by Madelyn Hill
Table of Contents
CHRISTMAS IN THE HIGHLANDS
Acknowledgements
BOOK ONE
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
BOOK TWO
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
CHRISTMAS IN THE HIGHLANDS
Anthology With 2 Stories
MADELYN HILL
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
CHRISTMAS IN THE HIGHLANDS
Copyright©2016
MADELYN HILL
Cover Design by Anna Lena-Spies
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-68291-291-1
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
What Readers are saying about Madelyn Hill’s novels ~
“What a promising debut novel (Wolf’s Castle) for a talented new author! There is obviously a rich store of possibilities in storytelling ahead.” InD’tale Magazine
“WOLF’S CASTLE is a quick romantic read with a little bit of everything: betrayal, heartbreak, secrets, lies, romance and a little sex. If you are a fan of the historical Scottish romance where the leading man is reluctant to fall in love and struggles with His own demons, then Wolf’s Castle is ideal read for a lazy afternoon.” The Reading Café
“HEATHER IN THE MIST is full of betrayal, adventure and romance in a Scottish highland setting this story is electric! Rogan is a strong-willed lass who keeps her faith in love while Ian is honorable and courageous, tempting both the reader and Rogan at every turn. A number of surprising twists with perilous adventure will have one's adrenaline pumping while the moments of romance filled with passion and emotion will have one's heart-a-flutter.” InD'tale Magazine March 2016 Nominated for the coveted InD'Tale's 2016 RONE Award!
Books by Madelyn Hill
Wolf’s Castle
For the Love of a Gypsy
Heather in the Mist
Highland Hope
Christmas in the Highlands
I’d like to dedicate this anthology
to my editor Char Chaffin.
When I submitted the stories
for a completely different project,
she saw promise and encouraged me to flesh out
the one short story into two novellas.
Her guidance and her editing expertise
have helped me to continue to perfect my writing craft.
Acknowledgements
Anyone who knows me or visits during the Holiday Season, knows that Christmas is my favorite holiday. I love the decorating, baking, and togetherness. So, now with two decorated trees, an endless Christmas village, and trays and trays of cookies, the season continues to be a magical time of year.
When Soul Mate Publishing was looking to create a Christmas Anthology, I was very excited. Although, my story isn’t in the anthology, I was encouraged to extend my first short story into two novellas and thus, Christmas in the Highlands was born.
BOOK ONE
A FAMILY FOR CHRISTMAS
Chapter 1
Scottish Highlands – Gordon Territory
1710
Bollocks.
Malcolm Sutherland inhaled sharply.
His betrothed took his breath away.
Lady Rossalyn Gordon was like the faeries rumored to inhabit the Highlands during the time of gnomes and trolls. Her eyes twinkled with a magical gleam, much like the crystal blue of the firth as the sun hit the cresting waves.
Aye, sparkling gems of blue.
Her wedding gown swept over her curves, caressing her lush breasts, tiny waist, and the slope of full hips. A swath of the clan plaid draped over one shoulder, a true Highland lass. He smiled, more than pleased with her appearance.
“Laird Malcolm Sutherland, I give ye me daughter, Lady Rossalyn Gordon,” Laird Gordon boomed.
The man seemed extraordinarily pleased with himself. Malcolm’s instincts flared. Did they hum because of the beautiful Lady Rossalyn? Or because he didn’t trust her father?
Laird Gordon slapped him on the back. His dark eyes scrutinized Malcolm’s every move as if he were waiting for him to flee or else beat the shite out of him.
Malcolm held his ground and stared at the man without letting any emotion show. He needed to be strong. He needed the alliance and damned if Gordon didn’t ken this fact. And use the fact his clan needed food stores as a way to bargain.
Aye, the betrothal was quick, unexpected by the poor lass, but she’d relented. And, according to Gordon, seemed pleased to be marrying into the Sutherland clan. Malcolm hadn’t been privy to the conversation between Gordon and his daughter. But in the end all that mattered was their nuptials.
His people depended on the alliance and as laird, Malcolm’s duty was to protect and provide.
The lady backed away now, her eyes wary. The black curls of her coiffure slipped out of their knot, tangling around her face fetchingly. A swift shot of lust arrowed straight to his cods. Damn, he didn’t want to feel desire for her—she was a means to an end, a way to secure the future of his clan—no matter how bewitching she was.
