Highlander’s Claim
The McDougalls, Book 3
Story 1 - Ravished by the Laird
Story 2 - In the Warrior's Arms
Hildie McQueen
Pink Door Publishing, Augusta, Georgia 2017
Highlander’s Claim
The McDougalls, Book 3
Story 1 - Ravished by the Laird
Story 2 - In the Warrior's Arms
Bestselling Author
Hildie McQueen
Pink Door Publishing
Cover Artist: Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
Editor: Tina Winograd
Copyright Hildie McQueen 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Other Works by Hildie McQueen
(In reading order)
Highlander Series
Highlander’s Captive
Highlander’s Conquest
Highlander’s Claim
Moriag Series
Beauty and the Highlander
Lady and the Scot
The Lass and the Laird
The Laird’s Daughter
Highland Archer
The Wolf of Skye
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my wonderful readers and my very supportive family. Hugs!
Ravished by the Laird
Chapter One
Ian McDougall leaned away from his already inebriated father, Laird of the Northern McDougall Clan.
The man huffed. "Ignore me if ye will, but I see how you follow the wench's every move. Ye have since her arrival. Bed her, but do so soon, for your betroth arrives in a sennight."
"I have no intention of bedding Ailios. Unless she willingly comes to my bed, then perhaps," Ian replied watching the laird raise the newly filled tankard of ale to his lips.
"Yer time is short, son. She's no stranger to a man's bed, was married before to a villager."
His father was right. Soon he would be married, tied for life to another. Admittedly, he'd not given much thought to his upcoming nuptials until his younger brother, urged by their father, left with a group of warriors to escort his intended back to their keep.
It was only due to the fact his father had been so ill as of late, that kept him behind. The healer insisted Ian should remain in order to accept his place as laird, if the McDougall died.
Ian eyed his father. The man's gray skin tone and heavy breathing told of pain and near-death. In the last month his father had taken to drinking heavily, no doubt in an attempt to keep the pain at bay. Admittedly, if he were in such a state, it was probably what he'd do.
Not a stranger to pain, having been injured in several battles, Ian always kept whisky in his own chambers to help dull aches and aid him to sleep on those nights he'd been recovering.
Instead of responding to his father, Ian went back to watching Ailios weave through the room, placing food upon the tables and refilling tankards. Although her demeanor remained calm, she gifted the diners with a smile or short comment. He could not hear what she spoke of, but the male whom she conversed with returned the smile. She'd looked familiar to him upon arrival. Perhaps he'd seen her when riding through the village. Strange he'd not bedded such a fetching wench, but then again, if she was married, he'd no doubt kept his distance.
Unlike the other serving wenches, Ailios carried herself with the grace of an upper born female. He turned to his sister who sat at his elbow. "Where did Ailios come from?"
Fiona searched for the wench and her lips curved at spotting her. "Ah yes, the beautiful Ailios Connery," she replied and shrugged. "Her husband, Hamus, died not long ago. She came here asking for safe harbor."
"Why would she need shelter, did he not leave provision for her?"
"Aye, he did, Hamus worked for a long time as the village's actuary. From what I hear, they'd only married a few years ago. He was much older and his eldest son made to not only move into their house, but into her bed as well."
Not surprising given the beauty of the woman. Ah yes, he'd visited the actuary many times. She must have been present at least once.
How had he not noticed her before? Her plush curves beckoned even a near-blind man to reach for her. Long burnished tresses braided and wrapped about her head, gave the illusion of a crown and her eyes, gods, they were the color of the autumn leaves.
As if sensing his regard, her gaze met his and Ian lifted his hand to call her forward. She swallowed visibly, but neared. He found it impossible to keep from studying her swaying hips.
She bent her head and kept her eyes lowered. "My laird, you require something?"
"Aye," Ian croaked and then cleared his throat. "I would like someone to help my father to his quarters."
The golden jewels met his for an instant and a jolt of energy shook him. Ailios's eyes widened slightly, as if she too felt it before lowering them once again. "Aye, I will get someone to assist him to bed."
Fiona's nudge forced him to drag his attention away from the now retreating woman. "Father is not well. Should we send someone to fetch the village doctor again?"
"Nay, it will do no good, you know that." Ian placed his hand over hers and squeezed it. "His time nears, we must be strong for our mother."
Ian tapped his father's shoulder and the laird lifted his drooping head as Ailios and another maid neared from behind them. "They come now to help you to bed, father. Perhaps you should remain there tomorrow, get some rest."
The laird did not reply right away, instead, he looked to his wife who leaned onto his shoulder. The laird kissed her head and Ian's heart constricted. "Aye, I will do that, son." He coughed and took one last draw of his ale. "Hopefully tomorrow will be a day of peace and I can do so. It's imperative that we join with the McLeans if we are to remain safe from invasion by the Campbells. The bastards surround us now and if they decide to attack, we are powerless without the larger clan's alliance."
