A Promise for Tomorrow

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by Michele Paige Holmes




  A Promise for Tomorrow

  A Hearthfire Scottish Historical Romance

  Book 2

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  A Promise for Tomorrow (A Hearthfire Scottish Romance, #2)

  Other Books by Michele Paige Holmes

  Prologue

  Part One

  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

  Part Two

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Part Three

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Next from Michele Paige Holmes

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  About Michele Paige Holmes

  Acknowledgments

  Michele Paige Holmes

  Copyright © 2017 Michele Paige Holmes

  E-book edition

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles. This novel is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialog are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Interior Design by Heather Justesen

  Edited by Cassidy Wadsworth Sorenson and Lisa Shepherd

  Cover design by Rachael Anderson

  Cover Image Credit: Brekke Felt, Studio 15 Portraits

  Cover Model: Kara Moore

  Published by Mirror Press, LLC

  eISBN-13: 978-1-947152-13-7

  eISBN-10: 1-947152-13-0

  Other Books by Michele Paige Holmes

  Counting Stars

  All the Stars in Heaven

  My Lucky Stars

  Captive Heart

  A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection

  Timeless Regency Collection: A Midwinter Ball

  Hearthfire Historical Romance Series:

  Saving Grace

  Loving Helen

  Marrying Christopher

  Twelve Days in December

  Hearthfire Scottish Historical Romance Series:

  Yesterday’s Promise

  A Promise for Tomorrow

  The Promise of Home

  Forever After Series:

  First Light

  Power of the Matchmaker series:

  Between Heaven and Earth

  Dear Reader,

  The book you hold in your hands (or view on your e-reader) is the second installment in the Hearthfire Scottish Historical Romance series. While A Promise for Tomorrow is an exciting and romantic read all on its own, it begins with the hero and heroine already having become acquainted and having gone through several previous adventures. May I strongly suggest that if you have not done so already, you read the first book, Yesterday’s Promise, in the series before beginning this one.

  Yesterday’s Promise is the story of how Collin MacDonald— a Scottish laird— and Katherine Mercer— daughter of an English soldier— meet and marry. Starting at the beginning of their story will make this book a more fulfilling read. A Promise for Tomorrow begins immediately after the last chapter of Yesterday’s Promise. The Promise of Home, the conclusion of this trilogy, will be available in spring 2018.

  Originally, I had hoped to keep this series to two books, but the Scottish Highlands in the late 18th century is a time period rich in both historical significance and tragic events. In the aftermath of the failed Jacobite uprising of 1745, stringent laws had been enacted and English patrols were present in the Highlands to enforce them. Many of the events in this story are based in fact— men’s bodies really were left on the gallows for eighteen months, as a warning to others who would think to defy the crown. The penalty for a Highlander caught in possession of a firearm was fourteen years indenture in the Colonies.

  Perhaps most tragic of all, the clans themselves were changing internally. With their abilities to lead and rule stripped from them, clan chiefs or lairds began thinking of monetary gain rather than the care of their people. Sheep replaced families who had lived on the land for generations. The Highlanders driven from their ancestral homes fled to the coast and cities looking for work. Others immigrated to the Colonies. It was a time of great upheaval and change for Scotland, and she was never to be the same.

  It is my hope with this trilogy, to capture a small bit of that time— the story of a resilient people who did their best to hold onto the past while forging bravely into an unknown and vastly different future. Amidst the records of my own Scottish ancestors, I’ve read of tragedy and hardship, yet also seen glimpses of love and joy... family. Katie and Collin have become like family to me, throughout the telling of their story. I hope you will feel the same and enjoy every page of their journey.

  Happy reading.

  Michele

  Prologue

  The Scottish Highlands, October 1746

  Collin

  I curled in a ball on my side. This night was colder than any I’d had at the old Campbell keep thus far. The thin blanket did little to protect me from the hard stone floor, and I shivered uncontrollably, from pain as much as from the temperature. I had welts and would feel them for days.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I grimaced, imagining the taunts I’d receive. Nearly everyone who worked in the castle had witnessed my punishment for planning an ill-fated escape. I imagined that long after the pain subsided, many would still remind me, the enemy MacDonald, of it.

  Behind me Katie’s door creaked open. My four-year-old charge had attempted to get past me before, but I wouldn’t have believed she’d try it tonight— not after I’d been both beaten because of her and then taken an additional beating for her.

  I waited, not moving, for the right moment to catch Katie at her mischief. Laird Campbell was right; there would be other times I felt like strangling her.

  The hem of her sleeping gown brushed the tip of my nose as she stepped over me. Her familiar childlike scent, all innocence and flowers— or so the soap she washed with implied— wafted down. I wasn’t fooled. In the few weeks of my captivity and our acquaintance I’d come to know her as an impish waif. Another second and I’d reach out and grab her ankle before she could cause any more trouble.

