Enchanted Lover

by Scharon, Connie C.

  ENCHANTED LOVER

  By

  Connie C. Scharon

  Enchanted Lover

  By Connie C. Scharon

  Copyright 2013 Connie Coles Scharon

  Smashwords Edition

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  More Books By This Author

  This book is for Michael, who always encouraged me to follow my muse.

  And for Seth, who brought me back to writing and helped me improve my work.

  Chapter One

  Cairngorm Castle, 1312

  Tonight his fate was sealed. Keeping to the shadows, he made his way down the narrow hallway. A distant echo of footsteps at the end of the passage made him flatten into a dark alcove. As the noise grew louder, he watched a lumbering guard pass by and climb the stone steps twenty feet away. Pressing back against the wall, he waited for the footfalls to fade and continued along the corridor.

  Inside her chamber, Asilinn Innes wiped away her tears with the back of her hand while she struggled with the fastenings holding her dress in place. Her father had done it again, humiliated her in front of all his men. She was expected to tell them when the Dragon of Dunbocan would again lead his men into Innes lands. But her father knew her gift didn't work like that. The small glimpses of the future she was granted through her special dreams and visions held no specific place in time. They were open to misinterpretation more often than not. Besides, she had not had a true vision in months.

  With a heavy sigh, Asilinn shrugged off her kirtle and slipped on a threadbare sleeping shift. Perhaps it was her fault the gift had faded. Had not the priest warned her to dedicate her life to the church and pray daily that it was God's power that worked within her?

  As she lifted her shift to remove her hose, a noise in the hallway drew Asilinn from her task. Someone rapped lightly on her door. Was her father coming to chastise her for her insolence?

  "Who goes there?" Asilinn pulled a heavy robe around her shoulders and moved to stand by the door.

  A rich, masculine voice answered. "Lady Asilinn, your father sent me to fetch you."

  Asilinn let out her breath slowly. Maybe she was being summoned to give apology to all the brave souls she insulted with her angry outburst.

  "Please tell my father I am about to retire. I cannot come."

  "'Tis a matter of some urgency, Milady." The voice was not familiar to Asilinn. Dismissing her hesitation, she slid back the bar from the door.

  Jared stood waiting for his quarry to fall into the trap. The heavy, oak door flew open and he found himself face to face with one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. Her glorious, golden hair fell to her waist and her skin was like alabaster. She stared up at him now, her crystal blue eyes inquisitive.

  "You are not one of my father's men," she said. It was too late. Jared stepped inside the chamber and pulled the door shut trapping her. She started to dart away. He caught hold of her robe and jerked her back to him as it fell open.

  Asilinn tried to scream, but her head was buried in the intruder's massive chest. Her cry came out as a strangled gasp. He took hold of her hair and pulled her out of the heavy folds of his cloak. Her captor tilted her head back until she was forced to look him square in the face.

  For one terrifying moment she stared into the depths of his eyes—eyes glittering with dark intent like a hypnotic dragon about to devour her. She was frozen with fear. Her mouth opened to cry for help—she couldn't conjure up a single sound.

  He was a huge, Scottish warrior at least a head taller than most of her father's men. Thick, dark hair fell to his shoulders framing the strong lines of his face. A dark gray cloak obscured all but his looming angular shape. Suddenly he relaxed his grip and reached beneath his cloak.

  Asilinn was freed from his powerful trance. A scream rose in her throat. He jammed a wad of cloth between her lips and tied it behind her head. Though she clawed and struck at him, he secured her hands with ease. Amidst her flailing kicks and jabs, her assailant picked her up and carried her across the chamber. Throwing her down on the bed, he bound her feet together.

  "For one so small, you fight bravely, lass" he said. "The Innes blood no doubt." There was a flash of white teeth as a grin slid across his face. "I suppose I did not introduce myself." With one hand, he pulled back the cloak and watched her eyes turn hard. "You ken my colors."

  The blood red and blue-green of the MacLean colors waved before her eyes. Setting her jaw she let her contempt shine in her eyes.

  Her captor chuckled at her expression. He pulled her to her feet and threw a length of her family's own plaid over her head. Asilinn felt herself being lifted and slung over his shoulder. She groaned through her gag when his hard shoulder banged into her ribs. He patted her backside with his hand.

  “Sorry,” he apologized with more than a hint of amusement. With a convulsive twist, she kneed him in the chest. He delivered a stinging slap to her buttocks. "Be still or I may drop you. We’re going out a window and I have no desire to see you break your lovely neck.”

  Asilinn stopped squirming. It was useless anyhow; she was too tightly bound to break free. They left her room and headed down a flight of steps. She couldn't tell how far down they went. He branched off into one of the chambers and she realized they were still far up in the castle.

  Cairngorm Castle backed up to a sheer rock face that fell several hundred feet to the valley below. This fool was planning to climb down the cliff with her over his shoulder. Asilinn felt the chill night air as he eased them out the narrow window space. Her heart lurched in her chest.

