Heart Of A Highlander (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Join My VIP Readers’ Club List

  A Personal Note From Emilia Ferguson

  Dedication

  About The Author

  Heart Of A Highlander

  CHARACTERS LIST

  *

  PROLOGUE

  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

  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

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Heart Of A Highlander

  Lairds of Dunkeld Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

  Emilia Ferguson

  MOUNTAINSKY HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Join My VIP Readers’ Club List

  A Personal Note From Emilia Ferguson

  Dedication

  About The Author

  Heart Of A Highlander

  CHARACTERS LIST

  *

  PROLOGUE

  *

  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

  *

  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

  *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  *

  CHAPTER FORTY

  *

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  *

  EPILOGUE

  *

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  Also By Emilia Ferguson

  Acknowledgement

  If You Have Enjoyed This Book…

  Publisher’s Notes

  Copyright © 2017 by EMILIA FERGUSON & MOUNTAINSKY HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not intentional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Cover designed by Ms Melody Simmons. Author has the copyrights to this cover.

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  A PERSONAL NOTE

  FROM EMILIA FERGUSON

  To My Dearest Lovely Readers,

  There is something picturesque and dramatic about the Scottish Highlands. Not only the landscape, which is mysterious, with its own special wildness and drama. It is the people themselves.

  Scottish people are the original untamed spirits: proud, wild, forthright, in touch with their inner selves. The Medieval period in Scotland is a fascinating one for contrasts: half the country was steeped in Medieval culture - knights, ladies, housecarls and maids - and the other half was a maelstrom of wild clans people; fighting, living and loving straight from the heart.

  If the two halves - the wild and the courtly - meet up, what will happen? And how will these proud women and untamed men react when brought together by social expectations, requirements and ambitions?

  Read on to find out the answers!

  Thank you very much for your strong support to my writing journey!

  With Hugs, Kisses and Love…

  DEDICATION

  Men always want to be a woman's first love - women like to be man's last romance.

  Oscar Wilde

  This Story Is Specially Dedicated To You, My Dearest Reader!

  It is with gratefulness and gratitude that I am writing to you this personal dedication.

  Thank you once again for giving me this opportunity to share with you my creative side.

  I hope you will enjoy reading this story as much I have enjoyed writing it!

  It is with such great support from you that we authors continue to write, presenting you with great storie
s.

  Have you checked out my other western historical romance books series?

  Click the link below to get started

  *** AMAZON USA ***

  Do you like what you have read?

  I want to hear from you!

  Please do get in touch with me:

  facebook.com/EmiliaFergusonBooks

  [email protected]

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Emilia Ferguson is the pen name of an author who writes historical romance with her husband. Her hometown is California, but currently she is living in hot tropical Singapore where she enjoys hot summer the whole year round.

  When she is not writing her Medieval Historical Scottish Romance pieces, she enjoys taking long walks with her husband and kids at the nearby beaches.

  It was these long walks where she got inspirations and ideas for her stories. She credits her wonderfully supportive husband John, her great cover designer Ms Melody Simmons and her advance review reviewers for helping her to fine-tune her writing skills and allowing her creativity to explode.

  HEART OF A HIGHLANDER

  A MEDIEVAL SCOTTISH ROMANCE STORY

  by

  EMILIA FERGUSON

  and

  MountainSky House Publishing Co.

  CHARACTERS LIST

  CHARACTERS LIST

  The following are a list of characters featured in this book #1.

  Estate Name: Lochlann Castle

  Family name: Lochlann

  Laird: Brien Lochlann

  Mother: Joanna Lochlann, (deceased)

  Father: Louis du Mas, count of Annecy

  Daughter: Amabel du Mas

  Daughter: Alina du Mas

  Ward: Heath Fraser

  Aunt: Frances Lochlann, (deceased)

  Uncle: Artair Connelly, (deceased)

  Cousin: Chrissie Connelly

  Aunt: Aili Lochlann

  Uncle: Alec Brodway, (deceased)

  Head of household guard: Blaine MacNeil

  Estate Name: Dunkeld Keep

  Family name: MacConnaway

  Laird: Adair MacConnaway

  Son: Broderick MacConnaway

  Son: Duncan MacConnaway

  Estate Name: Athol Castle

  Family name: Mentieth

  Father: Donald Mentieth, his grace the Duke of Athol

  Mother: Colla Lochlann

  Daughter: Jeanne Mentieth

  PROLOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  Darkness. The wan, inky dark of night, shot through with flame-light. Broderick MacConnaway opened sleep-heavy eyes and tried to remember where he was. The light of the dying fire rippled the muscles of his chest as he ran a weary hand down his face. What had woken him?