Within a thrice, Laird Gordon was at her side. Pain wreathed her face as her father gripped her arm. Gordon looked over his shoulder with an angry scowl, and Malcolm moved forward as he reached for his broadsword. His men came to attention, metal scraping against metal as they drew their weapons.
What kind of man inflicted pain on his own daughter?
The laird held up his hand and grinned. “No need, Sutherland. The lass is shy, ‘tis all.” He winked. “Maiden sensibilities, to be sure.”
She cast Gordon a loathing look. It appeared as if his daughter h
eld him in low esteem. Mayhap Malcolm should have waited for another option, a different alliance for his clan. But he’d tried and Gordon was the only laird willing to agree to the contract.
After a moment, Malcolm slipped the sword back into the scabbard secured along his back, nodding to his men. They stayed their actions, but still stood at attention.
He looked to Lady Rossalyn. Color had returned to her face, shading her cheeks with a rosy hue. Aye, she was lovely—fresh, innocent. ‘Twas what he’d demanded. Gordon and the keep’s doctor had sworn an oath promising her chastity.
He’d not be fooled again.
She pushed past her father and stood before Malcolm, her gaze sweeping over him. He smirked, and her eyes snapped to his face, anger darkening those orbs to midnight blue. Her ire encouraged him. While he didn’t wish to wed a shrew, he was more than happy with a strong woman at his side.
Gordon approached and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Lass, ‘tis time to be wed.”
Her jaw clenched and Malcolm swore she was ready to yell at the man, but her father merely held her gaze, until apparently he’d won the battle of wills. Lady Rossalyn sighed as she glanced up at Gordon, and uncertainty filled her gaze.
Malcolm nearly moved forward to sweep her into his arms. He didn’t give in to the impulse—he wasn’t a romantic man, subject to ideas of whimsy—but for some reason, once he spied Lady Rossalyn he’d been thinking decidedly romantic thoughts.
“Aye, Father, I’m ready.”
Ah, her voice, soft, slightly husky. Sensual.
Damn, he was ready to consummate the marriage before they were legally wed.
She trembled a bit as their eyes met. She lowered her gaze until her lashes cast a shadow against the pale skin of her cheeks. When she lifted her eyes again, resolve and a bit of stubbornness filled them. Malcolm nearly laughed, but checked his impulse.
Now wasn’t the time for laughter.
In a few moments, they’d both pledge to honor and obey.
And then, their fates would be sealed.
Marriage? To a stranger? Rossalyn’s mind raced to find a solution before she spoke her vows.
None came. Quite the contrary, all reasoning supported the union. She only sought a safe place to live, away from the hovel in which she’d faced many indignities. And now one last indignity was thrust upon her by her father—an unexpected marriage. Which was particularly hard at the current time of year and all the memories it wrought.
‘Twas the time of celebration with Christmas fast approaching, and the anniversary of her mother’s death as well. To honor her, Rossalyn longed to share her mother’s love of holiday traditions and festivities in a keep which would appreciate such frivolity. Her father had loathed Christmas and all of its trappings. So much so, he forbade any acknowledgement of the season. And it broke her heart.
No matter, for as she stood next to this man—a lifeline for her—calmness settled in, easing the shaking of her hands. A quick prayer slipped through her mind . . .
Please understand. Please forgive.
The priest started the ceremony, and all too soon, had bade the laird to kiss the bride.
Dear God Almighty, he was going to kiss her. A plethora of thoughts raced through her mind. She hadn’t been kissed since Daniel had been alive. Tears clogged the back of her throat. ‘Twas her fault he was gone; her fault she was in this precarious position and needed saving—apparently by Laird Malcolm Sutherland.
When she’d entered the main hall, she’d nearly run back to her chamber and barred the door. But there was something about him, especially when he’d been ready to challenge her father. His swagger was determined, and she’d been completely taken with the strength of him as he’d pulled the large sword from its sheath.
Now there was a wild look to the man as his face approached hers, ready to claim her as his wife. She marveled at the hard planes of his cheeks, the strong jaw and brow. His hair flowed to his shoulders, a thick mass of dark brown, tempting her fingers to grab on and not let go.
She pulled back, searched his gaze. Aye, she recognized the look of desire and it rattled her to the core.
No matter what she thought or felt, this man was her salvation.
He slowly curled his hand behind her head, cradling her, bringing a sense of security.
