Taken by her Highland Enemy: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Deceitful Lassies Book 2)

by Kenna Kendrick

  She replied, “Well, now is the time. Talk to him before you enter into the village when he will again be with his wife. I am certain he will be busy then.”

  “That is a good plan, lass.” Slowing the company down, he called to Sean, “Brother! Can we speak for a moment? We can send the others ahead.”

  “Aye, of course. Go on, Scots! Return tae yer families! We shall be there soon, and what a celebration we shall have!” Cheering, the others rode on ahead, and followed by Eamon’s men. He knew they would be most welcome.

  Slowing, Eamon and Sean descended from their horses, and Isabelle stayed atop Aine, not wanting to intrude too much upon the reunion of brothers. Sean walked up to Eamon and said, “Ye are right tae stop me now afore we got lost in drink and celebration. I have thought about what tae say these last hours. Ye have done me a great service, Eamon. I dinnae ken how I could thank ye.”

  Eamon smiled. “Sean, it is what I owed ye after all. I dinnae need thanks, but I did hope that we could put the past behind us now and be brothers once again.”

  Sean laughed. “And so it shall be! Lord knows we have punished one another enough.”

  “We each have scars now tae prove our loyalty tae each other.”

  “Aye. Come. Let us see Rose and make amends. We will break bread taegether in a long-awaited reunion. Yer homecoming and our victory over evil!”

  Eamon shook his brother’s hand, and then they wrapped each other in a warm embrace. Isabelle looked on, a tear glistening in her eye.

  Sean lowered his voice, but Isabelle could still hear him. “Ye have found a good woman, Eamon. She loves ye with everything she has. Ye were in her thoughts in her last moments.”

  Eamon’s smile was wide. “I ken. I cannae imagine how lucky I am.”

  “For an ugly bastard like ye,” Sean laughed, and jumped atop his horse, racing off through the woods.

  Rushing to Aine’s side, Eamon hopped on his horse again, and Isabelle chuckled at the boyishness of their race. She held on tightly as they rushed through the forest, seeing the trees whoosh by happily as they crested the top of the hill and finally entered into the tiny village.

  Her heart was light. Even though this was not her home, it felt as if it was, with the people she loved around her and a future full of possibilities that did not involve lack of love or entrapment. Eamon helped her down, and with excitement, she asked, “Show me Rose’s house. I am so eager to meet her, and besides, I need to see Arya!”

  “All right, lass,” he smiled, taking his hand in hers. Isabelle watched as Sean rushed towards a small hut, and burst through the door, calling out a name. She and Eamon followed behind him, but they remained outside, wanting to give the couple their space.

  “Sean?” She could hear a woman’s voice and then the happy embrace of a married couple. After a few silent moments, Rose emerged holding Sean’s hand, and Isabelle was amazed at her rugged, Scottish beauty. Her face was bright with happiness and relief.

  Rose leaned up to kiss Eamon on the cheek. “Eamon, ye are a true brother. Ye have brought my love back tae me, just as ye promised. He can now be a father tae his child because of ye. Thank ye.”

  Tears were in her eyes, and Isabelle tried to keep herself from crying. The scene was so touching and sweet. She realized she had not seen such love before between a couple. Rose turned to Isabelle, and Eamon said, “Rose, this is Isabelle. This is my own love, even if she is a Sassenach.”

  Rose beamed and took Isabelle’s hands in hers. “Hello, lass. Ye are very welcome. And the other Sassenach, Arya, is yer friend?”

  “Yes. Thank you for your welcome. I am so glad to be here and safe amongst you all. It is so lovely to meet you.” She waited a moment, unable to contain her anticipation to see her friend.“Is Arya here? I am very much looking forward to seeing her again.”

  “Of course! She has gone to draw water but should return shortly.”

  Isabelle heard her name called out from behind her, and she turned to see an excited Arya drop the water bucket and rush toward her, arms open wide. They clasped each other in a happy hug. “Mistress, I know it is not proper, but I confess I missed you dearly! You are safe! You have come!” She glanced at Eamon and smiled.

  Isabelle said, “It is so good to see you are safe too. I will tell you the whole story later, but I must say, we are now safe forever from my father’s clutches. He is dead.”

  “Dead?”

  Eamon had come forward to join them. “Aye, by Isabelle’s own hand. But like she said, she will tell ye the whole story later.” Isabelle almost laughed at Arya’s surprise. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Donovan walking towards them a little shyly, and once Arya caught him in her gaze, she paled.

  “Donovan is alive?” she whispered, and Isabelle nodded, smiling, touching her hand to her friend's arm.

  “Go to him, Arya. He has the same feelings for you. He told me so himself. He shall be glad to see you again.”

  Arya glanced at Isabelle but then walked forward to Donovan, and after a pause, he wrapped her in a tight embrace. Isabelle turned back to Eamon. “I think I could be very happy here.”

  “Ye wish tae live here, lass?”

