Highlander’s Royal Blood: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance

by Ann Marie Scott

  Easily. If she said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, she would be embarrassing all who had faith she could do this. Katherine knew that Arran’s reputation as a fair and just laird would be in question, especially since the clan was used to seeing him be present these past three years. Katherine could be put into the same group as Liam was, another failure for the McDougal clan, and the clan would be on the verge of disappearing altogether.

  No, she could not allow that to happen. She would do everything in her power to keep the clan growing and safe for years to come.

  2

  Cameron strode into the great hall, the smell of sweet rushes and the faint hint of unwashed bodies heavy in the air. The place was packed full of McDougal tartan, with a few of Mcaiwn visible in the crush. They were here to ensure that there was no trouble during the ceremony and show support for the new ruler of the McDougal clan.

  He just couldn’t believe the day had finally arrived. Was she really old enough to take over? The years had passed in a blur with him being Arran’s second-in-command, leading their warriors into small skirmishes and proving his worth. Since the bloody battle with McDougal over three years ago, they had relatively lived in peace, which was unusual for their clan.

  Still, he had learned not to just focus his attention on battles and warriors. Cameron had established a small farm just outside of the Mcaiwn village, enjoying the solitude the farming brought. Arran teased him mercilessly about his new trade, but Cameron knew his laird was happy he had found a measure of peace.

  Now they were here, on McDougal land and not in battle. He had made this trek with Arran quite a few times over the past three years when Arran would meet with the council and provide tutelage to Katherine McDougal.

  The thought of her name caused Cameron to frown. He leaned up against the stone wall, his eyes roving over the crowd before him. The spoiled child he had brought to her cousin that fateful day had haunted his dreams for three years. It was those damned tears that he remembered above anything else and how she had nearly brought him to his knees. She had been nothing but a child then and still was, in his opinion.

  Far too young to be leading a clan.

  The crowd suddenly quieted, and Cameron straightened as he found Arran as the reason, the laird making his appearance with a grin on his face. Next to him was his wife, Ainslee, and their daughter, Myra, who had their entire clan wrapped around her chubby little finger.

  Himself included.

  But it was the woman who stood in the arched doorway that led to the great hall, her hands clasped before her. As it always did every time he saw her, his breath stuttered in his chest, and Cameron fought the urge to turn around and leave the room.

  She was lovely. Gone was the girl he had drug across the moors, and in her place was a woman, her expression blank as she moved forward and looked straight ahead. The gown she was wearing did nothing to diminish the curves of her frame, and Cameron swallowed hard as she passed by, wondering why he had not noticed her like this before.

  This was not the Katherine McDougal he remembered.

  The lass he remembered had wiry hair and the temperament to match. He had never met a lass that had gotten under his skin so quickly, but she had, and the day that he had brought her to the Mcaiwn keep had been the day he had thought he would never see her again.

  Yet here he was, watching her as she became the leader of a clan and a powerful lass in her own right.

  He felt proud.

  Cameron watched as she took her place next to Arran and the council that surrounded her, waiting for the older clansmen to join them to make everything official.

  Cameron barely heard their words, drinking in the sight of a woman he hadn’t noticed before. The times he had come with Arran, he had been sent to ensure that the clan’s warriors were up to snuff, which meant he had spent a great deal of time training.

  He hadn’t spent hardly any time at all in Katherine’s presence.

  Now, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Her voice rang loud and clear as she repeated the elder’s words, though her eyes betrayed her nervousness, how she kept glancing at Arran for his approval. Soon she would be on her own, and Cameron couldn’t help but wonder if she was ready for this change in her life.

  Not that he cared.

  Cameron drew in a breath, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the proceedings. After today he would only see her in passing, perhaps when the cousins visited each other. She would go forward and eventually marry a Scot that would rule at her side. He, too, had been thinking recently that he needed to wed a village girl so he could carry on his bloodline—that and it would give him something to look forward to after a long training day. While the women were always willing, they didn’t look at him as anything more than a coin or two.

  Not that he minded, but he wasn’t getting any younger, as Arran liked to remind him.

  “What say ye, oh clan of mine?” the elder called out, turning toward the crowd that had gathered. “Do ye take this lass as yer leader? Do ye put the clan’s fate in her hands to carry us forward into the future?”

  “Aye!”

  Cameron saw the small twitch of Katherine’s lips as the clan before her gave her a resounding yes. It had to be a good feeling knowing that they approved of her, for if they didn’t, she would struggle to lead them.

  He hoped she had not lost her stubbornness.

  Suddenly, the doors burst open.

  “Fire!”

  The crowd went into an uproar, but Cameron was already making his way to his laird and his family, drawing his sword that hung in the scabbard strapped to his back. “Arran,” he said urgently, “’tis time tae get ye tae safety.”

  Arran waved him off, ushering his wife and daughter toward the doorway. “See tae Katherine.”

  Cameron grunted and took off after the newly appointed lady, finding her amongst the sea of panicked clansmen. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the way, seeing the fright on her face. “Lass, come with me.”

  To his surprise, she gripped his arm. “Come on. We need tae see if anyone is injured.”

