Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1)

by Gafford, Deborah

  Katherine stood frozen in the middle of the room, her hands pressed to her throat, as if paralyzed with fear.

  He rushed in, his bloodied sword held high above his spattered clothing. A movement stirred near him just beyond his reach and he whirled about. It was only his reflection in a large mirror.

  By the cross, no wonder Katherine appeared so frightened. Wild-eyed and covered in blood, he looked like an avenging angel of death, descending into the room to smite her. Lowering his sword, he shoved his hair back from his face and looked at her. Dear God, he'd feared he would never see her again. Joy rushed through him, leaving him dizzy.

  She dropped her hands to her sides but stayed where she was. Was she so frightened she didn't recognize him? "Katherine."

  They dared not tarry. Every second counted. And yet he waited, hoping and praying. Surely she would realize why he had come for her. His chest tightened, robbing him of his breath. Would she run from him? Please, God, let her look beyond the blood, into my heart, and come to me on her own.

  Katherine slowly moved toward him, her hands outstretched.

  He ran to her and clasped her tightly with his left arm. "Katherine! Blessed Jesus, I thought I might never see you again."

  Her voice quivered. She clung to him as if too desperate to let go. "They told me you wouldn't come."

  He tightened his hold. "No man could keep me from you."

  Her wide blue eyes blinked back unshed tears as she trembled against him. "I've been so frightened. Please take me away from here, back to Scotland. You… you may do with me as you wish, when we return there. Just, please… take me away from here!"

  His heart felt as if it would burst. "I will, my love, and you'll never leave my side again. I cannot live without you. I love you."

  For the glimmer of a moment, her love showed undeniably in her trembling smile. Then a torrent of tears spilled down her cheeks. "I love you too. I feared you didn't want me back—"

  "Shh, love. I want no other. Come, I will take you to safe hands. My men wait below to escort you to safety. I will follow soon."

  "No! Alexander, please don't leave me. Let us leave here together. Now. I can't stand the thought of being separated from you again."

  "I will be with you again shortly, my love. But first I have a debt to repay."

  She grasped his arms and shook her head. "The man you seek is a madman. He is evil, the devil himself. Please, just let us leave!"

  "No, Katherine. I will not leave before I send Ja Bier's soul to hell by my own hands!" Bending, he removed his dirk from its sheath inside his boot and held it out to her. "We haven't time to argue. Do as I say. Take this and keep it close to you."

  Turning toward the door, he pulled her with him, pausing momentarily. "Katherine, love, you must be brave and not falter when we leave this room. Malcolm gave his life for your rescue. He lies beyond the door."

  When she gasped, he hugged her quickly then shook his head. "We cannot stop to grieve for him now. Any delay could cause his sacrifice to be for naught. We will mourn him when we reach Scotland." Alexander pulled her into a tight embrace, and for just a moment, his lips covered hers. Then he released her and opened the door.

  Ja Bier stepped across the threshold, blocking their escape. "It would seem, ma petite, it is fortunate I decided to pay you a visit before retiring." His sword already drawn and pointed at Alexander's throat, he forced them back into the room shutting the door behind him.

  Katherine clung to her husband's side as he stepped back.

  The duke looked from him, to her, and back again. "So, you must be the Scot dog my daughter foolishly wed. I did not expect to see you here. But, no matter, you will not be leaving here. Alive." As he finished speaking, the Frenchman thrust his rapier sideways, viciously slicing Alexander's left shoulder.

  Although the attack came without warning, Alexander could have stepped away from the weapon. But he knew with a sense of certainty, Ja Bier wouldn't hesitate to wound Katherine, so he'd leaned into the path of the sword, shielding her body with his own.

  As the blade cut into his flesh, he shoved her toward the door. "Run, Katherine!"

  She flew to the door, then stopped and turned as if unable to run any further.

  He had no time to go to her. Alexander quickly scanned the small chamber, his gaze sharp and assessing. His brows drew downward in a frown. Although he was an excellent swordsman, he was trained to fight with the broadsword. It required both of his hands to make a mighty swing and enough space to do it in. Here in this little room crowded with furniture, his movements were hampered. He advanced toward Ja Bier, and with one sweep toppled the stool cutting a leg out from under it.

