Return of the Highland Laird: A Highland Force Novella

by Amy Jarecki

  “Good morrow.” She didn’t smile and handed the babe to Ian. “What news of my eldest son?”

  Malcom gurgled and placed his little palms on Ian’s face. Ian loved the bairn, but presently had no time to act as nursemaid. “No sightings.”

  “Yet,” Bran said.

  “Aye.” Ian gave Malcom a wee pinch on his chubby cheek and set the toddler on the floor. He wasn’t about to accept that the lad might be an orphan. He looked to William and Bran. “We’ll extend our search. William, ye and John sail the Flying Swan to Ireland. Bran and I will take The Golden Sun and sail the English coast—we may need the bigger guns there.” Ian turned to Lady Anne and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Ye’ll have to manage as laird in our absence.”

  She gave him a somber nod. “I had to run the castle when you were but a lad every time your father sailed on his privateering voyages. I may be older, but I can still issue orders.”

  Ian liked his mother’s spirit. “Ye’ll have Merrin to help ye with Malcom.”

  Bran stepped beside them. “Enya and our brood will do anything for ye, of course.”

  Lady Anne’s brow furrowed beneath her grey wimple. She grasped Ian’s arm, her eyes pleading. “Just find my son. Tell him he has a child at home who needs a father.”

  “Aye,” Ian said. “And a clan who needs his leadership.”

  ***

  Jane snipped the thread and held up the finished shirt. I say, it looks as if it was made by a tailor. Standing, she hummed a merry tune and twirled across the floor with the shirt in her arms. The past sennight had been the happiest of her life. Alexander embodied everything she’d missed from her marriage to Roderick. Jane lightly brushed her fingers over the tops of her breasts. Nightly, Alex had shown her a new facet of the tenderness that could exist between a man and a woman. She’d never guessed a lady could enjoy such unbridled passion behind the closed doors of a bedchamber.

  And to think she’d found love isolated in the wilderness. Her unbounded happiness was nothing short of a miracle. She twirled back the other way and Max yipped, wagging his tail. “Come along, boy. Let us go find Sir Alexander.”

  She chuckled while she skipped into the yard with Max close behind. Alexander had fashioned a ladder, which was pitched against the roof. She stood back and shaded her eyes with her hand. My, he’s made quite a bit of progress since morning. He used strips of leather he’d cut from pigskin to tie the thatch bundles in place. She stood for a moment and admired him, broad shoulders, powerful legs, skirted by plaid. Simply looking at the man made her blood run hot.

  Jane flapped the shirt through the air. “I do believe ’tis time for your nooning,” she hollered.

  Alexander looked her way and grinned. Jane’s heart thrummed, sending her insides aflutter. Hewn of pure muscle, rugged as the tallest pine in the forest, his smile was the most devilish thing about him. He made her turn wanton with that grin.

  “Ye finished it, did ye?”

  “Yes, now come down and try it on.”

  Had she not been intimate with Alexander, watching him descend the ladder would have made her blush clear down to the tips of her toes. His kilt flicked up, giving her a pleasing eyeful of chiseled derriere. Making him a pair of braises crossed her mind, but she discounted the idea. That simply would not do.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked when he hopped off the last rung, unable to hide her shameless grin.

  He brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckle. “Aye. A bit of venison would be tasty on one of yer kettle scones.”

  “At least your stomach is predictable, because that’s exactly what we’re having.” She grasped his hand and led him into the cottage whilst holding up the shirt. “But first, try on my masterpiece.”

  Alexander reached for the shirt and held it up. He closely examined the seams and gave them a good tug. “Sewn sturdy, just like a Highland tailor would do.” He smoothed his fingers around the neckline and hummed appreciatively. “Better, mayhap.”

  Jane clapped. “Do you really like it?”

  He glanced down at his dirty shirt, now sporting two holes, one atop the other. “Aye, lass.”

  She rolled her hands through the air. “Well then, try it on.”

  Alexander shrugged out of the old rag and pulled the clean linen garment over his head.

  “Oh my.” Jane studied the form beneath. How utterly masculine he made the bit of fabric appear. Her tongue slipped to the corner of her mouth and she tugged at the shoulder seams. “Not too tight?”

