Highland Moon Box Set (BBW Scottish Werewolf / Shifter Romance)

by Mac Flynn

  "Then it is really you, Mother?" Tristan asked her.

  Lady Briana extracted herself from Bruce's hold and moved over to Tristan. She cupped the bottom of his face in her hands and smiled as she studied his face. Her sweet voice was like a cool breeze on a hot summer day.

  "My dear little son, how much you've grown and how I've longed to see you," she whispered.

  "But why did you not come to me?" he asked her. He clasped her hands in his and searched her eyes. "Why did you hide yourself from me for so long?"

  "Because I feared your father," she told him. She turned her face away and shuddered. "I feared he would make another attempt on my life and that the goddess would not grant me another chance at life."

  Tristan's face clouded with anger. "Then he did try to kill you," he commented.

  Lady Briana pursed her lips, but nodded. "Aye. He made a soup of wolf's bane of which I only drank a small portion before I realized the truth. I used the powers granted to me by the goddess to save my body, but my wish for life meant the power of the goddess left me." Lady Briana turned her attention to me and smiled. "But I see she has found a most worthy successor."

  Tristan squeezed his mother's hands and shook his head. "But I do not understand. You lay inside the coffin as still as death. Father buried you within the vault."

  "A trick of magic that none perceived. I escaped the coffin before they shut the lid and willed an image of myself in its confines. They buried nothing but air," she revealed.

  "Then Father never-"

  "Laird Campbell was not your father, Tristan," Lady Briana interrupted him. She looked to Bruce and nodded at the stranger. "He is your father."

  Bruce smiled and bowed to us. "A pleasure to be properly introduced to you, my son."

  Tristan frowned and turned back to his mother. "Then I am not the son of a laird?"

  "You are," Bruce answered. "I am laird of much land to the west of here."

  "But I am not Laird Campbell's son?" Tristan persisted.

  Lady Briana sighed and shook her head. "You are not."

  Tristan released her hands. He turned away and ran one of his hands through his hair as he stared at the ground. "I am not his son. Then what right do I to this land?"

  Lady Briana moved to stand before him. She set her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to look into his distraught face. "The right of every good man to administer his justice over a land that has no master," she told him.

  "And is in sore need of a master for I bring a message of warning," Bruce spoke up. "An arm of the Menzies clan comes to avenge their fallen comrades."

  A dark cloud fell on Tristan's face and he frowned. "From what direction and how far off?"

  "A hundred miles in the northeast. They travel through MacNaughton's land," Bruce informed him.

  Tristan raised an eyebrow. "With permission?"

  Bruce shook his head. "I cannot tell, but there is no army to meet them and the clan does not pillage. Their aim appears only to pass through to the core of your lands."

  Tristan pursed his lips. "To what I once thought of as my lands."

  I frowned and stepped up to him to look him in the eyes. "My laird, though your parentage has changed I know your heart has not. The people in the village and the countryside-your people-need you now more than ever before. You cannot fail them in their greatest hour of need."

  There was a moment of pause before a small, crooked smile slipped onto his lips. He grasped my hands and pressed my fingers to his lips.

  "My goddess, you do me a great honor by being my wife," he whispered to me.

  I blushed and shook my head. "You do me a greater honor by being my husband, and at this time you must be my laird of Campbell Castle."

  He gave a nod and looked to Bruce. "Can you confirm with your own eyes this army?"

  Bruce nodded. "I can."

  "Then the word of my father will be well enough for me," Tristan affirmed.

  "A moment, my son," Lady Briana pleaded. "You cannot speak of your true parentage to anyone lest your subjects lose their will to fight for you."

  Tristan frowned. "But they must be told."

  "In due time, but not when there are more important matters to be had," she advised.

  Tristan sighed, but gave a nod. "I will accept your advice, Mother, but what of your presence? They will believe you a ghost, or worse."

  Lady Briana smiled and stooped to gather the filthy rags. She took up the mantle of the Ciardha so that none, not even her son and lover, could tell she was the former Lady Campbell. Even her voice was once more the high cackle of the witch of the moors. "That, too, will come in good time, but after your enemies have been defeated."

