiness. It was so different from before she’d met Ewan and Agnes was so pleased to see it. “It will be a house full.”

  Agnes gave a sigh. It would be wonderful. She glanced back at Keiran, who was still watching her, and gave a small sigh of relief. At least he would be staying at his own house.


  “Keiran has also agreed to stay here,” Ewan announced to the group. “He’s volunteered to help run the estate while I am helping with the baby.”

  Keiran watched Agnes, his chest tight. It was near painful to witness her in almost any situation but more so in one such as this.

  When surrounded by people, it became painfully obvious how much she liked everyone else but him as her face puckered in distaste at Ewan’s announcement.

  Her clear blue eyes met his again and then she looked away quickly. Her thick blonde hair, tossing over her shoulder.

  He’d not lie, he wanted to bury his hands in that hair and turn her until those raspberry-kissed lips were under his.

  He’d bet she made the most adorable sounds when she was kissed. He stopped his mind because she was looking at him again. So was Ewan, and one of his friend’s eyebrows was lifted in the air.

  Keiran realized he was grimacing and forced his face to relax. It was always this way around Agnes.

  She beamed another smile at Clarissa and Keiran gritted his teeth even while he rearranged the rest of his face into a mask of calm.

  He had to stop thinking about her like this. First because she obviously didn’t fancy him, with one notable exception, that is.

  But more importantly because Agnes was as innocent as they came. He was too dark to ever be with someone like her. The war had changed him. Most likely he’d never marry at all.

  Ewan wrapped his arm around his wife again, looking down at her, with such obvious love that Keiran had to look away. He couldn’t explain why but it made his heart hurt.

  Agnes, on the other hand, looked thrilled.

  Their trunks were brought in and then the ladies were all escorted upstairs, Clarissa going with them. Keiran watched the sway of her delicious hips as she worked her way toward the second floor. She didn’t glance back at him again, which both relieved and annoyed him.

  It did leave him free to admire her backside until it disappeared from sight.

  “Ye look like a wolf after the sheep,” Ewan mumbled.

  Keiran held back a near bitter laugh. “I am the wolf,” he replied. “And Agnes is most definitely a lone sheep. Easy pickings.”

  Ewan did not immediately respond and Keiran finally ripped his eyes from Agnes to look at the man next to him. His best friend. Who was deeply scowling. “Ye’ll behave with Agnes.”

  Of course he would. Agnes was a woman who a man married. “Ye don’t have to worry. I ken who Agnes is and I ken who I am.”

  Ewan gave a nod. “Have ye considered courting—”

  “No,” Keiran bit back sharply. “If ye’ll excuse me, I’m goin’ to check on yer actual sheep.”

  He didn’t wait for Ewan’s reply as he stomped outside. He shouldn’t have agreed to be here. It had been a mistake but one he couldn’t undo now. But to be with Agnes like this…

  Ewan had made great progress on his lands but he was still short-staffed. His gamekeeper was ancient and he was without a shepherd. It meant Ewan himself had been working long hours, but with the baby on the way… Keiran sighed. He’d had to help his friend.

  He rounded the barn and headed toward the fields. He was still in formal clothing and really should have changed before he’d come out, but he’d been eager to escape the house.

  As he entered the fields, he saw the sheep clustered together at the other end. They still had plenty of grass in this lower field and he decided to walk the perimeter to check and make sure the fence was secure.

  He did the full circle and found no weak points. What was more, he was calmer, though his Hattians had likely been ruined.

  He gave a sigh, he’d bought them in London and was rather fond of them. He’d have a devil of a time replacing them.

  As he looked up from his mud-covered shoes, he caught sight of none other than Agnes coming toward him.

  Everything in him clenched as she rounded the barn and made her way to the lower field.

  He stood, waiting for her, legs splayed apart, arms crossed over his chest. What was she doing here?

  “Keiran,” she called out. He should never have told her to use his given name. It did funny things to his insides.

  “Agnes,” he replied. “What are ye doin’ out here?”

  She shrugged as she approached. “After hours in the carriage it feels good to walk a bit.” Then clearing her throat, she looked him in the eye. “And I owe you an apology.”

  That surprised him. He stepped closer then and the breeze carried a whiff of her smell toward him. He’d ken the scent of her anywhere. She smelled of cookies at Christmastide, sweet and homey, and it made him long for things a man like him shouldn’t. “Fer what?”

  “I wasn’t myself that night in the inn. I didn’t mean to try and—” her saw her already pink cheeks flame and he bit back his grin. He’d refused to leave the room that night. He’d didn’t like sleeping with strangers. After the war, he couldn’t abide having men he didn’t know round him when he slept.

  “Oh ye mean when ye tried to kiss me.” It had taken every ounce of his will to hold her at bay that night. Because if he’d allowed her to do it, he feared he wouldn’t have been able to stop.

  She huffed a breath. “Ye don’t have to say it like that. I’m embarrassed enough.”

  “How should I say it then?” He asked, stepping closer to her. He didn’t intend to, but she pulled at him whenever she was near.

  “Like a gentleman,” she made a face at him, wrinkling her nose adorably.

  But he used it as an excuse to get closer still. “Tell me, how would a gentleman say it?”

  “Well, he wouldn’t.” Her hands came to her hips then. “And…he would have slept in the common room.”

  Keiran shook his head. He was close enough to touch her now. He should have slept in the common room but it filled him with a dread he couldn’t describe. Not to her. He’d tried to be a gentleman by keeping his hands to himself. Not that that would keep them from marrying if anyone found out. “I’m sorry, lass. Yer right, I’m no gentleman.”

  She blinked then, biting her lip in the most adorable way. “Oh,” she paused. “Well, I wasn’t very ladylike and for that—”

  “I’ll have to disagree. Yer more of a lady than anyone I ken.” And then he turned and began walking away. Because if he’d stayed, he’d lose all his resolve and kiss her for sure.

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  Tammy Andresen lives with her husband and three children just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. She grew up on the Seacoast of Maine, where she spent countless days dreaming up stories in blueberry fields and among the scrub pines that line the coast. Her mother loved to spin a yarn and Tammy filled many hours listening to her mother retell the classics. It was inevitable that at the age of 18, she headed off to Simmons College, where she studied English literature and education. She never left Massachusetts but some of her heart still resides in Maine and her family visits often.

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