  The Frenchman sidestepped in a fluid motion, belying his age. His lightweight rapier slashed out.

  Alexander heard the whistle of the blade as it sliced through the air near his head. He dodged it then circled around the room looking for an opening wide enough to lunge at his opponent. As he moved, so did the duke. Slowly, they circled each other, each looking for an opening to attack.

  Suddenly, Ja Bier leapt to the side and grabbed Katherine by the arm. He pulled her in front of him as a human shield, and dragged her backwards toward the fireplace. "Now, you Scot bastard, drop your sword and back away. If you do not, I will hurt the girl. Do not doubt I will do so. She has proven to be a hindrance to me, as did her mother." To prove his intent, he roughly twisted her arm behind her back and she cried out in pain.

  Alexander hesitated then began to lower his sword.

  "No!" Katherine shouted. "Don't give in to him. He won't do it. He needs me for his claim to lands here."

  Again, the duke viciously twisted her arm behind her. "Shut up, bitch! I'll do as I please with you. Now, MacGregor, drop your sword and step away."

  Alexander saw the insane gleam in the Frenchman's eyes. The bastard was enjoying causing her pain. He'd seen such a look on battle-crazed warriors, caught up by blood lust. They fought with no other idea but to kill anyone in their way. Dear God, Ja Bier was perfectly capable of killing her. His kind thought nothing of it.

  Slowly, keeping his upper body straight, Alexander bent his knees and placed his sword on the floor in front of him never taking his gaze from his enemy.

  The duke's eyes narrowed above his tight-lipped smile. "Now, step away from it."

  Katherine screamed, "No, Alexander! He'll kill you!"

  Ja Bier viciously threw her against the edge of the fireplace and advanced toward him, as he stood empty-handed several feet from his sword. The crazed man sneered, "You barbarians do not even know how to fight like men. Look how easily you give up to save an insignificant girl."

  Katherine lay crumpled in a heap behind Ja Bier, apparently stunned by the impact of hitting the hearth. As the duke walked away from her, Alexander saw her try to stand, fumbling with the folds of her skirts. He jerked his gaze from her as the Frenchman lunged at him.

  Suddenly, Ja Bier bellowed and whirled around with Alexander's dirk buried in his shoulder. Raging, he stumbled toward Katherine, his sword raised.

  Alexander felt his life flash before his eyes. God, no! Don't let Katherine be killed as he watched just as his friend had been! Yelling, he ran toward the Frenchman with a speed known of desperation. As he moved, he pulled Malcolm's sword from beneath his plaid. Raising the claymore, he lashed out as he saw the rapier arc downwards, toward Katherine.

  The bastard's blade never finished its deadly path.

  With a momentous leap, Alexander reached him and plunged Malcolm's sword into Ja Bier's neck, then onward, severing the duke's sword arm from his body. What was left of Ja Bier fell to the floor at his feet.

  Without pausing, he sheathed Malcolm's sword and bent over Katherine. Her closed eyes and pallid face proved she had fainted. "God be thanked! You'll never see this carnage in your memory." Scooping her up in his arms, he quickly strode over to his own sword. Holding her to him with one arm, he retrieved it just as the door opened at the point of a long bla
de.

  Two MacGregor men rushed in, their swords raised. He spoke quickly. "Lads, our debts here are paid. Bring Malcolm with you. Let us leave this bastard's house of horror." Holding Katherine tightly to him, he ran down the corridor to the stairwell, vaulted down the stairs and out the front door.

  He gently laid her in the arms of one of his men waiting with the horses and climbed into the saddle. As he reached down for her, he heard loud voices coming from the doorway of the manor.

  A cluster of servants stood in the doorway. Although poorly armed, it appeared they meant to give resistance to his men as they approached.

  Hampered by their precious burden, the MacGregor men carried Malcolm's body toward the armed group of servants.

  Alexander yelled down to the man holding Katherine. "Protect her with your life!" Then he leapt from his saddle. As his feet hit the ground, his voice pierced the air with the MacGregor battle cry,"Ard-Coille! Ard-Coille!"