  The MacLean clansman made his way skillfully down the precipice with Asilinn slung over his broad shoulder. Nearing the bottom, he jumped the last few feet. When they landed, the impact sent jagged pain through her ribs. She let out a muffled moan and tossed wildly.

  Dumping her unceremoniously to the ground, her captor whisked away her covering. As she fought to catch her breath, Asilinn glared at him. He grabbed her robe and pulled her up to face him in the pale moonlight.

  "Your eyes shoot daggers at me, sweetling,” he said. “I like a woman with spirit.”

  Asilinn didn’t care what he liked and would sincerely have liked to tell him so, but her gag prevented that luxury.

  The MacLean wrapped her plaid around her shoulders. He lifted her onto the back of a huge, black stallion, swung up, and cradled her bound body in his arms. She tried to pull away from him, but his muscular arm hammered her against his chest.

  Her nostrils were invaded by the scent of soft leather and fine wool mingled with a scrubbed freshness uncommon among fighting men. With one silent command, he spurred the destrier to action. Horse and rider moved as one in a fluid grace rare even among good horsemen. They flew across the moors, barreling through the blackness at a superhuman pace.

  When they were some distance from t
he castle, he guided his horse into a dense thicket. The MacLean dismounted and dragged her to the ground. A thousand images rushed through her mind each more terrifying than the next. Would she now suffer her mother's fate? Was she to repeat the horrible reality of her first childhood vision? Her heart leapt in a frantic rhythm. He pulled her against his chest watching her with those hypnotic eyes.

  Leaning down, he let his lips graze her ear. Asilinn choked back a sob. "Beyond the tree I have a horse for you," he whispered.

  Peering through the brush, she saw another horse tethered nearby. Asilinn let her breath out in a rush. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. He was enjoying her fear. He wouldn’t find it so amusing when her father caught up with him.

  He cut the bonds holding her ankles together. "If you cannot ride astride you will not keep your seat," he said, lifting her onto the fresh mount. Giving him an insolent glare, Asilinn slung her leg over the waiting horse. She was glad to be free of him. He tied her bound hands to the saddle.

  When Asilinn shivered, he took out a heavy, leather cape and wrapped it around her. "Is this more to your liking?"

  She snorted. He grinned and headed out again with her steed in tow.

  They rode for hours occasionally slowing the pace to negotiate difficult trails. From hearing her father talk, Asilinn knew it was three days ride to the MacLean lands. What did her father's enemy hope to gain by kidnapping her? Was she to be held for ransom? At least then, she would probably be kept intact. With grim determination, she pushed thoughts of all other possibilities away.

  As the pale fingers of dawn crept across the sky, Asilinn noted her captor had slowed his pace. They kept well off the main path. Tall pines and Mountain Ash rimmed one side of the trail and the last vestige of heather colored the mountains with hues of violet. The sun had risen to a gray dawn and Asilinn's breath made a cloud of vapor when she exhaled in the crisp air.

  The man who held her captive barely glanced at her. All his attention focused on the way ahead. Asilinn found herself studying his strong, chiseled features. Thick, dark brows arched above the green fire of his eyes. A thin scar ran along his cheek giving his face an ominous impression in the early light.

  Drawn by her perusal, he met her gaze. "Need a rest?" he asked.

  Asilinn nodded, not so much in need as in hope her father and his men would catch up to them. For awhile she thought the warrior had missed her nod because he continued to move ahead.

  Eventually he took a side trail that led to a river. Urging his steed into the water, he jerked the lead. Her horse was skittish and jumped nervously threatening to dump her into the icy water. Asilinn clung to the horse's mane with her tightly bound hands. Her captor came closer in an effort to calm the recalcitrant animal. The horse lunged forward, tore itself from his grip, and jumped up the riverbank.

  Grasping her opportunity, Asilinn kneed her mount in the ribs. It bolted across the rocky riverbank and stumbled on the slippery rocks. The horse pulled up with a plaintive whinny.

  The MacLean clansman came after them. He quickly reclaimed control and forced the horse into the water. Asilinn had his full attention now and she rather wished she did not.

  "Zounds! Daft lass, you are no good to me dead." He frowned, then turned and forced her horse to limp along behind his.

  They rode upstream until the water seemed to disappear into the side of a mountain. Looking closer Asilinn realized it ran from a cave. The entrance was narrow. It widened considerably about forty feet down the passage. The source of the stream vanished under the ground a few feet inside the main chamber and there was a hole in the ceiling further down which allowed light to filter into the cavern.

  Her captor dismounted and secured his horse. He lifted her to the ground and paused to examine her horse's right front leg.

  "I am surely cursed," he said, prying loose a stone from the horse's hoof. "You wilna be free of me so easily. Now we must ride together."

  Straightening, he pulled the leather cape off her shoulders. His burning gaze inspected her person lingering overlong on her breasts, waist, hips, and then tracing back to her eyes.

  “Damn them for not warning me,” he muttered.

  Asilinn clutched her robe around her and glowered at him.

  He chuckled at her enraged expression then forced her to the ground and bound her feet.

  "Dinna try anything foolish," he warned. With that, he unsaddled her horse and led it out of the cave.