"It will happen, father, I will ensure our people's safety."
"Yer a good lad," his father told him and allowed the two maids to help him up.
"I will go with them," Fiona stood and took her mother's arm.
For a long while Ian remained at the head table, the food in the trencher now unappealing. Just as unappealing was going to his chambers alone. Perhaps, he could find a willing bed partner for a few hours.
A sweet floral scent got his attention; Ailios was clearing dishes with swift movements.
"Bed her, but do so soon." His father's words repeated in his head. Would she be willing? When she reached for his plate, Ian wrapped his fingers around her wrist to get her attention. "Would you see about my bath tonight, Ailios?"
She stiffened visibly, her head snapping up. Wide eyes jerked to him and she nodded once before hurrying from the room.
Ian waived another wench forward to refill his tankard. A waste of effort. It seemed the breathtaking Ailios would not be willing and he was not one to force a woman to his bed.
Chapter
Two
Ailios's heart hammered against her breastbone so hard, she placed her hand against it. Gasping for breath, she rushed into the kitchen, dropped the dirty dishes into a tub, and continued on outside.
Bent at the waist she took great gulps, forcing the cool air into her lungs. Not him. A tremor shook her. Not Ian.
"What ails you, Ailios?" Cook stuck her head out from the kitchen doorway, her brows drawn. "Are ye ill?"
Yes sickened. "No, I am just overheated," she replied straightening. She would not do anything to warrant being sent away. With nowhere to go, her options were limited. After a few more breaths, she headed back inside.
Time went to fast and just and hour later, the cleaning was completed, Ailios began to haul heated water up to Ian's chamber. Luckily he and his brother Lachlan had designed a pulley system that saved the hard labor of having to carry pails up the stairs. The heated water was lifted by an intricate combination of wooden pails and rope. Heated water rose to the upper floor once warmed in the kitchen. In the bed chamber she tipped the container to allow the hot water into the large wooden tub she'd had the kitchen lads carry into the room.
Once the water level was satisfactory, she placed a rag onto the last container to let Cook know no more water was required for the moment.
Ailios hurried to the side table and placed several drying cloths and lay a large slab of soap on the small surface. Trembling she rushed toward the door, hoping to escape before the soon to be laird appeared. He'd asked she assist in his bathing. Why did he not have his man do it?
The soap thumped onto the floor and she groaned with disappointment. Once again she went to the small table, picked up the soap and placed it back onto and returned to place it back atop the a cloth. She took a step back and slammed into a hard wall of warmth and muscle.
With a gasp she swung around and moved away from him. "I apologize, laird, I was about to leave. Unless you require more assistance."
His deep blue gaze locked with hers. He then looked toward the tub. "Thank you."
Ailios fought the urge to run from the room and waited for him to send her away. Prayed he would.
"My sister tells me you are recently widowed," he told her not moving toward the tub, but remaining stock-still. "How long has it been?"
"Just finished my mourning period, sire, it's been a year." In need to keep busy, Ailios went to the table and straightened the drying cloths. "I am indebted to your family for allowing me to come and work here."
He grunted in response and moved toward his bed. All air left her lungs at his leisurely movements. Ailios forced herself to remain ramrod straight not wanting to show how much she wished to be elsewhere. At the same time, she couldn't keep from looking at him.
When he bent to unlace his boots, she couldn't help but admire the sight before her. His wide shoulders moved up and down while his muscular arms bunched under the thin tunic fabric. Although Ian McDougall was a seemingly reserved man, he desired her. She'd seen the heat in his eyes, sensed his constant regard since arriving at the keep just weeks earlier.
Living in the village after being given to the old actuary as payment by her heartless father, she'd seen Ian McDougall upon his horse more than once from her perch atop the house where she'd spend most of her days. The second story window became her favorite escape from the home where her husband kept her locked in, for fear she'd run from him.
She'd watched for Ian McDougall constantly and when he'd come to the village, her eyes devoured the sight of the attractive man. Never had she seen a more handsome man in her life. Many a night she'd fallen asleep dreaming of him and making up different instances of where they'd meet and have delicious erotic romps.
"I'll call when the water can be drained," Ian told her, bringing her back to the present. "Have a good evening, Ailios." The entire time he spoke, his eyes roamed her body then lifted to hers with an open invitation.
It was the opportunity to make her dreams comes true.
To lay with him.
The man she'd loved from afar for so long.
"Goodnight, Laird," Ailios told him and practically flew from the room.
