Mesmerized by a Roguish Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

  “Nay,” she said. “Please, let's go see him. How is he?”

  “Aside from wanting to speak with ye, he told me he’s hungry,” Leith added, “I went to the kitchens before coming for ye. I can see that he is as hungry as he stated. He looked a little thin around the face and arms.”

  “How can that be?” Sarah asked. “I made sure food was sent up every day. Ye ken I made it meself.”

  That was a question Leith felt did need to be answered but could be asked another time. This was a time for a happy reunion. They arrived at the door and Leith nodded to the guards before opening it and entering with mother.

  Aaron was sitting in the same place he had left him and when Sarah saw him, both of her hands flew to her mouth in disbelief. “A-Aaron…is that truly ye?”

  “Aye,” his father said wearily. “It is I. I feel like I cannae describe how I feel kenning that I hurt ye, Sarah. It's like a part of me, the sane part stood aside and watched me do those horrible things to ye. Now that the madness has passed, I beg yer forgiveness.”

  “Ye were aware of it all?” Sarah asked.

  “Aye,” his father grimaced while his nostrils flared in frustration, “I kent it all, I just couldnae stop meself from doing them. Do ye ken how horrible it is to see yerself doing something but cannot stop yerself from doing it?”

  Leaning on the wall, Leith could not fathom how something like that was even possible. His mother was pensive. Her hands were folded on her skirt and her head was down. She then shook her head, “I am grateful that yer back. The clan needs ye, Aaron.”

  “I dinnae ken if I’m fit to be the leader now,” Aaron shook his head, and his hand massaged his wrinkled brow. “Isnae Nicolas around to help Leith?”

  “He is,” Leith answered that for her. “But he and I manage all the duties.”

  His father’s eyes narrowed, “He and ye? Why arenae ye the head? Nicolas is me second, but ye are the one who is supposed to take over. Explain this, son.”

  This conversation was not what Leith had expected to have with his father. “I have nay yet taken the reins because I was set on ye coming back to us. I dinnae want to take over and then have to step aside.” His explanation was weak and Leith knew it. He also knew that his father would see through it immediately.

  “Leith.”

  His father’s one word, loaded with disappointment, tempted him to shrink away. That tone never failed to cut him in two. He felt like the five-years-old boy sneaking away to climb trees he was banned from or handling weapons he was not capable of handling yet. But he faced his father directly.

  “Ye can do better,” Aaron said.

  “He would have,” Sarah cut in protectively, “if he wasnae runnin’ all around trying to find a cure for ye. Ye arenae aware of what he was doing for the last six months when ye were ill. He—”

  “Nay, mother,” Leith stopped her. “He’s right, I could have done more. Even with the search, I shouldnae left all the responsibilities on Nicolas. He is the battle chief, nay the Laird.” He then dipped his head to his father in respect, “I promise, I will be the leader ye need me to be.”

  The door was knocked on and he went to answer it. A servant came in with a tray of food. The rich, savory aroma of beef and braised vegetables wafted up from the tray. Thin cuts of beef were piled on the trencher, covered with golden gravy, potatoes roasted and cut in the middle rested on another trencher.

  Taking the tray, Leith did not stop the woman from looking over at the Laird with wide wary eyes, then looked at him for—confirmation?—before she scurried away. He calmly settled the tray on his father’s lap, glad that the cooks had been mindful to cut the meat to portions his father could handle.

  “Mother,” he said, “will ye stay here with him?”

  She gave him a questioning look but did not ask, instead, she nodded, “Aye, I will.”

  He strode out and went directly outside. Self-loathing curled inside his stomach. How was it that one word from his father could affect him so deeply? It felt like a stab to his gut. Where had his strength disappeared to? The cold night air slapped his face and nearly through him but he welcomed the chill.

  His boasting to Tarrant about being able to handle many things at one time now felt hollow. Looking back up to the skies he wondered, Am I fit to be the laird or am I playing at it?

  Nothing felt right. Nothing at all. With a heavy heart, he went back to the main house and to his rooms. His bedchamber was bare, with just the essentials: a bed, two side tables, a few chairs, and three wooden trunks. The only thing that highlighted the room was the large tapestry of a rising sun, its orange rays piercing through the dark clouds around it.

  It was a stunning piece of tapestry, that for years had given him hope of better days. When his father had fallen ill, it was what he had used as a visual emblem of his faith in his father’s recovery. Now that it had come, he needed to use his birthright and be the clan’s Laird.

  He did not go to bed despite the physical need to rest pricking at him. Taking a seat, he leaned an elbow on the arm and massaged his brow. What was the first thing he needed to do now?

  Unlike most clans, there was no council to contend with and no meddlesome elders who had control issues. Nicolas controlled the soldiers but the responsibility for the villagers, the clans’ servants, and ties with nearby clans were his.

  He did not move from the chair until daylight began to dawn. He had not slept at all but he had gone through worse. Rising, he washed his face and changed his clothes. He headed directly toward his father’s room and knocked.