  The servants looked to the front drive and fell back as he hurtled toward them brandishing his broadsword. Reaching the doorway, he commanded, "Stand back and let my men pass. They mean you no harm. We came to rescue our own and avenge the death done to us by your master. Let us leave in peace and no harm will come to you."

  Uncertain, the armed servants continued to stand together in the doorway, but didn't advance on his men. A young servant girl stepped forward. She looked at Alexander and spoke hesitantly. "Monsieur, are you the husband of the mademoiselle?"

  "Aye."

  The girl turned away from his gaze and rubbed a large bruise on the side of her face. She held her palms out to the other servants. "Oui, let them leave. The Duc meant to do her harm, as we all feared. We had no power to stop his evil ways and the matter has been taken out of our hands. It is better this way." Nodding shamefacedly, the people pointed their weapons to the floor and stepped back.

  The Scots carried their fallen friend past them, out into the crisp air. Outside, the dark of night had lessened to a shade of pale gray as the sun began its daily zenith to the heavens. Alexander stepped forward and helped his men carry Malcolm's body to the man's horse, then strapped it securely to the saddle, covering him with a MacGregor tartan.

  Then he looked toward his own mount. Katherine and his man were not there. Where were they? He darted an anxious glance across the front lawn, then sighed. She lay propped against a distant tree out of harm's way. The Scot who stood in front of her held his sword outstretched and ready.

  Alexander walked over to them. He nodded as the man lowered his blade. "You did well, lad." As he gathered Katherine into his arms, she awakened and looked up at him, fear and question shining in her eyes.

  He smiled down at her and whispered. "Shh, Mo cridhe. The danger is over now. We will leave this madness behind us and sail home to Scotland." Gently, he brushed back a lock of her hair. "Lass, I vowed to God to love and cherish you if he would but give me another chance. I shall spend the rest of my life fulfilling that oath." Then he kissed her tenderly, promising his love for the rest of time.

  Epilogue

  Castle Ironwood, Scotland 1504

  Angus paced the floor in the great hall. "God's blood, I canna stand much more of this."

  Ian poured more ale into both of their mugs. "Sit down, mon, and have another drink." He nodded as his friend flopped down into a chair beside him. "Your daughter is strong and Elsa and Monique know what to do. She will be fine. It just takes time." Ian grinned. "I went through this twice before and I tell you, you must learn to wait calmly."

  "Dinna tell me you aren't worried. 'Tis your grandchild too. Alexander was right to stay with Katherine. At least he knows what is happening."

  Ian nodded. "I heard him tell Elsa he was staying whether she wanted him there or no. He vowed he wouldn't let Katherine go through the birthing without him. 'Tis the first time I have e'er seen Elsa allow it."

  All at once, a servant dropped a large pewter tray with a resounding clang and Ian jumped, spilling his drink down his shirt.

  Angus burst out laughing. "'Tis a shame I dinna have yer nerves of steel."

  Ian grinned. "Aye, I'm a rock. Come, let us go upstairs. Perhaps we'll hear something to allay our fears."

  Monique met them as they reached the top of the steps and kissed Angus on the cheek. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she led them into the birthing room. "My lords, you have a fine strong grandson."

  Katherine's face was covered in sweat and her hair was tossed in disarray, but she smiled as she saw her da and Ian enter. She clasped the small squirming bundle wrapped in MacGregor tartan to her breast and wearily smiled up at Alexander. "My love, take our son and introduce him to his grandsires."

  He leaned forward and gently kissed her. "I love you, Katherine MacGregor. Thank you for our son. He's a braw, bonnie lad and I will cherish him as I do you." Lifting the tiny infant into his arms, he proudly carried him over to the other men.

  Katherine watched as Alexander tenderly drew back part of the tartan from around their son's tiny face. Even from across the room, the babe's red burnished hair shone with the same highlights as his.

  Suddenly, the babe let out a healthy wail of displeasure.

  "Will you listen to him, now?" Angus asked. "He has a strong sure voice already."

  Ian smiled. "Aye, he'll have plenty of wind to play the pipes when he's a wee bit older."

