Charming the Highlander Laird_Highland Warrior_Scottish Medieval Romance

by Verlin Underwood

  When she was ready, Tara walked out of her room, only to be bombarded with Nellie, who had one young girl in her arms and two boys, just past the toddler years, trailing after her. Nellie still wore her bedclothes, her golden hair unkempt and her eyes a wee bit desperate.

  “Tara, there you are. Oh, you’re dressed already? Could you be a dear and watch the children for me? Hilda is getting me ready, and everyone else is busy with the last-minute preparations.” Her sister-in-law hadn’t finished speaking when she handed the girl, Deirdre, into Tara’s arms. The twin boys, Alan and Aulay, started pulling at her skirts to get her attention.

  “It would be my pleasure, Nellie,” Tara said, smiling. Nellie was lucky she liked kids so much.

  The relief was apparent in Nellie’s eyes. She mouthed a “thank you” before hurrying back into her room.

  “Well,” Tara said to the children. “Shall we go play before the guests arrive?”

  “Aye!” the boys shouted, throwing their fists into the air.

  “Well, let’s go out into the courtyard, away from everyone. That way, we won’t get under anyone’s feet.”

  The courtyard garden was painstakingly maintained by Nellie. The newest addition was a small hedge maze, which the boys ran to first. They found sticks to use as makeshift swords as they disappeared into the foliage.

  As it was winter, the blossoms had yet to bloom, but the garden was filled with life, and the weather was pleasant. As Tara sat on the stone bench made by her father for his first wife, Isabel, she held Deidre in her arms and listened to the two boys imagine a great battle between the Scots and the English. There was still much conflict going on between the kingdoms, but being so far north in the Highlands, the Maxwells were fortunate enough to be far away from the skirmishes. Tara hoped that the war would long be resolved before Nellie and Adam’s children became of age to fight.

  Bridget was kind to stop by sometime in the mid-morning to give her a light breakfast of an apple tart, a sample of the evening’s desserts, which she shared with Deidre. The boys were too busy playing to care about food. Besides, very soon, they were going to stuff themselves silly with the rich meal the cooks were still preparing in the kitchen.

  In the afternoon, the guests arrived and began to converge in the great hall. Adam had ordered a new, larger table to be made to successfully seat all of his guests. The furniture was a solid piece of oak and arguably a piece of art, according the Dunaid household.

  “So does this mean we’ll be hostin’ more feasts?” Tara had teased her brother when dozens of servants dragged it into the hall after it had been made.

  “Well, I need to get my money’s worth out of the thing,” Adam replied. “So we’ll see.”

  At the start of the feast, Tara, Nellie, and her family sat at the front of the table, leaving a seat at the edge for the Laird of Dunaid. When all the guests were seated, he walked in. Adam was tall like her, and handsome. He was also a quiet man and seemed intimidating to those who did not know him well, especially considering he had a wicked scar running between his eyebrows and down his nose, a token from the Battle of Neville’s Cross. However, he had a kind heart, especially toward his beloved wife and their three children.

  He welcomed everyone for coming. As he took his seat, the servants flurried out of the kitchen with trays of food. They were started off with a vegetable soup, filled mostly with the produce that came from Nellie’s garden. Then the courses progressed to more hearty substances like roasted boar and red stag. For dessert, there were indeed apple tarts, but also a myriad of cheeses served with Adam’s best wine that he had been coveting for years before Nellie coaxed him into allowing them to serve it at the feast.

  Sitting to Tara’s right was a young man, a cousin of some laird to the east. He gave her his name and title, but Tara couldn’t tell what he said above the loud voices around her. She did not have the desire to ask him to repeat himself. She nodded politely as he told tales of his heroic exploits of clan battles, knowing that he was probably exaggerating to impress her. She did not want to meet his gaze, as was her routine with most men, for fear of enchanting him.

  Tara stared ruefully at her food, which, although it was delicious, she hardly had an appetite for. She could only think of her mother. Where was she now? Was she heading toward Dunaid?

  After months of waiting impatiently for the feast, she now wanted it to be over—immediately. Tomorrow could not wait. Adam needed to be told—now.