  “I’m sorry, Collin.” A blanket fell across my shoulders, and she dropped to the floor beside me. “Please don’t hate m
e. I didn’t mean for you to be hurt. I just didn’t want you to leave.” She curled up beside me, as if intending to sleep right there.

  “Go back to bed, Katie.” I tried for a stern tone, but the pain interfered.

  “I’m sleeping here tonight. And I’ve brought you my pillow.” She thrust the ball of fluffy cloth at me, inadvertently plunging a stray feather up my nostril.

  I held back a sneeze and shoved the pillow back at her. “You can’t sleep here. Your grandfather would do more than beat me for that.”

  “He would?” She sat up straight, and in the dim light I caught her horrified expression.

  “Aye. He wants you safe, and that is behind a locked door.”

  “I don’t like being kept in there. Or guarded.”

  That made two of us.

  “No one likes being confined,” I said as a shiver passed through the lass and me at the same time. I leaned up on my elbow and nudged her. “You should go back to your room before more trouble finds us.”

  She made no move to go. “Do you hate me?”

  I closed my eyes in frustration. “I might, if you don’t go back to bed.” Whether or not she slept wasn’t my concern. Just so she was on the other side of that door.

  “I don’t hate you.” She leaned forward, groping through the dark for my hand.

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I grumbled.

  “I’m sorry I told Grandfather you were planning to escape.” Her small fingers curled over mine. “I don’t mean to be awful. I’m just— scared. Do you ever feel that way?”

  More often than not lately, since my father’s death and my subsequent landing in a hot bed of Campbells. But I didn’t tell her that.

  “Everyone is afraid sometimes,” I said, hoping that would be enough to appease the lass and send her back to bed. “What are you afraid of?” Still grasping my hand, she knelt beside me and leaned in, as if anxious to hear my answer. You. I didn’t say it aloud— didn’t need to. Katie reared back as if struck.“Me?” she whispered, sounding amazed rather than hurt. “You feel it too, what happened when Grandfather said those words over us. It scares you.”

  There was no point in denying it when she’d read my mind anyway. “Aye. It does worry me.” More than anything else had before or since. I’d take a lot more beatings like the one I’d endured tonight if that meant I could be free of the burden I felt, the very real knowledge that the future was no longer mine to command— entirely. Laird Campbell had said I might have some choices. But always, they would be governed by the thought of the lass. Our lives were entwined now, whether or not we wished it.

  “I’m sorry you’re afraid.” Katie apologized for the third time in as many minutes. “I’m sorry you have to stay here with me. But I’m also glad that you are.” She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “Goodnight, Collin. I won’t come out of my room again. Even when I have nightmares.” She jumped up and was gone quicker than she’d appeared.

  I waited until I’d heard the door close and she’d turned the lock before laying my head down again— on her pillow. She’d left it. Her blanket too. I guessed she really was contrite. Perhaps things would be different between us now, the days not quite so difficult as they had been.

  Part One

  A day to come seems longer than a year that's gone.

  Chapter One

  Campbell lands, Scottish Highlands, July 1761

  Katie

  We didn’t have to knock. Liusaidh waited as I had seen her, standing in the open doorway of her small home, her face turning slowly to and fro, as if searching for someone. She was not watching but listening. Liusaidh was blind.

  “Hello,” Collin, my husband of two weeks, called out when we’d dismounted Ian’s horse and tethered it securely a short distance from her front door.

  Her mouth opened, but she said nothing at first, though she turned in our direction. “Collin? Collin MacDonald, is that you?”

  “Aye,” he called and strode toward her, into her open arms. I watched as she hugged him the way a mother might hug her grown child.

  “And who’ve you brought with you?” Liusaidh asked when they had parted and she wiped at her wet, sightless eyes.

  “My bride.” Collin straightened and puffed his chest out proudly, though she could not see it. I felt grateful she could not see me either, or she might have doubted his show of boasting. I was not looking my best.

  Avoiding the chickens pecking about the yard, I walked over to them, every part of my body aching. Our unconventional wedding trip had consisted of traveling from my home in England to the Highlands of Scotland, to my mother’s people, the Campbells. Along the way I had come to understand the dangers my new life was to entail, including a brother-in-law who wished me dead, and my own clan chief who wished my husband dead. Collin and I had not had an easy time of it.

  In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, we had grown close over the past several days. He held his hand out to me now, and I clasped it, grateful to be at his side, grateful to my grandfather who, years before, had the foresight— literally— to betroth me to Collin.

