“I hate that yer mother took advantage of my son. I hate that while he fell desperately in love with her, she never loved him. I hate that she told him time and time again that she wouldnae risk her heart again,” Titha said sharply. The kettle whistled, and they all jumped.
Quietly, the older woman removed the kettle and seeped the tea. By the time it was ready, she had settled down. “My son wanted to marry her. Asked her time and time again, and she always told him that she wasnae ready. I knew that she never planned to marry him but she didnae want to lose her protection. Maybe she was in love with Rowan. Maybe she never planned to wed at all. All I know is that she used my son. I’d written to him and asked him to come ty and talk some sense into Daniel. There was another lass in the village who loved him, and I thought they might be happy together. Marcus made the trip, but instead of a happy reunion between brothers, he came across Daniel’s body and ye. Daniel had tried to smuggle Morgan out when they realized Rowan was on his way to see them.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I am sorry, but I feel like I lost both my sons that night. Daniel was carrying a letter. He’d planned on asking Marcus to take ye and Morgan in and return here to marry the other lass. Marcus decided to try and honor his brother’s final wish, but he’d feared Rowan was the killer, and he knew that ye could never know the truth. He also knew that he could never return. I never saw either of my sons after that.”
“I am so sorry,” Kylie whispered. “Marcus was a good man, and he raised me as best as he could. I never wanted for anything, and now I know why he didn’t wish me to look into my mother’s death. He tried to protect me.”
Titha nodded. “His wife wrote of his death, but she didnae mention ye. I didnae even know if ye were still alive.”
“His wife didnae like me vera much,” Kylie said dryly. The tea warmed her hands, and she wrapped her hands around it. “I would be happy to tell ye about him if ye wish.”
“I would like that, and I will answer yer questions about yer mother. I dinnae hate her. My Daniel made his own choices, and I cannae blame her for his death.”
“Father Benedict killed him,” Creighton told her. “He thought her mother was a demon who would fell Rowan.”
Titha narrowed her eyes. “I knew there was something twisted about that man.”
They explained how the father had been stalking Kylie all her life and had decided to try and kill her as well. Kylie told her about Marcus, and Titha had laughed until tears rolled down her face when Kylie mentioned all the ways she’d innocently tormented her guardian as a child.
And Titha told her about her mother. How she’d done everything for her, even if it meant hurting a good man. Afterward, Titha returned with a sealed letter.
“There were two letters with Daniel that night. Both were for Marcus, but one was for ye when ye were older. I dinnae know what it says. Marcus decided not to take it, afraid of what ye might do if ye didnae like what ye read, but I swore that if ye ever returned, I would give it to ye.”
Her hands shook as she handed it over. “Ye may look like her, but I hope that ye are vera different from yer mother. She never did find her happiness. Perhaps ye might one day.”
They left before dark, knowing the treacherous journey back would be fatal once the sun went down. Once again, Kylie skipped dinner. Her thoughts were on the letter in her pocket. After promising to bring her a tray of dinner, Creighton decided to join Rowan and Godfrey for dinner.
He must have known that she wanted privacy to read her letter.
As soon as he was gone, she ripped it open and collapsed onto the bed to read.
29
The great hall was subdued, and everyone seemed disappointed when Creighton walked in alone. He greeted Rowan and Godfrey and his men before taking his seat. Despite the harsh conditions they faced, the tables were bursting with food. What the Erksines couldn’t grow or hunt, they made up with smart storage and trade.
“How is she?” Rowan asked quietly.
“Tired and overwhelmed,” Creighton answered honestly. “But ye already suspected what Titha would say to her, did ye not?” Part of him was angry that Rowan had sent her into that situation, but he understood why he did. Kylie wouldn’t have stopped asking questions until she knew the truth, and she would never have bought the platitudes that most of the villagers were giving her.
“I have spoken enough times with Titha to understand what she would say,” Rowan answered carefully. “I suspect that speaking with Kylie would help her and give Kylie the full picture that she needed.”
Not wanting to tell him about the letter, Creighton just nodded and changed the subject. He enjoyed speaking with Rowan and Godfrey about managing a clan that was so spread out. Armstrongs were almost completely different. They all lived in one main area and farmed the outer limits.
The guards were interested in how Rowan so efficiently defended such a widespread area, but Rowan pointed out that Erksine had only one road in and out, and anyone who tried to come in from any other side of the mountain would end up dropping to their death.
After dinner, Rowan and Godfrey asked Creighton to join them, and he agreed as long as they would keep it short. He wanted to get back to Kylie and check on her.
“How long are ye planning on staying?” Rowan asked. The stars twinkled in the clear skies, but the chill was seeping into his bones. They were all wearing heavy furs, but the other two men seemed used to it.
“I had planned to leave tomorrow, but if Kylie would like me to stay another day, I will.”
Maybe he was just putting things off because he hated the idea of leaving her. There was every chance she would stay, and he would never see her again.