  He stretched his arms forward. “Nay. It fits like it was made for me.”

  She gave him a playful thwack. “It was.”

  He slid his hands around her waist and kissed her. “My thanks. I shall always wear this shirt with fond memories.”

  Jane swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. She hadn’t thought about Alexander’s eventual departure in some time. She pretended to fuss over the cuff. “What is your clan like?”

  “Och, MacLeods are made of solid stock.”

  “Like you?”

  “I suppose. They eke out a living, tilling the rocky soil on Raasay. Me da did plenty to help the clan through a length of difficult times.”

  Jane ran her finger up his arm. “Since your mother was the daughter of an earl, was your father nobly born?” They both had been so secretive about their pasts, she’d been seeking a way to ask Alex this question without bringing to the focus upon her state of affairs.

  Alexander looked toward the door and sighed. “Aye, me da was the first MacLeod Chieftain of Raasay.”

  Her finger continued up and traced the stubbled line of his chin. “Are you a laird, Alexander?” she asked with a breathless whisper.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he said nothing. Jane looked him in the eye and arched a single brow.

  “Aye.” His admission was barely audible.

  Jane’s smile dropped. She tactfully twirled out of his arms, picked up the knife and started carving the venison. Two dreadful thoughts warred inside her tightening chest. The one thing she’d feared since the day he arrived was that his clan wouldn’t rest until they found him, and if they arrived upon her doorstep, her hiding place would be revealed. Worse, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. In a short time, Alexander had consumed her every thought. It had been so wonderful to have a man, a companion at the cottage. Moreover, he provided much more interesting conversation than Max, and he spoke to her as an equal. No man had ever conversed with her thus.

  She placed a slice of meat on a trencher. Since Alexander was a Highland chieftain, she could not entertain dreams of having him stay—and he’d mentioned he had an heir. When would he grow tired of her company and set out?

  Jane’s neck burned when he came up behind her. “Ye’ve grown suddenly quiet.”

  She set the knife down and pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes. “What if your clansmen come looking for you? They may bring locals with them.”

  “If they venture this far south, I doubt they’d give a wee village like St. Bees a cursory glance.”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “What about a port town? Whitehaven, for example?”

  Alexander nodded and swiped his hand down his chin. “Aye, across the Firth of Solway from the Mull of Galloway wouldna be out of the question.”

  “Whitehaven is only four miles northeast of Abbey Wood.”

  He got that faraway look in his eye again and smirked. “I cannot believe I did no’ ask ye when I first arrived—I’d just assumed St. Bees was a heathen village separated from civilization by leagues.”

  She pretended to straighten his shirt’s collar. “Why do you think you chose not to ask?”

  “I suppose it did no’ matter. I needed a place to lick me wounds.” He brushed his finger along her cheek. “And I did no’ see fit to leave just yet.” His voice grew husky and his fan of long lashes shuttered his blue eyes.

  Jane’s stomach erupted in a maelstrom of butterflies as his mouth neare
d. If only she could envelop him in her arms and hold him there forever. His lips caressed hers with a tingling rush of gooseflesh as if it were their first. Alex deepened his kiss with a moan, molding his body to hers. She may not be able to hold this man in her arms forever, but she would relish every single moment they shared together.

  Alexander rested his forehead against hers. “What about ye, m’lady? What brought ye here to Abbey Wood and why are ye so afraid of being discovered?”

  Her gut clamped into a solid ball. Jane stepped back and clasped her hands under her chin. “Oh no, we agreed. I cannot…can never speak of it.”

  He knitted his brows. “But that was afore we knew each other.”

  Jane shook her head. “No, no, no.”

  Alexander clapped his hands to his hips. “God’s teeth. I’ve poured me heart out, revealed all about me past—something I never thought I’d do.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “We’ve been intimate, yet ye will no’ open up to me.”

  She scooted away, her palms wet with perspiration. “Why can you not understand?”

  A loud knock resounded on the door. “Lady Whitehaven?”

  Alexander flinched. “Who?” he mouthed.