  “Enter,” his father’s voice was steadier than it had been last night and Leith took that for a good sign. He went inside to see his father inspecting the nailed window. “Were ye that scared I’d kill meself?”

  “Aye,” Leith replied directly as he swallowed his pride. “I wasnae going to take any chances when I kent ye were nae yerself.”

  Mirroring gray eyes met his with a sharper focus than last night. “What are ye here for so early?”

  “To say that ye were right,” Leith replied while squaring his shoulders. “I was busy with seeking a cure for ye, aye, but that shouldnae have stopped me from stepping into yer shoes. I have leaned on Nicolas' shoulder too long and now I’m ready to take over until ye are back on yer feet.”

  Pride warmed his father’s eyes, “Ye are, aren’t ye?”

  “Aye,” Leith said, “I will nae remove Nicolas but I will take over the rest. Our clan relations with our neighbors are strong. Robasdan has confirmed it nay too long ago and I ken that Denwen will stand strong. As far as I ken the villagers have the same needs always, and there are no reivers attempting to pillage us.”

  “And the servants?”

  Using caution, Leith replied, “Nothing about them has changed.”

  A sly smile curved his father’s lips. “Really now…what of that mute girl ye found near in the forest? I’d nay say nothing has changed if she’s added to us.”

  “Mary is nay issue,” Leith replied casually. “I suppose mother told ye about her, innit? She has nowhere to go and told Rinalda that her parents disowned her. She can have asylum here as long as she wants.”

  Nodding, Aaron said, “Aye, it is nay our way to turn those who need help from us. Speaking of lasses, have ye found yerself a wife yet?”

  Shaking his head mutely, Leigh sighed. “Nay, and before ye ask, I am nay running with laggards and flittering me time away with tavern women. Women with the standards I’m lookin’ for are in rare supply.”

  “Be sure to pick wisely still,” his father warned. “It’s nae easy son.”

  Rising, Leith bowed his head. “I ken…just as I ken I’m going to take a ride to the village and see what’s needed there.”

  His father waved him off and he left, feeling much better after having spoken to his father. Quickly, he passed by the great hall directly to the kitchens and called out for something warm to eat. He sat close to the doors with one boot cocked up on the tab
le’s foot.

  He twisted just in time to see Mary coming out with a tray in her hands. His breath left him with relief. Last night he had been so taken with thinking about his father, he had not even thought about Mary. It felt like another slap in his face. It felt like more proof that he could not handle two things at the same time.

  He swallowed heavily when Mary came closer and for good reason. Her dress, strange to him, was made with deep-green cloth. What had his jaw clenching tight in jealously was that her bodice was so tight, it had her breasts nearly spilling out.

  Nails bit into his palm but his face was devoid of any emotion. As she set the tray to his side, he growled. “Never ye wear that dress again, it’s indecent. Go to yer quarters and change. I dinnae care if ye wear sackcloth, but take this off.”

  Her mouth nearly opened but her lips snapped by quickly enough that no one saw. She ducked her head and nodded. Smooth curls of hair were on her damp cheek and this time it was him who had to stop from reaching out and plucking it away from her skin.

  As she walked away, the hall began to fill up but he ate quickly. All he noticed was that the food was hot. It would take a miracle if he could tell anyone how it tasted. Soon, he was off to the stables and on his horse.

  The roads of the village were busy mostly with men, going to the fields with farming tools slung over their shoulders and others roping animals to the pastures. They greeted him but few had time to talk. He had not expected that anyway as they could not give him what he wanted. For that, he needed the village leader, Angus Wallace.

  He headed to the far end of the village, where the leader’s house was. While most of the villagers’ houses were made of wood, Angus’ was a mix of dark basalt rock for the foundation, red brick, and wood.

  If Leith knew the man as well as he thought he did, Angus would be up and about, probably puttering about in the smokehouse he had or his little carpentry shack. He arrived at the house and hopped off the horse. Making sure to call out first, he opened the gate and led his horse in.

  Grass brushed his ankles as he led the horse to a hitching post. Securing him, he went to circle the house to the smokehouse and sure enough, smoke was coming from it. Shaking his head at how the man was a creature of habit, he rapped quickly on the door.

  “Enter, Young Lenichton,” a deep voice called through the door.

  Slipping inside, he entered and had a lungful of smoked beef, spiked with peppercorn and pimento. His mouth began to water immediately but he reached out to offer his hand. “Ye saw me, eh?”

  Angus shook his head as he deboned a leg, “Nay, but I ken yer knock. It's impatient.”

  Glancing around he noted the half carcass hanging from the rafter, with seasoned wood jabbed into the flesh. “How have ye been, Wallace?”

  “Middling,” Angus said as he wiped his hand. “Things are fair enough. At least we’re nay at war anymore. And the village is peaceful.”

  “That’s what I came to ask ye about,” Leith asked. “The villagers. What do they need? I cannae imagine they dinnae need anything as nay one had paid much attention to them from the day Faither got ill.”

  Angus frowned deeply. “What do ye mean nay one? Hasnae anyone told ye?”

