Highlander's Veiled Assassin (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Alisa Adams

  Highlander’s Veiled Assassin

  Alisa Adams

  Contents

  A Free Thank You Gift

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Extended epilogue and Free book

  Highlander’s Burning Desire

  Allana

  Nevin

  Also by the author

  About the Author

  A Free Thank You Gift

  Thanks a lot for purchasing my book.

  As a thank you gift I wrote a full length novel for you called Rescuing The Highlander.

  You can get it for FREE at the end of this book.

  Enjoy!

  1

  It was the dawn of a beautiful day and Sarina’s stomach was twisted in knots. The stars had been her companion through her sleepless night and now with the morning having arrived, the golden sun shone down and its radiant light spilled into the room. Sarina’s tawny-brown hair was tied in a long ponytail, which reached to the middle of her back. Her petite figure, common for a girl of just eighteen years of age, was perched on the edge of her bed. She had her hands clasped in prayer, pleading for a release from this fate.

  Her room was in the bowels of the Bashir estate. Her father had been a petty noble with some lands to his name, but he had always been proud of the home he had made for his children. Nearby were the farms and church and a small village that paid their dues to the Bashir family. Sarina was surrounded by people who were loyal and devoted to her family, yet she felt so alone.

  She wore a loose, white nightshirt that reached to her ankles and red rivers marred her beautiful blue almond-shaped eyes—a sign of her tiredness. Her supple skin was pale because of all she had been asked to do and her eyes kept glancing towards the door hoping that no knock would come. But of course, it did moments later, echoing through the room in a solemn thrum like death bells tolling for her.

  Sarina decided that she simply wouldn’t answer it. She closed her eyes and wished for the man on the other side of the door to go away. But the knocks kept droning, one after the other in an endless rhythm. Sarina found it maddening and eventually leaped from her bed and flicked the latch allowing the door to open. She retreated to her bed quickly enough, pulling her knees into her chest and looking down at the floor.

  Thomas, her eldest brother, strode in. Although it was dawn, he looked ready for the day and was wearing his smartest clothes, a sword dangling by his side. Sarina’s attention couldn’t help but be drawn to the weapon. Thomas had dark hair and hooded eyes which always gave off an intense stare. He was well-built and handsome. All the girls flocked around Thomas. He carried with him a small wooden box which he placed on the table in her room.

  “Morning, sister, how are you feeling today?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. He stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded across his broad chest.

  “I am feeling quite unwell. I do not believe I will be able to go through with this today. Perhaps it is best if you arrange another date.”

  Thomas glowered at her. “Another date? Do you know how long it took to arrange this? Do not be such a fool, Sarina. You are simply nervous and you shall overcome these feelings as soon as you are on your way.”

  “But I don’t want to be on my way,” Sarina said petulantly.

  Thomas rolled his eyes and sighed wearily. “We’ve talked about this before Sarina. You are our only hope. Do your duty to this family. Do you not think you owe it to Father?”

  Sarina chewed her bottom lip. Thomas always brought their father up and usually, it worked. But it wouldn’t this time. “I do not believe Father would want this to happen, not if I did not want it to. Please, Thomas, I cannot go through with this. Make up an excuse, any reason, just please stop this before it is too late. This is not the life I had envisioned for myself,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  Thomas scowled and stepped forward. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders with his strong arms, pulling her to her feet. She yelped at the pain as his fingers dug into her skin. They wouldn’t be the first bruises left by Thomas.

  “I don’t really care what you want. This is what Father wanted. This is what the family needs. We have tried to beat that villainous Laird Mackenzie in war and it has not worked. If we are to live in these Lowlands in peace then we must make him an offering and tie our family to his. This is the way it has to be, sister. There is no other. He has already been the cause of father’s death. How long do you think it will be before he kills myself and your other brothers? How long before there is nothing left of our home but rubble and dirt? Then you’ll be taken along with every other woman here whether you like it or not. Surely you can see that it’s best you do this now to prevent all that happening, to save everyone here.”

  His tone softened the more he talked, but his gaze never left Sarina. “Believe me, this hurts me more than it does you,” Thomas continued, “but it is the only way. Father tasked me with keeping this family safe and this family means everyone living under me. I wish that I could marry you off to an English nobleman with good prospects, but we live in the shadow of Laird Mackenzie and we must do all we can to survive under that tyrant. I know you are scared, but I also know that you can do this.”

  Thomas’ grip on her grew less forceful and he began to resemble the brother she remembered from her youth. “Do you recall,” he continued, “when we were younger and exploring the woods nearby? You were always the one who wanted to climb the tallest tree or swim the farthest out or dive the deepest. You were always the bravest one of us and you are the key to our salvation. It is time to end the suffering once and for all. I have faith in you, Sarina. The Lord has given you this task and He will give you the strength you need when the time comes. Sarina, this is a great honor. You are the one who gets to avenge our Father.”