  “Nay,” he said, attempting to tug her toward the set of stairs that would take her to the second landing. “Yer safety—”

  “Means nothing if mah clan isnae,” she finished for him, ripping her arm out of his and marching forward. Cameron swore and started after her. She had not lost her stubbornness, that was for certain.

  It took some time for him to catch up with her, pushing his way through the crowd and outside, where the cool air was heavy with smoke. The one thing McDougal had done right during his reign was to fortify the keep first. He had built a wall around the keep and inner courtyard, with parquets and walkways for the guards that were typically posted up top. Given the day, none had been posted along the walkway that flanked the top of the wall, which was probably good considering much of the wall was on fire.

  “No!” Katherine gasped, her hand at her throat as she saw the damage.

  Cameron lowered his sword as he stood beside her, seeing no other threat other than the fire. The warriors were attempting to put the flames out, and by the sheer number of them in attendance, Cameron deemed that he was not needed. “Come, lass,” he tried again, tucking his sword back into its scabbard. “’Tis not a place ye need tae be.”

  She didn’t argue, but he could feel the anger and rage radiating off her body as they walked back into the keep, where her council awaited her presence. Cameron held back, allowing Katherine to join them before he turned around and stalked out of the keep, surveying the damage once more. It didn’t take him long to locate the source of the fire, and his jaw clenched at the sight.

  This was no accident.

  “Wot is it?” Arran asked as he joined Cameron in the courtyard.

  Cameron pointed at the burned-out barrel that sat against the wall. “’Tis not an accident.”

  Arran swore. “That was mah fear. A wall doesnae just go up in flames unless there is a reason
.”

  “And good timing as well,” Cameron muttered, sliding his hand through his hair. “Wot do ye want tae do?”

  “I dinnae know,” Arran sighed as the two men turned away from the damage. “Maybe it was an accident.”

  Cameron chuckled, clapping his laird on his shoulder. “And I am tae be the next king of England. Maybe it was just someone trying tae get a rile out of the lady on her first day.” That could be the case. Katherine had been hidden behind Arran for the last three years, and no one had seen her reaction to any affairs of the clan. He could see someone, likely a rogue supporter, wanting to see how their lady would react to a crisis.

  “Perhaps,” Arran murmured as they entered the hall. The crowd had dispersed, and now the servants were laying out what was to be Katherine’s celebratory luncheon with her council and her family. Cameron would not be in attendance for this affair. “Go on and investigate this discreetly. I need tae know if mah family is in danger.”

  “Aye,” Cameron replied, clasping his hand over his heart and turning on his heel. He knew that Arran did not just mean his family, but Katherine as well. She was a part of their family.

  How is she doing?

  Cameron snorted and pushed the thought out of his mind. He didn’t care how she was doing. In a few days, they would be leaving this place for home, and he would only see her sparingly. She was still the stubborn lass that had talked his ear clean off when he had rescued her the first time.

  She didn’t need him rescuing her again.

  Cameron spent the rest of the morning slinking through the village, visiting the far less reputable areas in hopes there would be word about who had started the fire.

  He found nothing. The village was far more focused on celebrating their new leader, and more than once, a tankard of ale had been thrust into his hands, urging him to drink to the woman that was to be the lady of the keep.

  He hadn’t turned down the opportunity, and as he made his way back to the keep, his head swam from the numerous toasts he had been part of. Cameron entered the great hall and halted in his stumbled steps as he met the eyes of the one woman he had hoped to avoid, seeing them narrow at his state.

  “Wot?” he asked.

  She sniffed. Dressed in a simple gown, with her hair falling about her shoulders, she looked nothing like the regal lass that had taken the pledge to become a fair and just ruler only hours before.

  She looked innocent, and Cameron felt a surge of protectiveness well up in his chest, reminding him of the tear-filled girl from his past.

  The one that still haunted him to this day.

  “I see that ye have been enjoying yerself,” she finally said, crossing her arms over her ample chest. Cameron bit back a groan at the shift of her body, his eyes lazily tracing her curved frame inside the shapeless dress she wore.

  How could he have never noticed her before like this?

  Because he had made certain to keep himself away from her, that’s how.

  “I’ve been toasting tae yer long reign, mah lady,” he replied, sweeping into a bow. “Long live Katherine.”

  “Are ye mocking me?”

  Cameron smirked as he straightened, feeling the familiar pull of annoyance on his soul. That’s how she had always made him feel from the moment he had taken her from this keep to the moment he had delivered her to Arran. “There ye are,” he muttered, the room starting to spin wildly. “The stubborn lass I remember.”

  “Funny,” she answered, her voice tight. “I dinnae remember ye as a drunkard.”

  Cameron grinned at her, delivering another sweeping bow. “I live tae serve ye, lass—I mean, lady. Ye are a lady now, aren’t ye?”

  She sniffed, looking down at him. “Ye aren’t mah clan, Cameron. Ye dinnae serve me.”

  He watched as she stormed off, leaving him to fall into one of the nearby chairs to keep the room from spinning. Cameron had wondered if she had outgrown her stubbornness, but it was clear to him that she had not. She was still the lass he remembered.