  But that proved to be an impossible feat. Adam was bombarded by people left and right throughout the night, and Tara soon found herself in the same predicament. As the food was cleared away and the table pushed to the side, it became time to dance. The man sitting next to her asked her for the first dance. Because she was distracted, she made the mistake of looking directly into his eyes. He was handsome, aye, and that didn’t help. His eyes soon glazed over, and he gave her a wan smile.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Tara said, horrified that she’d bewitched him.

  “I insist. With a pretty lass as yourself, I fear that I won’t have the opportunity again before this night is through.” At his words, Tara glanced in dismay at a crowd of men, both young and old, looking at her expectedly.

  She sighed. “There are plenty of bonny women here to dance with,” she tried to reason with the man. But she was already in his arms, him leading her in the dance that was accompanied by a lively fiddle.

  “Aye, but I want to be near you,” he insisted. “You are the bonniest one here.” He leaned forward and breathed into the curve of her neck. “You smell so wonderful, like flowers.”

  Ah, heaven forbid. She hated the thought of forcing someone against their will. It was one of the cruelest things she could think of, but because she was half-fairy and untrained, she had no control. None at all.

  She kept her eyes on her brother during the dance. The moment he broke free from a conversation between him and two other lairds, she pulled away from her suitor.

  “Excuse me,” she said to him as she walked away.

  “Wait, where are you goin’?”

  As she pushed through the crowd, she glanced behind her, realizing that half a dozen men were following her footsteps. No, this would not do. She turned around abruptly and put her hands on her hips.

  “Leave me alone!” she shouted at them.

  Those who stood nearby turned to look at her in bewilderment. The men who followed her blinked in confusion and sauntered away. Had she broken the spell?

  “Tara?” Her brother called out to her, his brows furrowed with concern. “Are you all right?”

  She stalked over to him, thankful for the respite. “Adam,” she said to him. “I need to speak to you.”

  Perhaps sensing the urgency in her voice, Adam grabbed her arm and guided her out of the great hall, to a quiet alcove where no one could overhear them.

  “What is it?” he finally asked.

  “I… I had a vision last night.”

  Adam frowned at her words. “And what did you see?”

  “My mother… Una. I believe she escaped from the Unseelie Court.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I saw the vision through her eyes, Adam. She found another portal an’ managed to escape.”

  Adam’s face paled. “Do you know where she is? And where this portal is?”

  Tara shook her head. “I know not.” She paused. “But I don’t think she’s near to us. I don’t have that same connection with her as I used to when I was younger an’ she was still in the human realm.”

  Adam nodded. He did not look happy. There had been a time, Tara learned, when he loved his stepmother. That had caused great fiction between him and Nellie after Nellie had revealed to him that Una had cursed her family. But he had long since recovered from that, and as painful as his past was, he still despised the woman.

  “We’ll figure somethin’ out,” he reassured her.

  Tara nodded wordlessly. But what could Adam do? He had a family
to take care of, and, even then, he was no match for an Unseelie fairy such as Una.

  This matter was all in Tara’s hands. She wished she had some way to figure out how to harness her power to get rid of Una once and for all. However, she didn’t even know if she was strong enough to ever accomplish such a feat. Tara had seen both in person and in her vision how powerful her mother was. She would not hesitate to kill for her own gain.

  Tara left the feast early, not having the heart to even pretend like she was enjoying the festivities. Back in her room, she pulled the ribbons from her hair and undid her braids. After she washed her face and settled into her bed, she thought of the castle her uncle Bearnard left for her. Finding no desire to leave Dunaid, she had only been back to Murdag Castle a handful of times. In Una’s room, Tara had seen piles of books with titles pertaining to magical spells and history. Would Tara find answers if she were to look through those books?

  Some of the guests had stayed the night, and the next morning, they were scattered here and there at the oak table, waiting for their morning meal. Tara took two steps into the great hall, saw the crowd, and turned around and left. She called on Bridget to take food to her room instead, not wanting to speak to anyone.