“If she stays, we will look after her,” Rowan told him quietly. “I dinnae know if it makes things easier.”
Creighton stiffened, but there was no point in lying. Both men knew he’d spent last night with Kylie and would spend tonight with her as well. “Thank ye. I do appreciate that.”
“If she is with child, what will ye do?”
“Whatever she wants me to do.” It was something that he’d thought about over and over again. “I would have her by my side, but if she chose to stay, then I would visit my child if she would allow me.”
It went without saying that he would not be able to visit often, but he would not be the man who abandoned his child, nor would he be the man who made the woman he loved do something that made her unhappy.
Rowan’s hand clapped on his shoulder. “She loves ye.”
“‘Tis not enough. Her mother had warned her about following her heart, and now that she is learning even more about her mother, it will only solidify that warning. I have lost her.” Creighton’s heart ached. “All I can ask now is that ye do what ye can to make her happy.”
“Rest assured, we will.”
They headed back, and Creighton went straight to Kylie’s chambers. She was curled up on the bed, sleeping, and clutching a tearstained letter. Afraid that she might tear it in her sleep, Creighton eased it away and sat it on the small table before he returned to the bed.
She was awake now, sitting up and staring at him.
“Ye didnae eat any of the food on yer tray,” he accused her gently as he began to undress.
“I love ye.”
Creighton froze. Was this the time when she told him that she loved him but she was ready for him to leave? “I love ye as well,” he said slowly.
Getting up, she straightened her dress, hurried to the table, and picked up the letter. “This right here is probably the most complete picture I have of my mother. Daniel knew that she was using him, knew that she was never going to love him because she couldn’t let what happened that night go. She couldn’t move on. She lived all those years reliving Rowan’s words and swearing that she would never forgive him.”
She was manic now, pacing back and forth, and Creighton couldn’t quite keep up with her. Reaching out, he grabbed her arms. “Kylie,” he told her. “Settle.”
Tears flowed freely from her face, and Creighton just stared at her. Part of him wanted her to say it again, just to make certain that he’d heard it correctly, but he didn’t want her agony to continue. “Kylie, are ye only asking me this because of yer mother?”
“Yes. No.” Breaking away, she started to pace again, swishing her skirts as she went. “I told ye no because of my mother. Because those words were all I had of her. But she was wrong. Oh, she was so wrong, and I cannae live like that. I love ye, Creighton. Desperately. I dinnae want to live my life without ye. I understand if ye want to say no. I have been so much trouble, and I have turned ye down—”
“Yes.”
Stopping short, she stared at him. “Creighton?”
“Oh, Kylie, how could ye imagine that I would say anything else? Ye have my heart, and I will take such good care of yers. I will marry ye right here and now. Let us wake the priest and see if yer brother and father will witness...”
She still hadn’t moved, so he stopped talked and simply opened his arms. With a huge smile, she leaped into his arms, and, careful of her arm, he picked her up and whirled her around before lowering her for a kiss.
“Tomorrow, then,” he told her. “And tonight, ye are mine.”
“Tonight and every night,” she promised him.
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Highlands’ Deceptive Lovers
Book #1
Highlander’s Beautiful Liar
Book #2
Highlander’s Moonlight Seduction
Book #3
Highlander’s Hellion Bride
Book #4
Highlander’s Lesser Evil
Book #5
Highlander’s Sweet Poison
Book #6
Highlander’s Elusive Bride (This book)
Prologue
The golden sun was rising in the sky. Birds sang and animals roamed about the fields of the forest, happy to forage for their meals and frolic with their families.
But the previous afternoon, a thunderous rumble had made the ground shake...
It was as loud as a storm, but the sky was still clear. A few wispy clouds hung against the sapphire canvas, witness to the carnage that was about to take place below. The peace of the forest was shattered as two angry clans met in battle. Armies made of hardened warriors and ruthless men were clashing. The air thrummed with the angry song of steel crashing against steel. Arrows whipped through the air. Axes were driven through armor and flesh. Bones cracked and death howls rose through the air as scarlet blood flowed as deep as a river across the green grass.
The men were all Highlanders, members of the Frasier and McClearey clans. These two clans had been mortal enemies for generations. While there had been bouts of peace over the years, it was only ever fleeting. Hostilities always erupted again and battles were fought, wars were waged, and there was only ever enough time to heal the wounds before something happened to inspire hatred again.
The Frasier clan was led by Malcolm, a fierce warrior with red hair and a flaming beard. His eyes blazed with anger and he spoke in a booming voice that made the walls of his castle rattle. He was a tall man, said to have the blood of giants in his ancestry, just like his father before him and his sons after him. He had taken up the mantle of war from his father and in battle he was like a raging tempest, whirling with his great war hammer, sending men flying as he caved in their chests. The force of his war cry was enough to inspire his men to even greater heights of bravery and they charged in around him, ready to give their lives for their charismatic leader.