  "Then I will defeat them quickly with the aid of the goddess and return within a few days," Tristan boldly announced.

  Ciardha shook her head. "That would not be wise, my laird. The goddess is newly given a body. If you were to press her powers both spirits would be at risk of death."

  I felt the color drain from my face. "Then the power of the goddess will kill me?" I asked her.

  "The goddess helps those who helps themselves," she tutored us. "She will assist in your fight, but she will not carry you through the day against an entire army."

  "Then it is time we pitted the strength of my men against these invaders," Tristan replied.

  Ciardha smiled and gave a nod. "Aye, and the goddess of the wolves will help you how she can."

  Tristan turned to me and clasped our hands. He gazed into my eyes. "Will you be by my side, my love?"

  I stood on the tips of my toes and pecked a light, teasing kiss on his lips. "Does that not answer your question?"

  He chuckled. "Very thoroughly." He turned his attention to Bruce and his humor slipped from his face. "Will you swear before my lairds that what news you bring is the truth?"

  "I will," Bruce promised.

  "Then I will call them together and see to the matter of raising an army to counter this invasion, and together we will vanquish the Menzies clan forever," Tristan proclaimed. He looked to Leod. "Inform the lairds, Chamberlain, and the captain of the guards I wish for them to meet me in my chambers, and be quick."

  Leod bowed his head. "As my master wishes," he replied, and hurried off to perform his important duty.

  Tristan faced the three of us who remained in the room, and most especially Bruce. "We may be hard put to convince MacNaughton to allow a sizable force into his territory."

  "Aye. MacNaughton will not be eager to hear my words," Bruce commented.

  "He will hear them nonetheless," Tristan answered. "They will all hear them, and judge for themselves what our plan of attack shall be. Now let us hurry to my chambers or Leod's eagerness may beat our steps."

  CHAPTER 44

  We left the chambers of Lady Campbell and moved to those of my laird and myself. Briana disguised as Ciardha took a seat in the farthest, darkest corner to watch the proceedings, and we others stood around the fire. The first to arrive after us were the sons of MacNaughton, Duncan and Angus. Leod shut the door behind them and hurried off to fetch the others. The pair held tall mugs in their hands and their eyes were glazed over with a hint of intoxication.

  "Your manservant tells us you have something important to say," Duncan commented. He strode over to Tristan and smiled. "I hope it doesn't concern the supply of rum."

  Tristan closed his eyes and shook his head. "I wish it was something so mundane, but I must disappoint you. The matter is more grave than most."

  Duncan's good humor slipped from his face and he furrowed his brow. "What is it?"

  "I will wait for the others so I needn't repeat myself," Tristan replied.

  The others were soon to arrive. MacLaren and his wife stepped inside, and Laird MacNaughton, Seumas, and Laird Graham were behind the lovely couple. Chamberlain and Captain Alan were two of the last to enter and Leod firmly shut the door behind himself.

  Laird MacNaughton glanced at Bruce who stood in the far corner while Seum
as 'honored' us all with his unusual smile. The guests gathered around the chairs positioned before the fireplace and old Laird MacLaren was given the best seat. He perused Tristan's face and his bushy eyebrows crashed low over his face.

  "There is danger in your eyes, young laird," MacLaren commented.

  "Aye, my laird, and grave news," Tristan confirmed. He studied the faces present, particularly that of Laird MacNaughton. "I have received news that the Menzies clan has gathered an army and even now marches south to avenge their fallen comrades and plunder our lands."

  MacNaughton frowned. "An army? Surely nothing as large as that, and certainly not the Menzies. They would need to cross my land, and I have heard nothing of this."

  "And yet it is true," Bruce spoke up as he stepped forward. "I have seen the army with my own eyes. They are a thousand strong and with many horses."

  Graham started and his eyes widened. "A thousand? How came they to be so united against us?"