  Asilinn was overcome with swelling anger. Not only was she bound and gagged, but now the clod had trussed her so tight she could barely breathe let alone move. She squirmed helplessly for a time finally giving in to an exhausted slumber.

  Lost in a dreamless sleep Asilinn felt hot breath across her face. She woke with a start. When her eyes fluttered open, she stared into the black nostril of the huge horse not the ominous fire of the warrior's eyes. The beast had broken free of its rope and stood nuzzling her cheek. Asilinn drew back in fear. The destrier could easily trample her appeasing his curiosity.

  She didn't know how long she had dozed and her captor was nowhere in sight. Trying in vain to escape the attentive stallion, she rolled across the floor of the cave. The horse followed.

  "Ailleagian, back," a voice called out from the entrance. The horse raised his head abruptly. The stallion backed up and walked over to nuzzle his master. The warrior stroked the beast affectionately and then pushed him aside coming to stand over Asilinn.

  "I didna mean to keep you waiting so long," he said with a smile.

  Asilinn shot him a withering glare. He bent and removed her gag. She gasped in a deep breath of cold air. "I'm freezing!" she spluttered. "Who are you? I would know your name that I might mark you for death among my kinsmen!"

  "I'm Jared MacLean, Laird of the clan MacLean, Master of Dunbocan."

  The Dragon of Dunbocan held her captive. Asilinn shuddered involuntarily. Sitting around the fire with her father and his men, she had heard many a story of this young MacLean chieftain. All her father's men spoke of him with something akin to admiration for his daring feats upon the field of battle. She knew he was a ruthless man. It was rumored he killed his first wife and her unborn child.

  As if reading her thoughts he gave her reassurance. "If you do as you're told, you will come to no harm at my hand," he said. Shaking a warning finger in her face, he leaned closer. "Dinna cross me, lass. Your life depends upon your actions." With a ragged exhale, he stroked the back of his hand against her cheek. When she tried to pull away his smile returned.

  "Take me home at once," she cried.

  The MacLean threw his head back and laughed. The echo reverberated off the walls until it sounded like a hundred men were scorning her rebuttal. Asilinn let out an anguished cry, tears springing fresh in her eyes. He stifled his laughter. A smirk crinkled the corners of his eyes.

  "I dinna think you know your purpose, lass," the MacLean told her. His hands moved down across her slender legs despite her indignant protests. Had he felt the dirk pressed hard against her calf? No, he was freeing her ankles from their bonds.

  Asilinn tried to struggle to her feet, but her legs were wobbly from the long hours of tight constriction. He caught her when she fell and pulled her against his chest. The scent of pine and wet wool assailed her nostrils through the haze of warmth his brief embrace provided. He stepped back steadying her with one hand.

  "The feeling will come back soon," he said gruffly. The MacLean spread the leather cape on the ground at her feet. "Sit. I'll build a fire." Asilinn did as she was told.

  Turning his back to her, he picked up the firewood he had stacked by the entrance. Soon a fire crackled lighting the recesses of the cavern and flooding it with heat. He had positioned the fire carefully so the smoke rose out the hole in the ceiling leaving them with a comfortable room.

  The MacLean moved to his horse and took some bread and cold, smoked meat out of a pouch. He came back to Asilinn and cut the rope securing her wrists. She watched
his hands while he worked. They were the strong hands of a man who knew how to fight yet when they touched her, they were gentle. Asilinn would not be fooled by his tender manner. At first chance, she would retrieve her dirk from the garter holding up her hose and sink it into his heart. For now she must bide her time and pick her opportunity.

  He bent to rub her ankles and Asilinn drew her feet away with a start. Did the MacLean read her thoughts? His gaze flew to her face and held her captive with a grip stronger than her bonds had been—the man could breathe fire over her with just one glance.

  Flushed Asilinn looked away. He sat down beside her and used his knife to cut a thick slice of bread and a hunk of meat. Gingerly she reached forward and took the meal he offered. He watched her eat then picked up his own food.

  The bread was stale and Asilinn had to chew the venison a long time in order to swallow it. Their long ride had made her hungry and she was determined to keep her strength up by eating. When she finished she took a deep breath and looked at him.

  Summoning all her courage, she addressed him. "What will you do with me, Laird MacLean?"

  His eyes burned into her as if searching for the answer to some riddle. "I plan to marry you, fair Asilinn, and unite forever the clans of Innes and MacLean in peace."

  Asilinn's jaw sagged—her eyes widened in disbelief when the full import of his announcement hit her. She felt like she'd been struck and left momentarily breathless from the impact. He had no intentions of returning her. She was to be his captive wife, a whore for his pleasure and the disgrace of her father. And he just sat there gawking at her with a crooked grin painted across his face. Leaping to her feet, she whirled to face him.

  "I'll never marry you!"

  "Aye, you will, whether you want to or not," he replied coolly.

  "Want to! Scourge of the Highlands! Renegade son of a thieving bastard! I wilna join myself with you. I will fight you until my last breath is spent!"