by Amy Jarecki
“Good God.” The man slapped the coin in her hand. “I would have thought more from his offspring.”
Please, this cannot be someone important. “Pray tell, what is your name, Mr.…?”
“MacDonald.” He turned on his square-toed shoe and headed toward the keep.
She smoothed her fingers over the coin while studying his retreating form. Holy Moses, he posed a sight—tall, well-muscled, well-dressed. She bit her bottom lip. Aye, Mr. MacDonald had to be someone important for certain. He called Da by the familiar.
With luck, he’d soon forget this morning’s events. Looking to the wispy clouds sailing above, Mary clapped her hands together and prayed it would be so.
Da had never allowed her to attend the games before—and growing up in Castleton on the Isle of Sky didn’t give her much of an opportunity to meet anyone interesting. And goodness, nearly everyone in these parts was named MacDonald. Several of the clans who’d be here for the games were MacDonalds as well…and Camerons, and Grants, and MacDougalls. Her mind boggled. She’d best hurry. Dunscaith Castle kitchens would need oversight for certain—and she didn’t want to be caught by any of the great men due to arrive this afternoon.
***
Marching toward the keep, Sir Donald MacDonald, the Baronet of Sleat clutched his musket under his arm. Bloody oath, the castle looked as if it were crumbling. And he’d just been bested by John of Castleton’s daughter? Covered with freckles, a Highlander’s bonnet pulled low over her forehead, the lass looked more masculine than her little brother. Damnation, he kent something was amiss when he wrestled her into his grip. Not only did she smell like a garden of lilacs, she weighed no more than seven stone. ’Tis why he asked his—rather—her age.
Don shook his head. He would have bested the wench if he hadn’t been navigating a birlinn through the rough swells of the North Sea since dawn yesterday. He needed a good meal and a healthy tot of whisky to regain his land legs.
Bloody hell, he’d been looking forward to this jaunt to the Highlands? He didn’t need a parcel of children in his way. He had serious matters to discuss with the Defenders—the Jacobite chieftains who had pledged their fealty to the cause. Aye, one day they’d see King James returned to the throne and oust the usurper, William of Orange. To add insult, the false king’s wife, posing as Queen Mary II was James very daughter. No greater backstabber hath ever worn a crown.
~End of excerpt from The Valiant Highlander
Other Books by Amy Jarecki:
Coming Soon, Highland Defender Series:
The Valiant Highlander
The Highland Duke
The Reckless Highlander
Guardian of Scotland Time Travel Series
Rise of a Legend
In the Kingdom’s Name
Highland Dynasty Series:
Knight in Highland Armor
A Highland Knight’s Desire
A Highland Knight to Remember
Highland Knight of Rapture
Highland Force Series:
Captured by the Pirate Laird
The Highland Henchman
Beauty and the Barbarian
Return of the Highland Laird (A Highland Force Novella)
Pict/Roman Romances:
Rescued by the Celtic Warrior
Celtic Maid
If you enjoyed In the Kingdom’s Name, we would be honored if you would consider leaving a review. ~Thank you!
About the Author
A descendant of an ancient Lowland clan, Amy adores Scotland. Though she now resides in southwest Utah, she received her MBA from Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh. Winning multiple writing awards, she found her niche in the genre of Scottish historical romance. Amy loves hearing from her readers and can be contacted through her website at www.amyjarecki.com.
Visit Amy’s web site & sign up to receive newsletter updates of new releases and giveaways exclusive to newsletter followers: www.amyjarecki.com
Follow on Facebook
Follow on Twitter