  “Yes, if it would be acceptable, but I would be happy anywhere as long as it was with you.”

  Sean wrapped his arm around Rose’s shoulders and said, “Aye, well it is about time ye both get married, do ye nae think?”

  Eamon was silent, and Isabelle hesitated, afraid he would actually say no. But then, laughing, Eamon took her into his arms and said, “Brother, I think ye are right. Will ye marry me, lass? A rogue, Scottish man, with nae much tae his name?”

  Isabelle kept her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I would like nothing better.”

  Epilogue

  Out in the wide field next to the growing village of The Scots, where the trees pointed happily to the heavens, their branches and boughs holding no darkness and no secrets, Eamon and Isabelle stood together to be married in front of everyone they knew and loved. The afternoon light was perfect for their purpose, and Eamon stood tall in front of his village, proud to be there, and proud to hold the hand of the beautiful English woman before him.

  Eamon had been growing impatient for the minister to come around to the village. He had waited nearly a month to claim Isabelle as his wife, but now, in that beautiful moment, the wait had been worth it. Her violet eyes were even more profound and enticing in the dappled sunshine, and her long brown hair was woven with flowers and vines and laid over her shoulder. She wore a simple white gown, created by the women of the village, and a sash of the Wilson colors was laid over her chest.

  “Eamon Wilson, do ye take this woman, Isabelle Cutler, tae be yer wife until death do ye part?”

  “Aye, I dae.” He smiled and gripped more tightly to Isabelle’s hands. She smiled back at him, and her cheeks reddened with happiness.

  “And do ye, Isabelle Cutler, take this man, Eamon Wilson, tae be yer husband until death do ye part?”

  “Aye, So I do.” The crowd laughed at Isabelle’s attempt at a Scottish brogue.

  The minister said, “Then, I pronounce ye husband and wife. Ye may kiss the bride.”

  The moment had come. Eamon’s heart was beating fast, for his future spread out before him, endlessly full of possibilities, hope, and happiness. Here was this woman he had longed for, and she gave him everything he desired: acceptance, love, confidence. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her lightly upon the lips to the cheering voices of those who watched.

  The day descended into celebration as tables were set up, food piled high, and a large fire kindled. The music soared through the air from bagpipes, and Eamon kept his arm around Isabelle as they watched the merriment unfold before them. “This is all for us, lass. I never thought I would see anything akin tae a home again.” Isabelle nestled closer under his shoulder, a permanent smile on her lips.

  “Neither did I. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. A true h
ome.”

  Couples began to dance, and Eamon pulled Isabelle out onto the wide swath of grass, spinning her around, feeling happier than he ever had been. Isabelle looked like a fairy creature, as if she was created from his imagination, her beauty was so ethereal.

  “Nae, I think that ye are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Isabelle moved close to him as she spun forward, laying her palms on his chest.

  “Now, are you just saying that because we are married, and you have vowed to love me forever?” Her eyes sparkled as she teased him.

  “Certainly not. Although that doesnae hurt.”

  Isabelle laughed and twirled around in his arms again. They moved to the side, and Eamon placed a cup of wine into her hand. “It is a rule that a bride must drink as much as her husband on her wedding night.”

  “Is that so? That sounds like the kind of thing a man has created in order to bed his bride without her complaining.”

  “Aye. An old tradition, but I dinnae remember hearing any complaints from ye about my lovemaking.” He leaned close to her ear, feeling her soft skin upon his lips, warm and tantalizing. Isabelle giggled, and Eamon reached a hand around her waist. “Come with me. I think I willnae be able tae wait until the wedding night.”

  “But what about the celebration? People will wonder where we are.”

  Eamon took her hand and pulled her towards the village. “Believe me, they will nae even think of it.” They walked to the newly built hut that was all their own, nearby to Rose and Sean’s. It was a perfect place to begin their new lives.

  Once inside, Eamon began to kiss Isabelle on her lips, her neck, and on the visible skin of her shoulders, and Isabelle fell into his arms with a sigh. Because he was now healed, he had returned to his lovemaking with a vengeance, frustrated that he could not do as well the first night they had been reunited once the fort had been ruined. It was like he wanted to make up for the time they had lost. Isabelle moaned and whimpered underneath the weight of him as he plunged his length into her, feeling the beauty of her tightness surrounding him, holding onto him.

  Once they were spent from pleasure, their eyes met, and Eamon leaned down to kiss Isabelle softly. “I love ye, Isabelle. I cannae tell ye how much I am excited about our new life taegether.”

  “And I as well. I say we return tae the party, my love, in order to spend the rest of the night in the company of our friends. Who knows how long your men will stay amongst us?”

  Eamon growled in argument, but he knew she was right. Once they were dressed and righted again, they returned to the celebration, the fire having grown larger as the evening light had begun to fade. He could see his men enjoying the drink and the dancing, trying to use their charms on some of The Scots’ women but not having as much luck as they would have liked. He spotted Donovan and Arya dancing together as well.