  Alexander turned toward Katherine as the cries grew louder. "Right now I think the lad is telling us he's hungry."

  After he placed their son back in her arms, the babe rooted around searching for nourishment. She tenderly guided him to her breast and smiled as he began to suckle.

  Alexander knelt beside her. His voice deepened with emotion as he spoke. "Mo cridhe, what would you have us name him?"

  She gazed at her beloved husband and son and her heart overflowed with happiness. "Ah, my love, no other name would do for our first born but Alexander Malcolm MacGregor. In time, we'll give him many brothers and sisters and our love will live on, forever, through them."

  ####

  If you enjoyed Highlander's Bride, be sure to read Deborah Gafford's second book in her HEART OF THE HIGHLANDER SERIES, The Talisman. The third book in the series, Highland Betrayal, is scheduled for the fall of 2013.

  Besides historical romance, Deborah Gafford is known for writing light-hearted contemporary romantic comedy that will leave your sides aching from laughter. If you love romance with a funny side, then her romantic comedies are for you!

  Her romantic comedy, You're in Good Hands with Al Tate, is available online in print and ebook format. Her upcoming romantic comedy, Nest Egg Cowboy, is scheduled for the fall of 2013.

  For more information, to read book excerpts and view book trailer videos, visit the author's website and sign up for her newsletter.

  Deborah Gafford's books are available online at fine book retailers everywhere.

  HEART OF THE HIGHLANDER SERIES

  and

  ROMANTIC COMEDY

  www.deborahgafford.com

  *Continue reading for an excerpt from The Talisman.

  Excerpt from The Talisman

  by Deborah Gafford

  Scottish Highlands A.D. 1507

  A shrill scream pierced the quiet of the Highland forest startling Ailis O'Brien. That was her sister Jenny's voice! Dropping the firewood she'd gathered in an old blanket, Ailis ran back through the woods toward the traveling wagon she shared with her father and sister.

  The fading light of twilight hampered her as she hurried through the thick undergrowth. Limbs and roots appeared out of nowhere slowing her progress. A fallen tree branch snagged her skirt causing her to fall. The tumble knocked the air from her, and she lay there gasping, desperately trying to suck in enough air to move as the screaming continued.

  When she was able to breathe again, she crawled to her feet and tugged at her skirt but it would not come loose. Biting her lip, she leaned forward, grasped her skirt in her fists and yanked. The sound of tea
ring fabric gave her little warning before she flew backward landing in bracken and nettles. She barely noticed the sting of the thorny barbs as she rolled to her side and forced herself upright. Her torn skirt flapped around her legs but it didn't matter.

  All she cared about was getting to Da and Jenny. She broke into a stumbling run toward the sound of her sister's voice.

  The screams stopped abruptly and the sudden silence filled Ailis with panic. The encroaching darkness fed her fear and she could not run through the forest fast enough. Why, in God's name, could she not move any faster?

  A flickering light glowed through the trees ahead. Flames lit the area as she burst free of the forest and ran into the clearing where her family had made camp for the night. The blaze in front of her was much too large for their small campfire. Sweet Mother Mary, their wagon was on fire!

  For a moment, the silence of the night was broken only by the sharp snap and crackle of flames as they began to climb up the front end of the wagon. Their only horse must have broken free of its reins for it was nowhere in sight.

  Suddenly, she heard a man's harsh shout and the sound of a horse's hooves retreating in the distance. Jerking her gaze toward the sound, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark haired man in a tartan plaid but it was too dark to see clearly.

  Ailis glanced frantically around the empty campsite looking for her father and sister. Praying they were safe, she ran toward the burning wagon. "Da, Jenny, where are you?"

  Her heart pounded in her throat as she forced herself to climb into the back of the burning wagon to search for her family. She had only taken a few steps when she stumbled and tripped over something in her path. She looked down. Her father's body lay in a crumpled heap. "Da, get up!"

  Grabbing his tunic to pull him to safety, she felt a sticky wetness. Lifting her hands, she stared down at her fingers. They were coated with blood. Frantically, she shook his shoulder trying to rouse him and called to him again.