  "What proof do you bring us besides your own eyes?" MacNaughton challenged Bruce.

  "My word as a laird," Bruce returned.

  MacNaughton scoffed. "I know not to what land you belong, stranger, but I have no qualms in calling you a liar."

  Bruce scowled at MacNaughton. "And I have no qualms in telling you I do not believe you are wholly ignorant of the passage of this army through your lands."

  Tristan held up his hand. "That is enough. Arguing will not advise us on how to proceed."

  "But confirmation will," MacLaren spoke up. "We must send scouts to confirm the army, and scout a location on which to do battle."

  "I offer myself to go, my laird," Chamberlain offered.

  "And I, also, will go," Duncan chimed in.

  "And I, as well," Angus agreed.

  "You will stay, Angus," MacNaughton insisted.

  Angus frowned. "Are we only to have two sets of eyes, Father?"

  "As great as I admire your courage, I must agree with your father. The fewer the pair of eyes the less chance they will be revealed," Tristan agreed.

  "And my going to lead them to the army will make three sets which is quite enough," Bruce offered.

  "How long will you be gone?" Tristan asked him.

  "Only a few days. Welcomed or not, the army marches quickly through the lands of MacNaughton," Bruce replied. MacNaughton scowled at him, but said nothing.

  "Then take my swiftest horses and leave as quickly as you can," Tristan commanded them.

  A faint smile danced across Bruce's lips. "I am afraid horses and I do not agree."

  Tristan returned his smile with one of his own and patted him on the shoulder. "Then I shall introduce you to one whom you will find most agreeable. Now come."

  "But what of the guests?" Chamberlain reminded us.

  "Let them make merry for a while yet before the cloud of war darkens their brows," Tristan suggested.

  All but Ciardha and I left the room. When the door shut behind them I turned to her. She stepped from the corner and her lips were pursed tightly together.

  "These troubles reek of malice," she commented.

  I furrowed my brow. "Because the army wishes revenge?" I guessed.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, because I sense a traitor among my son's lairds. MacNaughton's eyes and scent told me more than his lips would reveal. He knows more of this than he would tell my son." She opened her eyes and they whipped to me. "And what of the young man with him? He who did not offer himself for the group of spies."

  "He is Seumas Campbell, cousin to the old laird," I informed her.

  Ciardha's frown deepened. "There is darkness in his eyes that I believe lies as deep as his heart. He will bring us trouble."

  "Ciardha-Lady Campbell, I mean," I corrected myself.

  Ciardha shook her head. "I forsook the title when I abandoned my husband."

  I sighed and seated myself on the end of the bed. "And what right have I to it?"

  Ciardha walked over to me and set a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into her smiling face. "As great a right as any, my dear Muira. Your kindness will make you a wonderful queen, and your strength and that of the goddess will make you a wonderful protector for these lands."

  I turned away and looked down at my lap. My hands lay palms-up atop my white dress. "But what am I to do with these powers? How am I to use them? When am I to use them?"

  Ciardha sighed. "That is for you to learn, though I fear it will be in the heat of battle that you learn them." Ciardha patted me on the shoulder and moved towards the door, but paused before the entrance and half-turned to me with a smile on her lips. "But Tristan and I have faith in you, so you must have faith in yourself. The goddess of the wolves will feed off your confidence and all you care about will be saved. Be assured of that."

  I returned her smile with a weak one of my one. "Thank you."

  She bowed her head. "My lady. Tell my son I will return when the men return, and will help where I may."

  I stood and stretched out my hand to her. "But Tristan would like you here," I pointed out.

  Ciardha shook her head. "Not yet. Not until these troubles are behind us."

  She left, and I was left with my thoughts. I turned my hand to myself and studied the normal, frail palm. Beneath the surface lay the power of the goddess of wolves, but what power did she hold? I had witnessed protective fog and fire, but they had not struck down a single enemy. Tristan had been the one to defeat the Menzies clan at their last raid, and my fog provided only cover for his transformation.