On the other side was Bryn McClearey, a man who was more on the slender build. He had spent most of his life out in the forest, running with the wolves and hunting his prey. His mind was a tactical one and he had a reputation for being shrewd on the battlefield. He fought not just for honor, but for his family too, especially his eldest daughter Caitlin. His eyes were always darting about, looking for an opportunity to strike and prey on his enemy’s weakness. He wielded his sword gracefully, moving about the battlefield as though he was dancing. There was a brutal elegance as he made his way through the enemy troops, slashing and slicing at them, leaving a sea of blood in his wake. Blood and thunder raged in their minds as they both urged on their troops, but everyone else was collateral damage.
They wanted each other.
The rhythm of the battle shifted. It was impossible for Bryn to not know where Malcolm was, as the huge man stood out amongst the rest. His biceps glistened with sweat as he whirled his war hammer around. Bryn winced as he heard the crunch of bones breaking and a haughty laugh. He saw his troops run around and flank the onrushing enemy. It was as though they were trying to hold back the tide, and while he had confidence in his men, Bryn knew that the quickest way to end the fight was to end the threat posed by Malcolm.
Bryn used the bodies of the Highlanders as a shield. He shifted and dodged around the dancing soldiers as he made his way closer to Malcolm. Blood dripped from his sword and the smell of battle made him want to retch, but he quelled the urge and continued on his way, never taking his eyes off Malcolm.
The leader of the Frasier clan was hollering uproariously as he threw himself into the battle. There was nothing he enjoyed more than throwing himself into the heat of war and testing his strength and mettle against his foes. One by one they all charged at him, and one by one they all fell back. He strode forward, marching over a sea of dead bodies, his mighty hammer swinging like a pendulum, dealing mortal wounds to all who met it. But Malcolm’s eyes were always drifting across the battlefield, trying to find his equal—the man named Bryn. He was as wily as a fox, and Malcolm knew that he would have some plan to try and gain the upper hand. He squinted as he looked through the swirling morass of bodies, but Bryn did not appear to be anywhere.
Malcolm wasn’t going to let that worry him though. He continued his devastating destruction and waited for Bryn to come to him.
Eventually, the blade of a sword flashed and Malcolm turned around. Bryn had managed to sneak around and kill the two men on Malcolm’s right-hand side. The blade had caught the sun and Malcolm moved with surprising agility, evading the strike. He swung his hammer back, a low strike that aimed to sweep Bryn off his feet. Bryn hopped over it and Malcolm cursed. The two men glared at each other. Bryn’s hair fluttered as it caught the breeze, while Malcolm’s was tied into a tight ponytail. Bryn held his sword tightly and his entire body was rigid with tension, poised to strike at any moment. Malcolm was more relaxed but still wary. Bryn was more dangerous than he appeared.
“I wondered when ye’d creep up on me,” Malcolm sneered. “Are ye always gaeing tae move like a ghoul creeping through a courtyard or are ye gaeing tae face me like a man?”
“We must take advantages where we can find them,” Bryn replied quickly, his mouth twisting into a smirk, “but dae ye want tae talk or dae ye want tae fight?” His words were met with swift action as he struck powerfully, trying to thrust through Malcolm’s defenses while the man was not on guard. The blade gleamed as it struck through the air and it would have pierced Malc
olm in the middle of his stomach had he not stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade. Bryn cursed and scowled as Malcolm retaliated. Instead of swinging his hammer, he thrust it forward like a battering ram. Bryn hopped back as Malcolm charged. If there wasn’t so much hostility and fury in the air it would have been quite a comedic sight to see these two warriors chasing each other. Bryn was on the back foot and kept twisting his neck back to glance behind him, making sure that he wasn’t going to lose his footing. An arrow sailed through the air and landed by the two men. Malcolm’s eyes blazed with anger. Bryn was shocked by the arrow and his attention was stolen. He failed to see the trailing leg of a dead man, and stumbled, falling to the soft ground. He yelped as Malcolm roared and lifted the hammer above his head. One strike and it would all be over. Bryn could almost feel the weight of the hammer coming down upon his chest.
Summoning what strength he had left, Bryn twisted and rolled out of the way as the hammer came crashing down. Mud flew up as he scrambled to his feet and struck out with his blade, slicing Malcolm across the back. Malcolm screamed in pain and swung his hammer around. The end of it caught Bryn’s sword. The terrible vibrations almost made Bryn drop the sword. It took all of his stamina to brace himself against the painful sensations that ran all the way up his arm. He gritted his teeth and brought his mind to focus as he braced himself for the next attack.
Again and again, the two men had fought, and none could prevail over the other. And none would prevail today either.
Their vigor and their physical strength were in balance as was the strength of their clans. Deep down both men respected each other. It took a real warrior to recognize one and that was what led them to halt the fight. Whoever won would have no men left to rule over...
Highlander’s Elusive Bride: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 17