  “You’re asking me to kill a man under the pretense of being his wife. That is hardly honorable,” Sarina retorted darkly.

  “It is the only way to get close to him. Your other brothers and I have thought long and hard about how to get justice for Father’s death and this is the only plan that will work. Laird Mackenzie has the loyalty of too many men to meet him in battle and the terrain around his keep is too treacherous to send a band of assassins in. This is the only way to end his rule. I am sorry that it falls to you, but in this life, we rarely get what we want. I know that all of us wanted Father to be around for longer. He died too young. Laird Mackenzie has Father’s blood on his hands and it is time for him to pay for it.”

  “But what if I never get the opportunity?” Sarina asked. She hated listening to Thomas’ cruel words, but it seemed as though she had no choice in the matter short of running away and taking her chances in the wilderness was an even worse proposition than marrying Laird Mackenzie.

  Thomas threw his head back and laughter burst from his throat. “He is so arrogant that he will see you as no threat. You will have ampl
e opportunity.” Thomas stepped forward again so that there were barely inches between them. He leaned forward and spoke low into Sarina’s ear, his warm breath running over her neck. “Especially when you are in bed together and he is naked and exhausted on your wedding night. Then all you need to do is take the dagger and plunge it into his heart. It will all be over quickly.”

  Just the thought of it made Sarina nervous and not just the act of killing. Her skin crawled with fear at the thought of having Laird Mackenzie’s rough hands roaming around her body like some kind of wild animal. The stories about him were notorious and Sarina was afraid to get that close to him.

  She looked over Thomas’ shoulder to a small table set against the wall. A tapestry hung above it with great heroes stitched into the fabric. Sarina had often wondered if she would ever be stitched into a tapestry like that, but with no heroic deeds to her name, it seemed unlikely. A wooden box sat on the table. It was ordinary, the wood dark and smooth. It was innocuous and designed to get no attention. Thomas let go of Sarina and walked over to the box, opening it slowly and pulling out the sharp dagger.

  “Consider this my wedding gift to you,” he said.

  The point gleamed as it caught the sunlight. Thomas pressed the tip of his thumb to the point and blood bloomed. He gave an approving, impressed smile before he put his thumb into his mouth and sucked the blood away. Then he placed the dagger back into the box.

  “After that, we will come to get you. You may, of course, have to spend some nights imprisoned, but it will be a small price to pay when compared with the fact that you will have rid us of our greatest enemy.”

  “I notice in all of this that I am the one paying the price. How can you be sure that they will not kill me?” Sarina protested.

  “I am the one sending my sister into this awful situation! Do you know how much it pains me to leave this honor to you? I would much rather storm the gates of his keep with an army and slay the man myself, but it would not be prudent to do so. This is the only way and I am deeply sorry for it. I will be thinking of you every moment you are gone and I shall pray for your safe return. Our family has seen too much death recently, I would prefer not to add to that toll. Do you remember what Father told us before he died?”

  Sarina nodded numbly. Her heart sank as she thought about the final moments of her father’s life. Harold Bashir had been a proud man, a strong man, but a wound he had received on the battlefield had become infected and his life had slowly ebbed away. Watching him fade had been the hardest thing Sarina had ever had to do. He’d always seemed invincible to her. Watching him die was a stark reminder that the world was cruel and that good men were taken before their time.

  She remembered his trembling hands as they took hold of hers and his raspy breath as he spoke to her. Tears had spilled down her cheeks and he had wiped them away just as he always used to do whenever she fell down and scraped a knee in her youth.

  “I am proud of you my daughter. You are a woman now. You must do all you can to protect this family. That is all that matters in the end: family…” Those had actually been his last words. Sarina had felt the life slip away from him in her hands, and she had wept inconsolably for days afterward.

  The fear and anxiety in her stomach turned to cold steel. She clenched her jaw and willed away the tears. “I will do this, brother, for father and for our family, but do not think I will ever forgive you for putting me in this situation. Now, leave me so I can prepare myself for the day ahead.”

  Thomas bowed flamboyantly and left with a smug smirk on his face. He’d gotten what he’d wanted, but that wasn’t important now. Sarina had to do this for her father. She walked over to the table and opened the box, lifting the dagger out. She was surprised at how light it was. It seemed strange to her that a weapon that could take the life of a man should be so light and rest so easily in her hand. It was about five inches long with a hilt that fit snugly into her palm. Her brothers would have called it a woman’s weapon for it was far shorter than their long swords and less impressive than their longbows, but it was just as deadly.

  Moving it through the air, Sarina imagined what it would be like to plunge it into another’s flesh. Her throat tightened at the thought. She wanted to get revenge for her father, but she had never been a warrior. This matter of taking lives was never something she had troubled herself with and she had seen the cost directly. Perhaps Thomas was right to want to avoid war, but why did she have to be the one to carry out this deadly deed?