  Jane’s head spun. Of all the bad timing. “Mr. Cox!” The pitch of her voice rose as high as a meadowlark.

  Chapter Nine

  Jane cleared her throat, stood tall and opened the door with a practiced smile. “Mr. Cox. I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to you.”

  The old man beamed, a grin spread across his careworn face. “I cannot believe all the changes you have made. I never would have thought you capable, my lady, but give you a few weeks of fine weather, and the fencing is done, the roof work is underway.”

  “Um.” Jane stole a glance at Alexander and bit her lip. She couldn’t very well keep the Highlander hidden. And it would take to the count of three before Mr. Cox realized she’d had help. She moved aside and beckoned him inside. “Please, come in.”

  Bundles of supplies in hand, he stepped across the threshold. “I had no idea a noblewoman would be so learned in such matters…” He glanced at the dirty shirt draped over the chair. Thick eyebrows flew up in concert with an alarmed grimace spreading across his face.

  Alexander folded his arms and frowned.

  Regarding the Highlander, Mr. Cox dropped his parcels and blanched. “Holy Mary, Mother of God.” The dread in his voice sounded as if the world had come to an end.

  Jane hastened beside Alexander. “Look what blew in with that nasty storm we had the last time you were here.”

  The old man’s color changed from white as bed linen to scarlet. He glared at Alex, his steely eyes forming a hateful squint.

  Jane emitted a nervous laugh. “This is…ah…Alexander from Scotland. He’s been staying in the stable. He ran into some trouble and managed to collapse upon my threshold.”

  Mr. Cox blanched. “He’s been here over a month?”

  “Yes…”

  Alexander stepped forward. “Aye. The place was crumbling around the lady’s ears. I’d have been no kind of gentleman if I did no’ help her ladyship fix a few things lest she end up without shelter.”

  Mr. Cox glanced at Jane with disbelief, drawing his jowls into a glower. “I give you a place to stay and you invite a barbarian, not only onto the property, but inside the cottage without so much as an escort?”

  “Mr. Cox!” Jane stamped her foot. “I believe you’ve overstepped your station.” Yes, the old man had been inordinately kind, but he was a servant accusing her of impropriety. She gestured to Alexander. “This poor man’s boat was capsized in St. Bees. He was robbed by the local thieves and beat half to death. Whilst he’s been convalescing, he has been exceedingly selfless, making repairs to your cottage, which would have taken me months, if not years to complete.”

  Alexander held up his hands. “I must say leaving a noblewoman in the wild to fend for herself is akin to negligence.”

  “Me? Negligent?” The old man’s lips thinned as he stepped toward Alex. “And who do you think you are, a Highlander coming to my family’s home and making yourself cozy?”

  Towering over Mr. Cox, Alexander planted his fists on his hips. “Me name’s Alexander MacLeod, Second Chieftain of Clan MacLeod of Raasay, and I do no’ take kindly to a fella who is both remiss and ungrateful when a man’s toiled with his bare hands and fixed up yer shabby hovel at no expense to yerself!”

  “You, sir, are a reprehensible tinker and a reiver if I ever saw one. No fancy Scottish titles carry any weight this side of the border.” Mr. Cox’s complexion took on an even deeper shade of red. He snatched Jane’s arm and tugged her to the far end of the room. “This man could ruin everything for you,” he whispered, cupping his hand over his mouth so not to be heard. “My lady, you know as well as I, it could mean you burn.”

  Jane stole a panicked glance at Alexander. Standing across the room with his arms folded, he looked as if he could grab Mr. Cox by the scruff of the neck and toss him clear to the next shire. “He shan’t reveal…”

  The old man shook his knotty finger. “Mark me, I come to tell you the new Earl of Whitehaven has tasked the sheriff with tracking your whereabouts. You simply cannot take in vagrants, even if they are able to repair the roof.”

  Jane tugged her arm from his grasp and moved toward Alexander. “Mr. Cox, please be reasonable.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Cox shouted. Grimacing, he bowed depreciatively. “My lady, excuse my impertinence, but I have treated you with utmost respect. Nonetheless, this man must leave my cottage at once.”