  She had decided to head to Murdag Castle that day, and she had no time to lose. After she ate, she quickly dressed in her traveling clothes, putting on her boots and wrapping her wool breacan around her shoulders. Nellie, an advocate for women knowing how to defend themselves due to her own experience warding off attackers, had gifted her a few years back with a dagger made by a nearby blacksmith. She’d also fashioned for her a harness so that Tara could strap the dagger around her calf and hide it under the skirt of her dress.

  When she was ready, she stopped by Adam’s study to let him know she was to be at Murdag Castle for a day or so. “Bridget is comin’ with me,” she told him as he leaned back in his chair and considered her announcement.

  “You’ll need more than Bridget to come with you,” he said.

  “I still have the men I hired to guard the castle. They are sworn to protect me.”

  “I’m not talkin’ about those already at Murdag. I do not want you ridin’ alone.”

  “Verra well. Can Alister accompany me, then?” she asked, speaking of the cousin who lived with them at Dunaid Castle.

  “Alister doesn’t want to leave Isla’s side,” Adam replied. “She’s come down with the ague overnight an’ is bedridden.”

  “Ach, fine. Then who will you send with me?”

  “I’ll do it, m’laird.”

  Tara turned abruptly toward the door. “You are not going with me,” she told Ealair, who stood at the threshold. He was a young man close to her age and a guard hired by Adam two summers ago. He was also the most annoying man in all of Dunaid Castle.

  “That’s not for you to decide,” Laird Maxwell coolly told his sister. Tara closed her mouth. “Ealair, you may accompany the lady to keep her safe as she travels to Murdag Castle.”

  “Thank you, m’laird.” Ealair grinned at Tara. “I’ll get your horse ready.”

  When he left, Tara rolled her eyes. “Adam, you couldn’t have left me with a more annoyin’ person to travel with. He talks nonstop about the most ridiculous things he can think of.”

  “He is also loyal an’ good with a sword. He would do well in protectin’ you from brigands,” Adam said. He noticed her dismay and shrugged. “You can ignore him for the entire trip, if you so choose.”

  “I do so choose,” Tara said tartly.

  Adam chuckled under his breath and quickly sobered. “What is your reason for goin’ there, sister? Does this have to do with Una?”

  “Aye, my mother left many books at the castle. Magic books, if I recall correctly. I want to look through these books an’ see if there’s anythin’ I could glean from them that can help me find a way to send my mother back to the Unseelie Court. An’ perhaps I can find a way to learn how to use my own magic.” She paused. “Aren’t you worried about my mother, Adam?” she asked him.

  Adam considered her question. “If I see her, I might start worryin’. But until then, I have my family to think of. I will try to think of somethin’, but this fairy business is beyond me. I’m just hopin’ she stays far away from Dunaid.”

  “Well, I’m goin’ to make sure it doesn’t come to that,” Tara said adamantly. “I’m goin’ to figure out this fairy business, as you call it.”

  Chapter 2

  Tara, her guard, and her maid took off from Dunaid Castle later that morning. Murdag stood alongside the Firth of Lorne as Dunaid did, with a port large enough to house the merchant ship their uncle Bearnard captained most days of the year. He had been victim of her mother’s enchantment, going so far as to marry her before coming back to his senses, so Tara had spent some years living in Murdag.

  “This is my first time goin’ to Murdag,” Ealair began as they took not two steps from Dunaid’s stables. “I’ve heard many tales about it.”

  “Indeed,” Tara remarked, looking helplessly at Bridget. Bridget covered her mouth and stifled a giggle.

  “Oh, yes. I’ve heard tell that the walls are made of solid gold, after your uncle’s exploits in the East. I hear that he is a pirate. Is that true?”

  “Why, Ealair, it is true. Uncle Bearnard is, indeed, a pirate. All the walls in Murdag are gold, as well as the floors… an’ even the windows!”

  Ealair’s mouth dropped open. “You jest!” he cried, then frowned. “Wait, do you jest?”

  “Aye, I jest,” Tara said. Well, besides her uncle being a pirate.