A slight grin tipped up his broad mouth as she met him halfway. His lips were warm and firm as they played over hers. He pulled her flush against his strong body, slightly lifting her up onto her toes. She melted a little against the hard wall of his chest. Though a stranger, her heart found a bit of reassurance at their attraction to each other. When his hands moved on her back, then traveled down her hips, she pulled away. ‘Twas too soon, too intimate.
Laird Sutherland—now her husband—brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. “Lovely,” he said in a low voice, for her ears only.
Her heart pattered and she swallowed. The compliment embarrassed her as much as it pleased her. It had been so long since she’d appreciated the attention of a man. Any woman would be thrilled by his words, more so by his strength and handsome face. And how heat coursed through her body after his kiss.
She shuddered as her father abruptly pulled her to him and gave a rough hug. His foul body odor made her gag and she tried to ease from his embrace. Ah, to be away from this man—this wretched, wretched man. ‘Twas as if her prayers were answered with the arrival of Laird Sutherland.
“I present Laird and Lady Sutherland,” the priest intoned.
Laird Sutherland’s men cheered, her father’s clan also willingly rousing a few hoots of approval. Their lack of enthusiasm wasn’t all that unexpected. Busy eating and indulging in ale, why would they care if she were wed?
And all she could think of was leaving her childhood home—leaving hell and her wretched memories, for mayhap a better place.
Her father had a reason to betroth her to Laird Sutherland. A good reason. Regardless, Laird Gordon was an evil man.
And the man who’d murdered Daniel . . . her first husband.
Chapter 2
Malcolm was more than ready to quit the keep and seek his home in Sutherland territory. He longed for the comfort of a clean and orderly household—with his new wife at his side.
He found the stench of the main hall, coupled with Gordon’s slovenly men, putrid. Malcolm held no appetite for the light repast before leaving. ‘Twasn’t what he expected from a clan whose fertile soil and food bounty mocked Sutherland’s stores. With all of their resources, one would think Laird Gordon possessed a thriving, industrious clan who cared for people and territory.
Should he be concerned? Despite all instinct to leave and forget the alliance, Malcolm remained for the sake of his clan. A quick glance around the main hall, and his worries flared once again. Would his new wife have the skills to care for his people? The clan depended on him to make the right choices. He needed a woman who’d be loyal, honest, and dote upon his family as if they were her own.
More importantly, Clan Sutherland needed the alliance, filled with the exchange of crops for his warriors and the promise to patrol the shared lands to ensure a rival clan didn’t attempt to usurp their power. Tempers flared quickly in the Highlands. One never kenned when a clan would imagine a slight from another, and fighting would break out. Gordon needed the help of Sutherland clansmen. And Malcolm had required a wife.
Was Lady Rossalyn that woman?
God, he prayed so.
He kept an eye on her as his men lifted their cups in a toast. She seemed startled by their marriage and her brow creased with what appeared as worry. He’d relieve her of her qualms when they had a moment of privacy. He hoped ‘twould be sooner than later.
Did his new wife fear him? A loathsome thought. He was a fair man and determined not to judge her because h
er sire seemed to be a bastard and didn’t instill pride in his people.
After nodding and offering her a smile, Malcolm left the main hall and followed Gordon to his study. The room resembled the keep, filthy beyond measure. How did these people live among such squalor?
“Me daughter will do well by ye.”
“Aye,” Malcolm replied. She had better, or else he’d lose more than his pride, he’d also lose the trust of his men and their families. He’d pledged to find a solution to the clan’s problems and when Gordon approached him, it seemed the best option for the both of them.
“I’ve the papers for ye to sign.” Gordon poured a tumbler of whiskey and nodded to Malcolm to do the same.
Their stewards had settled the contract before Malcolm had arrived, but there were some final details he wished to confirm and approve himself.
After a quick toast, Malcolm found a chair and started sifting through the papers.
Gordon smirked.
With one hard glance, Malcolm stifled the man’s rudeness. He couldn’t wait to quit the keep.
“Och, ‘tis no need to read them. All agreed upon items are listed,” the laird said as he poured more to drink.
Did he truly think Malcolm would sign the contract without reading it through once again? His instincts hummed anew. What was the man hiding? Did he mean to trick him? His clan?
“I will read it.”
Gordon’s men chuckled. Ignoring them, Malcolm continued through the contract detailing their alliance. ‘Twas a vile situation he’d found himself in after his parents’ death. They’d readily traded with other clans, but no formal agreement was documented. After his father’s passing, Malcolm had found the alliances would no longer hold and his clan would not receive the needed food stores.