  Rubbing a hand over his face, Cameron closed his eyes. In a matter of days, he would be gone, and now that her future was secure, he would work on his as well.

  She was right about one thing. While he had enjoyed his ale before he met her, it was her that had made him drink far too much recently. He should not be here. He was ready to depart for home and forget that he had ever laid his eyes on Katherine McDougal.

  3

  The next morning, Katherine sat at the head of the table, trying not to fidget as she listened to her council conduct business. It was the most challenging part of this position, sitting still for hours and listening to her clansmen argue about mundane things like borders and territories. It mattered not to her if the border was a foot away from its original position or a mile, as long as it was secured.

  No one seemed to care about that.

  When she had woke this morning, nothing had felt different. She had the title that she had worked three long years for, but she did not feel like she had any more power than the day before.

  Nor did she imagine that her council would look at her any differently, and so far, Katherine had been correct in her assumptions.

  It was like she wasn’t even here today. When Arran had been seated in this chair, they had listened to him.

  Well, rather, he had not given them another option. He was not afraid to interrupt, to disagree, and Katherine wished she had the same manner about her. These were her peers, the elder and most respected members of their clan, yet she was supposed to lead them?

  Perhaps she had not thought this through before today.

  Her council was a mite smaller than Arran’s, with six members that had been handpicked by Arran and herself three years ago. She had dismissed Liam’s council the moment that it was known her cousin was dead, and those that refused had been thrown into the dungeon to be dealt their punishments. His council had been just like him: bloodthirsty. And while their pockets were lined with coin, the clan had suffered.

  Their clan did not need anyone like that in their rule.

  With the even amount of the council, it was up to Katherine to break any ties in their voting or to be the deciding factor if a decision could not be reached.

  The door to her study opened, and Arran strode in, causing the council to cease their discussion. “Wot is the meaning of this interruption?” One of her council members asked, a frown on his weathered face. “We have allowed ye tae be laird over our clan for three years. Now we no longer need ye.”

  “I have one more issue tae discuss,” Arran replied evenly, bracing his hands on the scarred table. He didn’t look bothered by the accusation, but Katherine wanted to throw out the clansman that had not shown his appreciation for what Arran had done for them. He had taken his enemy’s clan and shown no ill will toward them, even though they had nearly killed him. He would always have a seat at her council table for as long as he liked.

  “Go on,” she stated, surprising the room. Until now she had been quiet, afraid to speak up lest they just ignored her.

  He nodded at her. “I dinnae think that the fire was accidental.”

  Immediately there was conversation in the room, and Katherine bit her lip, thinking about the fire that had nearly ruined her coronation day. The fire had been extinguished, and the wall was already in the process of being repaired. The reason had not been identified, but since she had gone through the rest of that day and part of the next without incident, to her, it was safe to say that the fire had been an accident.

  “Wot makes ye think that?” Ian, the leader of the council, asked. Katherine knew that Ian had been chosen because of his staunch support of what was best for the McDougal clan, and while he could voice his opinion, she felt like he would always concede for what was best for their future. In the event of her absence, he would step in, acting on her behalf.

  Arran glared at him. “Wot makes ye think that it wasnae? That fire wasnae accidental. Anyone could see that.”

  Ian fr
owned. “Ye are the only one that thinks it, Laird Mcaiwn. ’Tis no longer yer concern. We will protect our lady.”

  Arran looked at Katherine for help, pleading with his eyes, and she cleared her throat, knowing that he was not going to like her answer. “I agree with mah council on this one,” she stated. “I dinnae think that the fire was intentional, Laird Mcaiwn. ’Tis nothing more than an incident with ill-placed timing. I am alive and well, as ye can see, and there is nay need to raise alarm.”

  Arran’s gaze narrowed, and she swallowed, knowing she had just gone against the man who had taught her everything she knew. She had to get the council’s approval as their leader, and going against their feelings on this would just cause the rift to be more significant. Katherine wasn’t remiss in knowing that the council did not trust her to be their leader. She had not proven herself without the help of Arran, nor had she truly been the next in line to lead the clan.

  That title would have gone to Ainslee, considering that Liam had been her brother.

  But now that Ainslee was wed and clearly happy with Arran’s clan, all they had was Katherine, and she had to prove that she could effectively lead this clan.

  Katherine knew he was trying to protect her, but if she wasn’t safe with her own clan, then there was no reason for her to be here.

  “I see,” he finally said, his jaw clenched as he pushed away from the table. “Well then, pray continue.”

  His voice was tight with anger, and Katherine knew they would be discussing this later. After all, he was still her cousin by marriage.

  Arran quit the room, and Ian looked pointedly at Katherine. “While I appreciate all the work that yer cousin has provided tae our clan, we no longer require his services.”

  “There is no reason for worry,” she responded, hoping that her voice wasn’t shaking. “He will be going home in a few days. I will speak tae him tae hold his tongue until then.” The thought made her sick to her stomach to tell Arran so, but it was the right thing to do. This was her clan and her council now, no longer his.