  “Hello.” I curtsied before Liusaidh, then straightened to find her reaching toward me. Collin nodded, and I stepped forward, allowing Liusaidh to run her fingers over my face.

  “Katherine’s lass,” she whispered.

  “Aye. It’s Katie. I’ve brought her home at last,” Collin said.

  “Bless you both. Bless us all,” Liusaidh exclaimed, pushing past me to stretch her neck in either direction once more. “Come away in.” She ushered us inside, then closed and barred the door behind her.

  She stood there a moment, emotions flittering across her face with surprising rapidness. Her hands twisted with nervousness and perhaps fear, even as her face held a deep sorrow. But she seemed to push past each as she greeted us once more.

  “Goodness, Collin. It’s been years. And you, lass, you were just a wee thing the last time you crossed my doorstep.”

  “It is good to see you again,” I said politely, though I had no recollection of ever knowing her.

  “Wish I might say the same.” She laughed at her own joke.

  I sent a despairing look at Collin. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Not to worry about it.” Liusaidh waved away my concern. “Collin knows I like to jest with people. I’ve been blind my entire life and don’t know anything else. It is no bother to me and no shame at all.”

  “The name Liusaidh comes from Saint Lucia,” Collin said, “the patron saint of the blind who was a fourth-century martyr, said to have had her eyes gouged out.”

  Liusaidh clasped her hands together. “You did listen during your lessons.”

  “Of course,” Collin said. “Laird Campbell would have taken the strap to me if I didn’t.” To me he said, “I came here for my church learning. Seeing as I was a MacDonald, your grandfather feared services once a week weren’t enough to make me into a good, God-fearing, man. Liusaidh made certain I learned the name and story of every patron saint there is, along with the stories in the Bible, the commandments—”

  “And basic manners.” Liusaidh frowned at Collin. “Why have you not removed your muddy boots? Do you think I can’t hear them squishing across my floor?”

  Collin looked guiltily at his boots while I directed my smile toward Liusaidh. “I have you to thank for gentling him, then.”

  “Och, aye. And what a task that was.” She boxed Collin’s ear as she walked past. “I imagine the two of you are fair starved. I’ve some fresh fish the lads brought me today. I’d be happy to share with you.”

  Collin and I exchanged looks of dismay, and I covered my mouth to keep from laughing— or possibly crying. Fish again? We had eaten little else as we’d made our way through the Highland wilds.

  “What I would really love is a bath, if that would not be too much trouble. I can heat my own water and—”

  “By the smell of you, you’re both in need of a bath and a change of clothes
.” Liusaidh carried a tea tray over to us and placed it on the lone table in the room. “I’ve nothing much for you, Collin, but Katie, I’ll wager you’ll find something useful in that trunk over there.” She pointed to a large, ornately carved chest near the hearth. “Your grandfather brought it to me for safekeeping many years ago— said you’d stop by for it someday. It belonged to your mother.”

  * * *

  I sat near the fire, drying my hair, when Collin returned with an armload of wood. “I’ve enough cut to last a good month or more, assuming you’ll not need much in the summer.” He stopped abruptly, peering around the dimly lit room for Liusaidh.

  “She’s gone to sleep,” I whispered, pointing to the blanket that hung across the room, dividing her bed from the rest of the tiny house.

  Collin nodded sheepishly, then carefully placed his load in the wood box. I rose to help, but he waved me away.

  “You’re all clean.”

  “You are too.” He’d bathed after me but then, realizing Liusaidh had no wood, had gone out to cut some for her.

  “Aye, well, that never lasts long.” He smiled ruefully.

  I returned to my spot near the fire and continued brushing my hair, using the silver brush and comb set I’d found in my mother’s trunk. The trunk promised many more treasures, but for tonight I had located a sleeping gown only, happy to have something clean to wear. The bath itself had been heavenly, but equally divine was the thought of never wearing the filthy dress I’d arrived in again. Whatever else I found in my mother’s trunk, it would surely be better.

  Collin took one of the blankets from the pile Liusaidh had laid out for us, then handed me another. I took it reluctantly, feeling somewhat disappointed that circumstances would not force us to huddle together for warmth. The past few nights, while not the most comfortable sleep I had ever enjoyed, had been entirely pleasant in their own way. Collin’s chest at my back and his arm securely around me had been comforting. I loved listening to his deep and steady breathing as he slept. I enjoyed waking each morning, my first sight his face close to mine.

  Was that not to be now that we were on Campbell land? Would we even share a bedchamber? In the house I’d grown up in my parents had two chambers that connected to one another. The night before my sister Anna’s wedding we had all slept at her bridegroom’s home, while he stayed at his parents’ town home. Anna had shown me the room that was to be hers, also with a connecting door to her husband’s.

 

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