  “I ken when I’m no’ wanted—and I ken when I’ve been played for a fool.” His icy stare scorched Jane’s skin. Alex pushed past her and headed toward the door. “Damn yer secrets. I’ve heard enough.”

  “Alexander!” Jane jumped when the door slammed behind his retreating form. Pursing her lips, she addressed Mr. Cox with fists clenched. “Have you forgotten your station? Yes, I am indebted to you for the use of this cottage, but your treatment of Laird Alexander is deplorable.”

  Mr. Cox’s shoulders dropped with his sigh. “Forgive me, my lady, but I haven’t gained an opportunity to spirit away from Buttermere Castle because of increased suspicion. ’Tis as if the new Lord of Whitehaven will not rest until you are abducted and punished for your crime.”

  Jane turned toward the hearth and drew her hands over her hair. “My heavens, will it never end?”

  “Who knows, but the servants are on edge. The earl has increased the guard and put the sheriff in charge of his army. We’re all being watched as if every one of us conspired to murder Lord Roderick.”

  “’Tis that bad?” Her gut clenched. “I cannot bear to have you or any of the servants suffering on my account.”

  “I hope things will calm down once the earl finds other matters with which to concern himself.” He pressed his palms together as if he were praying. “Please, I beg of you. Allow no one else on the property and keep yourself hidden. With any luck, the Highlander will collect his things and head straight to Scotland without revealing your whereabouts.”

  Jane clutched her arms across her body. “I believe Laird Alexander to be trustworthy.”

  “I pray to God he is, but his very presence here is a threat. What if he brings more smelly Scots from the Highlands upon us? You shall be discovered.” His head shook with his foreboding inhale. “On that there is no doubt.”

  “He said his clan wouldn’t be looking for him. He lost his wife—needed some time away…”

  “Let us pray he speaks the truth.” Mr. Cox gestured to the parcels on the floor. “I’ve brought your supplies. I have no idea when I’ll be able to return.” He bowed. “Godspeed, my lady.”

  Jane barely heard him. Alexander couldn’t simply walk out of her life. Her throat constricting, she accompanied Mr. Cox to the door. Her hands grew clammy. She’d had a brief respite from danger, from living in fear, but now her plight returned with full force.


  She dipped her head toward Mr. Cox respectfully. “My thanks for your continued generosity.”

  He offered a bow. Jane stood on the threshold and watched the valet mount his horse and head to the overgrown path.

  A clatter came from the stable. Jane rushed out of the house and around the back. Mr. Cox’s timing couldn’t have been worse.

  Alexander had donned his doublet and had his bow and a quiver of arrows over his shoulder. He stopped and stared at her, his eyes determined and intense.

  Max came from nowhere and rubbed against her leg. She slapped her hand to her chest, attempting to dislodge the lump in her throat. “Are you leaving?” Please no. Don’t do this to me.

  “Aye, the master of this cottage made his wishes clear.”

  She drew in a ragged breath. “Mr. Cox is only worried about me.” She stepped forward and touched Alexander’s elbow. “Stay…please…I cannot bear to see you go.”

  His lips thinned as he glanced away. “We both knew this day would come. The MacLeod probably thinks me dead by now and I’ve a son who needs his da.” Alexander started for the path.

  Jane grasped her skirts and kept pace with him. “Please. Stay just a little longer. I know you must return to your son. But I need you as well.”

  “Oh, Lady Whitehaven?” He turned on his heel and faced her. “Why couldna ye tell me ye were a countess? Do ye have any claim to the name Howard?”

  “On that I did not lie, factually. ’Tis my father’s family name.” She clutched her fingers around his arm. “Can you not understand? I needed to conceal my identity…”

  He tugged away. “Even after we made love? Even after I poured out me own despicable transgressions, ye cannot trust me?”

  She gaped. Heaven’s stars, he already knew too much. If she told him she’d taken Roderick’s life to save her own, he could march into Whitehaven and reveal her hiding place. “I do trust you.”

  “Then what is this big secret ye have?” He strode off then stopped again. “God bless it, Jane. If ye cannot trust me by now, ye never will. Love cannot grow when there are dark secrets simmering below the surface of one’s heart.”