  Ealair slumped in his saddle. “Oh,” he said dolefully. A moment later, he perked up. “I also heard tell that your uncle houses two dozen whores in his castle.”

  Bridget gasped, and Tara couldn’t help herself from laughing. “That is certainly not true,” she insisted when she recovered. “And the castle is not my uncle’s anymore, but mine. I am the one who knows what goes on within the walls, an’ there are certainly no whores about.”

  “Yes, m’lady.” Ealair must’ve remembered his position as he quieted for a good, long moment. Tara rejoiced in hearing the birds in the sky and the steady crash of the waves against the shore before he started up again. “I heard…”

  “Spare me, Ealair.”

  She turned her head to gaze out across the moorlands, then gasped as Ealair jumped off his horse and rammed his body into hers, causing them both to fall off her horse. Ealair’s body was padding for the fall as she landed hard on top of him.

  “What are you doin’?” she shrieked, pressing herself off of him. Ealair ignored her as he sprung up from the ground, sword in hand. He cursed under his breath as he stared at something behind her. Tara turned around.

  A man in a dark cloak had jumped onto the back of her mare and stolen her away. He took off down the road, a sword in his hand and two other weapons strapped to his hip and across his back. If there was any moment of hesitation on Ealair’s part, the attacker could’ve sliced Tara’s throat quite easily. Tara had heard word of an increase in brigands preying on unsuspecting travelers across the Highlands, but she never thought they would be in her brother’s lands with the amount of security there.

  “You didn’t have anythin’ of value in your saddlebags, did you?” Ealair asked as they watched the brigand flee across the fields.

  “Nay, only the horse was of value,” Tara replied breathlessly.

  “I can go after him, if you’d like.”

  Tara shook her head. “No, it’s not worth the risk. He had more swords than I’d seen a man carry at once.”

  “M’lady, are you all right?” Bridget asked worriedly, jumping down from her own horse. “He came right up behind us. I hadn’t a notion he was here until it was too late.”

  “I have naught but a few scrapes.” Tara looked down and noticed the few bleeding cuts on her arms. Her sore leg was a precursor to what would be a decently-sized bruise later that day. “I’m fine, really. Thank you, Ealair, f
or assistin’ me.”

  She mounted Bridget’s mare, and her maid settled in behind her. After taking a deep breath to calm her rattled nerves, they continued on. This time, Ealair was quieter and more alert, glancing left to right to make sure a second attack wouldn’t occur.

  However, they made it safely to Murdag Castle by late afternoon. The head of the castle, an elderly man named Archibald who kept the castle grounds in order, the floors polished, and the windows cleaned, greeted them upon their arrival.

  “Lady Maxwell, it is a pleasure to see you once again. Will you be stayin’ long?”

  “Not too long, I’m afraid,” she told Archibald. She had hired him after he escaped with his elderly wife to the Maxwell lands from a land dispute to the north. A rival clan had pillaged the lands, causing many villagers to flee south seeking refuge. Tara had hired a few more to stay at Murdag Castle, while Adam did his part to hire some refugees to work in his kitchens or as guards, giving them a safe place to live and a good sum of money to boot.

  “I’ll have Moira freshen up your sheets on your bed an’ serve up a late lunch,” Archibald told her.

  “Thank you, Archibald,” Tara said, giving him a kind smile before turning to Bridget. “You can rest, if you please,” she told her maid. “I’m going straight to my mother’s room to look through her books.”

  As she began to make her way upstairs, Ealair called after her. “What about me?”

  “Thank you once again for your assistance on the road, Ealair,” she told him formally. “I have no further need for your protection, so you can go about as you wish until I’m ready to return.”

  Just don’t go anywhere near me, she prayed as she ascended the stairs to her mother’s room. She didn’t have time to be distracted by his elaborate stories.

  Una lived in a room separate from Bearnard. Once she had married Bearnard, her mother spent most of her time locked away in her room; even Tara didn’t see much of her. Tara had learned that Una, in her seclusion, had been planning on taking over Scotia by enchanting the lairds and having them battle against each other, creating more strife in an already torn country.