  “About what?” Leith asked. “Did ye swear allegiance to another Laird in six months?”

  “Ye might say that,” Angus said as he gestured for Leith to go outside. The sun was getting warmer as they got to the wide back porch. Now, Leith was getting anxious. What did Angus mean by his statement?

  “Sir,” Angus said as they sat, “when the Laird fell ill and ye were busy, Mister Cooper took control of the village. He negotiates all the deals for cloth, medicine, ironworks, and all ye can ken of the people need. I haven’t had any part in doing anythin’ in five months. It’s all him.”

  Leith’s jaw nearly dropped. “Cooper? As in Nicolas Cooper? Me war chief?”

  “Aye,” Angus nodded, his greying auburn hair bobbing with him as his brown eyes went sober. “To be honest, yer going to have a warm time winning the people back from him. When ye had gone to Edinburgh to seek the healer for yer Faither, a band of ousted scoundrels from the north set to attack the village. Cooper got wind of it and ambushed the ambushers instead. Put two hundred of them to the sword without remorse…” Leith was gritting his teeth by the time Angus delivered the last blow. “The villagers take him for the Laird, Sir, nay yer Faither…nor ye.”

  17

  Trembling with anxiety, Mary carried the tray to the doorway of Laird Lenichton’s room. She had feared this but Lady Lenichton had begged her to do it the other night. She swallowed as one of the men, built like a brick house opened the door for her.

  “Easy lass,” the man smiled. “He’s nay dangerous now.”

  Sucking a deep breath, Mary entered the room. The man she now knew as Laird Lenichton, Leith’s father, was sitting on a chair and staring out a window. She made to say something but caught herself.

  “Ye can put the tray on the bed, lass,” the man said without even looking at her. “Yer the new one, arenae ye, the one who cannae talk.”

  He was not looking at her so he did not see her nod. Or, that was what she thought. This time, he did look at her and Mary was stuck staring at a pair of gray eyes that looked too much like Leith’s for her comfort. His gaze was piercing and her breath halted in her chest when his stare went on.

  When he finally freed her from his look his eyes flitted to the tray he sighed. “Me wife made that, dinnae she?”

  With no other way to answer, Mary nodded.

  “No disrespect to me wife lass,” the Laird huffed, “but take this …mush back to the kitchens and get me some real food. Meat, or fish, something filling. I despise porridge.”

  Relieved that he had not done anything to make her uncomfortable—nothing like that blue-eyed man, Nicolas Cooper, the man in charge of the troops—she took the tray and turned only to hear him call over his shoulder. “Yer welcome here as long as ye want to stay lass.”

  She looked back, but he was facing the window again, and she left back to the kitchens. The head cook met her and shook her head. “I kent he’d nay like that. Thank God, me followed me mind.” Without a pause, she produced a trencher of roasted meats.

  As Mary went to take it, the woman shook her head, “I’ll have someone take it up. Young Lenichton was here a moment ago askin’ for ye.”

  Leith!

  Her face lit up moments before she realized how it might look to the lady. Her sudden shift from elated to anxious, did not escape the lady’s look. “Pardon me, but why that look lass.” She came forward and dropped her voice, “Is he treating ye well?”

  Knowing she had to explain quickly, Mary nodded, she then signed that Leith was only asking her if she was well.

  “Oh,” the cook nodded, “he found ye. It only makes sense that he would be concerned. He’s one who worries too. Well then, run off, dinnae let him wait too long. He’s somewhere around here.”

  She nodded and turned, thinking where Leith could have gone. The rookery. Making sure no one was looking at her, she took the stairs to the high tower. She slipped into the half-open door to see Leith there with his arms braced on a wide window.

  “Leith?” her voice was nothing more than a whisper but it was enough to get him to turn.

  “I’m being undermined, Mary,” he said. “One of me Faither’s best men is taking his control from under him and by doing so, taking mine.”

  She rested a hand on his arm, “How?”

  “How else?” Leith said bitterly. “The opportunity was ripe. Me Faither was ill and I was all over the place like a headless chicken trying to find help. I ken he will say it was him protecting our legacy but I ken it’s something more. I ken he wanted me Father’s power but this? So barefaced?”

  Not knowing what to do, she only slid her hand down his arm to lace their fingers. “I’m sorry.”

  His hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her just under his chin. “S’not yer
fault, lass. It was mine. I was too blind and trustin’.”

  “Can you do anything about it?” she mumbled.

  “I hope I can get this straightened out without causing a war,” he said, as his fingers massaged the hairs on the tender skin. “If he had gained so much respect from the villagers, they might take to him. Even worse, the soldiers are more loyal to him than anyone else.”

  Soldiers loyal to him? What him? Is he speaking about Mister Cooper?

  “Pardon,” she pulled away from him, “are you speaking about Mister Cooper?”

  “Aye,” Leith said with caution, “why do ye ask?”

  Wrapping her arms around herself, Mary drew away. “I’ve crossed his path once or twice and I got a distinct impression that he does not like me.”