  It seemed as though the hand of fate had given her a rum deal. Even though Laird Mackenzie had caused them no lack of sorrow killing him under the guise of being his wife seemed wrong. Sarina had always imagined that when she was married it would be to a strong, noble man who had ambition and wealth. A man who moved within the high circles of society and could open her eyes to the world. She had in her mind a romantic, charming man; a man who she would give herself to utterly and completely, who would inspire the swell of love and yearning desire, and the deepest passion.

  She had never imagined herself marrying a Highland Laird for the sake of a clandestine mission of revenge. She looked up at the tapestry and wondered about the lives of the people depicted there, if they had ever been forced to do something they didn’t want to do because of things like duty and honor. Sarina wasn’t sure she even knew what those words meant, but she would fulfill her father’s dying wish. He had been a great man and it was a crime that he had been taken from them before his time. Someone had to pay for that certainly, so it might as well be the man responsible.

  2

  “I would think ye would be in better spirits on the day of ye wedding?” Martha Mackenzie said as she walked into the main hall of the keep and saw her son brooding on his throne. He sat leaning forward with his elbow resting on his knee, his eyes looking into the far reaches of the abyss. He wore a black cloak which hung around his shoulders and covered his muscular frame. His long, black hair reached his shoulders and was only a shade darker than his deep brown eyes. He also had a thick beard which covered the lower half of his face. When he saw his mother, Seamus Mackenzie straightened himself up and offered her a weak smile.

  “I know I should, but I hae nae been able tae sleep, thinking aboot the past,” he said, his voice trailing off at those last words.

  Martha walked up through the hall, past the wide tables that filled the chamber. It was the usually a place of feasting and merriment, but now it was filled with shadows and whispers. Seamus’ sonorous voice carried through the chamber, eventually escaping through the high windows. Martha’s footsteps echoed on the stone floor as she walked up to her son.

  “Aye, but ye should nae let the sadness of the past ruin ye future. I’m sure Ciara would nae hae wanted ye tae live a life alone,” she said.

  “I hae already lost so much, how can I welcome another lass intae my bed?”

  “Give yeself time my son and remember that this is for the clan just as much as it is for ye. We can finally hae peace with the English.”

  Seamus nodded solemnly. “Tae long hae it been. I was surprised that Thomas would offer his sister up as a prize for me.”

  “It makes sense now that their father is dead. They nay doubt want an end tae this conflict as much as we dae. And dae nae forget that this wee lass is more scared of ye than ye are of her. Be gentle with her. She may be English, but she is nae a soldier and will nae pose a threat tae ye.”

  “I will remember, Ma. I hae nae forgotten everything ye hae taught me,” he said with a smirk.

  “Make sure ye don’t! Now, gae and wash yeself. I cannae hae ye looking like ye hae just come from battle on ye wedding day. That is nae way tae put the lass at ease.”

  Seamus smiled at the way his mother ordered him about. Even though he was the Laird, she still treated him like a son and, in a way, he found it comforting. It was nice to know that some things would never change because there were so many fragile things in the world, so many things that could be lost in the blink of
an eye.

  Seamus swung his cloak behind him and strode out of the chamber, steeling himself for yet another day. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually awoken with anticipation or excitement. Every day seemed to be the same. Perhaps this girl – Sarina was her name – could provide some spark, but he doubted it. Mostly he pitied her for she was coming to marry a man who had no room left in his heart.

  The people of his clan greeted him with smiles and nods as he walked past. Children scampered about the grounds of the keep. It was a welcome sight, proof that life kept moving no matter how long he brooded. The air was alive with the clucking of chickens and the chatter of milkmaids. The place had an earthy smell about it and smoke from various fires rose into the air. It was his home and he couldn’t have asked for a better one.

  The keep was a tall castle made of stone set atop a high mound. It was a defensible position that had not been invaded since Seamus’ ancestor had first taken it from a violent and cruel Laird. In the middle of the keep was a courtyard where a daily market was held. People came from the surrounding settlements and hamlets to trade their wares and display their skills. Much coin was passed on these grounds and as Seamus passed through, he could hear the hammering of iron on anvils and the shouts of people as they sought to make equitable deals.

  On the outskirts of the keep were wagons and carriages where merchants were staying. A camp had been set up and the smell of cooked meat filled the air, making Seamus’ stomach growl which he ignored. The sound of merry laughter greeted him, but he steered away from the crowds. A few horses were stabled nearby as well. This place was always busy and no more so than today for there was a wedding to be held. No doubt the kitchens were busy with the cooks firing their stoves and making sure there was enough to leave everyone with filled stomachs. His father was likely barking orders making sure that everything went to plan, but all Seamus wanted was to find a moment’s peace.