Chapter Three
The next day Ian pulled his horse to a still and looked down at the village. Both he and the steed breathed with difficulty from riding hard along the expanse of the clan's borders.
They'd spotted several Campbell scouts who didn't bother hiding when he and his men rode by. They did not move to attack nor did they retreat. The situation was becoming worrisome.
Once his clan joined with the McLeans he'd feel better about the threat against the people from the huge clan who's laird made no qualms at letting it be known he planned to take the McDougall lands.
His cousin Aiden pulled alongside and let out a loud puff of breath. "Should we call on the southern McDougalls?"
"Nay, the Campbells may view it as a sign that we are preparing to fight and attack," Ian replied. "I have sent a messenger, so Calum is aware, but I've asked them to wait."
"Yer Da? Should we go back and tell him what we've seen?"
Aiden looked as conflicted as he felt. No doubt his father would have wise advice on the matter, but the added worry could worsen his condition. Ian was not ready to lose his father. Not yet. "We will wait a few days, perhaps the scouts will retreat."
"Very well." Aiden didn't seem convinced, his eyes scanning the tree line. "I've never before seen them act with such boldness."
"Neither have I. Let us return to the keep. There isn't much left to do out here."
Unwilling to remain away from his father too long, Ian rode back to the keep with haste. Upon entering the walls, a young lad came to take his horse. He caught sight of one of his men heading directly toward the vegetable garden outside the kitchens. The male, Colin, stopped and began talking to a woman with a basket. When she straightened, he caught sight of her face. Ailios.
After speaking for a few more moments, she placed her basket down and walked away, the male following. Curiosity stirred, he went to see where they headed. The couple moved to a shack not too far from the kitchens where herbs were dried and entered. He debated to whether go closer, but then decided against it. It was clear what they did. There was no use in confirming it. Anger and disappointment swirled. Yet it was best to know her ways. It made it easier to consider bedding the wench prior to marrying.
Once inside the keep, he went to his father's chambers. He found his mother asleep in a chair beside the bed, her husband's hand in hers. Although the Laird slept soundly, he was feverish by the sheen of sweat on his brow. Ian motioned for a maid who stood at the doorway with a basin of cold water and cloths to enter.
"Take care not to wake him," he instructed and then watched the woman place the wet cloth on his father's brow. He looked over his parents for a few moments deciding it was best to let them be for the moment.
He made his way back to the great room and sat in a large chair near the fireplace. His mother would suffer greatly when his father died. They shared a strong bond, loved each other greatly.
A love like theirs was rare. It never occurred to Ian how rare since he grew up with parents who always showed deep affection for one another. A smile curved his lips. He'd been fortunate to live in a loving home as such. Would he and his betrothed come to have a relationship as rich? He sincerely hoped so.
He straightened when Colin entered the great room and sat at one of the tables, his clothing askew the man seemed more troubled than satisfied causing Ian to wonder if he and Ailios had fought. His mood darkening, he filled his tankard and drank deeply.
One of the serving women neared. "Laird, Cook would like to know if you'd like a repose."
"Nay, tell Cook I will eat later with everyone. Thank her for me." He stood to go outside, the air stifled him, the thought of his father's illness compounded with the threat of the Campbell's imminent attack, weighed heavily on his mind. It was all he could do to keep from rushing back upstairs to wake his father and beg him to get
well.
The fresh air did little to settle him. It was not fair to lose a father who was still relatively young. No matter what front he put up for the clan's sake, Ian didn't feel prepared for the task of leading them, especially not to war.
Yes, he'd led many a battle against rival clans, but now he would be the leader of leaders. The Laird of the Northern McDougalls. Something his father should be doing for at least another ten years.
Ian let out a growl and kicked a rock as hard as he could. It hit the side of a short wall and broke into pieces. A yelp caught his attention.
He stalked to the wall and peered over it to find Ailios on her hands and knees gathering the vegetables that spilled from her basket.
"Are you all right?" He neared and picked up a potato and placed it in the basket.
"Something startled me," Ailios replied continuing her quest to gather the spillage. "A loud crash on the other side of the wall."
"I apologize. It was a rock. I didn't see you."
Her eyes took him in for a few moments. As if able to see deeper into what ailed him, they filled with concern before she lowered them. "I spend a great deal of time out here in the garden. It's a good place to think."
"You also spend some of your time in the herb shack with men. From what I saw, it's seems to be used for more than drying herbs."
Ailios stilled for a moment and then continued picking up the last of the items. He handed her another potato and she snatched it from him. Finally she straightened and lifted her eyes to his. "Is there something that ails you, Laird?"
"Why would you ask that?"
"Because you cried out as if in pain," Ailios replied. "If you would like assistance, perhaps I can help."
Highlander's Claim Page 1