  “So I think ye have convinced yer Sassenach friend tae join us as well. Or do ye suppose she will want tae return tae England?”

  Isabelle laughed at the idea. “Now that she has found Donovan, and he has been returned to her, there is no way she will wish to leave. She has found happiness here, just as I have.”

  “I am sorry for the lad, though, with his scars and the loss of some of his fingers. He has given so much for the cause.”

  “Well, that is the thing about love. It is not simply about outward appearances. If that were true, then I would have been frightened away by you with your hard eyes and swarthy looks.”

  Eamon turned to his new wife, a mischievous grin on his face. “Is that so, now? I see ye have just married me for the lovemaking then. Ye plan tae leave as soon as possible?”

  Isabelle continued her teasing. “Well, I suppose that I could, but even if I wanted to, I could not anymore.”

  He was confused. “What do ye mean, lass?”

  Isabelle’s expression grew serious, but there was still the glow of happiness. “Eamon, there is something I should tell you, so that you have something to focus your celebration on taenight, besides our wedding day.”

  “What is it?”

  “I am carrying your child, our child, within my womb.”

  Eamon felt his eyes grow wet, and he hugged Isabelle tightly. “Truly?”

  “Truly.” Eamon laid his hand atop her belly, swelling with pride and affection.

  “I didnae think I would ever receive as much love like this. I didnae think I would ever be so lucky.”

  “Me either. The fates have been kind to us.” Isabelle slid her hand over Eamon’s, “And the best part is, Eamon, the love will only grow.”

  The End?

  But there’s more…

  Eager to learn what the future holds for Isabelle and Eamon?

  Then you may enjoy this extended epilogue.

  Simply tap here and you can read it for FREE, or use this link:

  https://www.kennakendrick.com/rihf

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading my novel, Taken by her Highland Enemy. I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, could you please be so kind to write your review HERE?

  It is very important for me to read your thoughts about my book, in order to get better at writing.

  Please use the link below:

  https://www.kennakendrick.com/08vc

  Deceitful Lassies

  Book#1

  Legend of a Highland Lass

  Book#2 (this book)

  Taken by her Highland Enemy

  Do you want more Romance?

  If you’re a true fan of the Scottish romance genre, here are the first chapters of my previous best-selling novel: Highlander's Cursed Heiress

  This time, we follow the story of Gale, an adventurous English lady who runs away to escape her murderous mother and finds herself in the company of an alluring Highlander. There she is called to change her ways, and he helps her see the world from a different point of view. But her past is catching up with her. How will she elude her mother? And will this be the only obstacle in their relationship?

  Highlander's Cursed Heiress

  Chapter One

  Gale looked up at the sun. The last time she checked to see how much light she had left in the day, it seemed as if she would have more time to find somewhere to sleep for the night. Now, as the sun melted behind the mountain tops, there were still hours before full nightfall, but she’d failed to account for the mountains. Dusk flooded the valley, threatening to blind her with darkness within an hour.

  A stray wind whipped down and pulled at Gale’s cloak. She pulled it close to her body, shivering against the sudden temperature drop. Her heart pounded as she looked around. Hours had passed since the last time she saw a house or a human at all. The road wound across the valley. In the distance, she could see the dark sponging of a forest, well out of her way. Yet for miles ahead, the land was open and vulnerable, save the occasional outcropping of rocks piercing through wildflowers and moss.

  What have I done? Gale thought. She’d not accounted for the mountains stealing so much day, and now the thought of making camp in the open frightened her.

  The other nights were hard, but she’d lucked out, and the days stretched on longer. Gale stared at the dark tree line, now only a shadow. The roughhewn road reflected some light, a pallid snake curling through the dusk. Her mind filled with horrible thoughts—bandits, travelers drunk and cold and aggressive—and of course, wild animals hunting for a meal.

  There was no way she could sleep out in the open. Her fire would beckon one and all nearby, and at this point in her journey, strangers terrified her. She remembered the cruelty she’d met from the first villagers she solicited for help. With the respects of her title stripped from her, she was a common girl, now filthy and hungry from traveling in the same clothes for weeks.

  I should have never sold the horse Gale chastised herself as she walked faster. It had been necessary, though. The horse would have given her company and helped her, but she would have starved or frozen. Each night was colder than the previous as she made i
t further north. She had a blanket and a dwindling supply of food. The cheat robbed me.

  Gale tried to push the memory from her mind. She didn’t know anything’s price. She knew her horse was worth more than she received, but it was her first time haggling. Her fear of the darkness and what danger might come with it fueled a million terrible thoughts in her mind. Anger coursed through her as she remembered the farmer’s stoic face while she begged him for an honest trade—a feat in itself that injured her pride. If not for how hungry she was at that point, she would have waited, but she had never gone two days without food before. The man knew she was desperate and naïve.