  I sighed and dropped my hand. How little I knew what lay in store, but the near-present demanded our attention, as did my guests. I rejoined the party and entertained with a heavy heart. My mother drew me aside in the dining hall and looked me over with worried eyes.

  "What ails you, Muira?" she asked me.

  I tried to give her a smile, but the result was miserable. "Nothing to be concerned about."

  She pursed her lips. "Muira, you have always been a terrible liar to me since you broke my favorite bowl. Now come, tell me what is the matter."

  I clasped her hands in mine and shook my head. "I cannot tell you now, but rest assured you will know the reason soon enough."

  My mother sighed, but gave a nod. "Very well, but do not carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders." She brushed her hand against my cheek and smiled. "And whatever you have to tell me, know that you will always bring me pride and will always have my love."

  I grasped her hand and kept back the tears that sprang from my eyes. "And I will always love you, Mother."

  My mother chuckled and used her free thumb to gently wipe away my tears. "No tears now. Not on your wedding day." She moved to stand beside me and looped my arm through hers. "Now let's entertain your guests and be merry until the time comes when you must tell me what bothers you so."

  CHAPTER 45

  My mother was a great asset in keeping my spirits high as a shadow cast itself over the castle and those within its walls. The heavy dread of the return of our men stifled the joyful mood of my wedding. Tristan smiled, but the humor did not reach his eyes. He was too preoccupied by the threat of war to even bed with me, and instead gathered and trained his men in the courtyard and outside the village.

  It was on the third morning after the men's departure that I glanced out the easterly windows that looked towards the High Road. The day was gray and overcast, and a faint hint of fog floated over the mountain behind the castle. Somewhere around the road was my laird. He was so near, and yet I felt he was so far. Those stone walls were as thick as a hundred miles.

  I set my hands on the windowsill and sighed. A knock came from the door, but I was not alarmed for I knew who wished for entrance.

  "Come in," I called.

  Davina and Eva stepped inside. The first was all smiles, but Eva glared at her companion.

  "You must show more decorum," Eva hissed as they walked over to me.

  "Not even your jealousy can ruin my mood," Davina replied
as they stopped before me and curtsied. "Good morn, my lady."

  I blinked at this changed Davina who was polite. "Is something amiss I am not privy to?" I wondered.

  Eva shook her head. "It is nothing more than a flight of fancy, my lady."

  I walked through them and took a seat on the foot of my bed. "A flight of fancy would be most welcome to me."

  Eva sighed and jerked her head towards Davina who had a far-away look in her eyes. "Davina thinks herself in love with a common soldier," she explained.

  Davina stuck her tongue at Eva. "You are merely jealous he did not choose you."

  Eva pursed her lips and turned her face away from her from. "I, as a lady-in-waiting to Lady Muira, would not think to associate myself with one so low."

  "Then you miss much, and may as well confine yourself to a nunnery," Davina scolded her.

  I couldn't help but smile at their bickering. It distracted me from greater problems. Eva sniffed the air and ignored Davina to focus on me. She turned to me and bowed.

  "My apologies, my lady. It seems in our arguing we have neglected our duties to you," she apologized.

  I smiled and shook my head. "Your friendly banter does not bother me."

  "But we should dress you and take you down to breakfast. The staff awaits your coming," Eva insisted.

  They dressed me as I stood before them. My thoughts wandered to their mention of a soldier, and to the man who led them, my laird.

  "Is your soldier under the command of our laird?" I asked Davina.

  She smiled and nodded. "He is, and a mighty fine man he is. Both our men, that is," she corrected herself as her eyes flickered to Eva. Eva rolled her eyes and focused on my hair.

  "Does he train today?" I wondered.

  Davina sighed. "Every day he trains, and not a thought nor a minute for me."

  "He trains to prepare for the spring defense," Eva reminded her.

  I bit my lip before I corrected her. None but those of Tristan's inner circle of lairds and ladies knew the true, more immediate reason for the training.

  "What of your eyes? I have seen them wander to Angus quite a few times as we walked past," Davina scolded her friend.