  Then he heard the shouts.

  “Lord! The great hall is on fire!”

  A guard burst into his bedchamber, eyes wild. Broderick stared at him an instant, uncomprehending, then leaped out of bed.

  “What?”

  Aisling, Broderick's wife, sat up, clutching the coverlets to her. Broderick stroked her hand. He looked into her beautiful, terrified green eyes. He tried to reassure her, even while his own heart pounded.

  “Hush yersel', dear. I'll go and see.”

  She smiled wanly.

  “Thank you, dear. Go safely.”

  “I shall.”

  Broderick kissed his lady wife on her soft, red lips, stumbled out of the castle door and into the courtyard, called on by the shouts of his men. He walked into a nightmare scene of smoke, blood and burning.

  “My lord?” A man-at-arms ran to him through the fog. When he noticed he was not Adair, the MacConnaway, Thane of Dunkeld, but his eldest son, he paused. “Broderick?”

  “Aye.”

  “Help us, my lord! We need to save the people.”

  “Cannae we save the fortress?”

  “It's too late. The enemy are everywhere.”

  Broderick did not want to believe that. He scanned the courtyard but he could not see through the pouring ink-black smoke.

  The smoke was everywhere. It stung the eyes, just as the sound of flames eating through the thatch stung the ears. How the fires had been lit so quickly and with no warning, he had no idea. The noise was loud enough now to overwhelm the rest of the sounds. The place was a sea of swords on shields, shouts and battle cries.

  The battle cries. The worst noise. Not because of the sound—Broderick was a seasoned warrior, past thirty, who understood and ignored their intimidation and threats. It was the volume, as if they had no end.

  So many warriors.

  They filled the courtyard, swarming into the colonnade and the town beyond. Men in mail and kilts, broad of shoulder and bearing death. Swinging swords, hefting axes, setting fire to the buildings. As he watched, he saw a man in a tartan kilt beat down the door of one of the rooms. He knew the weave of that kilt. Bradley tartan.

  The man had found the servants’ rooms. Broderick heard cackles, whoops... and then the screams began.

  A second later, even as he ran toward the castle to prevent it, Broderick saw his worst nightmare realized. Aisling, his wife, had arrived.

  Her hair, bright in flame-light, streamed back from her brow as she ran. Her back was straight, skin gold in the light of torch and fire. He shouted then. Shouted for her to stop. To go back. To run.

  She had heard the cries, too, and come to save the maids. The whole world was in slow motion. Broderick saw her run at the men who had opened the door. He heard her cry of horror and then her battle cry. She swung a staff at the nearest attacker as she screamed it.

  Then he saw the man with the ax. She had not seen him. Standing in the shadows behind her, he raised his ax.

  “Aisling!” he screamed.

  She fell.

  The bright hair tumbled into blackness, covered with soot. Broderick was immobile with horror. He could not scream. Could not move.

  The man with the ax wiped the blade free of blood and then ran back to the shattered door. The door Aisling died to protect. The axe man walked inside, intent on plunder, and the screams continued. Screams, and blood and fire and death – more death.

  Each night in Broderick's dreams, the same scene played out. Again and again. And each time, she fell. In falling, she had killed Broderick’s heart. Each night, he remembered. He also remembered who was responsible. Bradley tartan.

  Broderick's family had rebuilt almost everything they had lost, except their men-at-arms. They simply did not have the force to take on their enemies. Not when they were backed by powerful allies, the Macadams. To avenge himself, Broderick would have find an army.

  And the easiest way to do that is to wed. Marriages meant alliances, and alliances brought strength.

  Sitting in his bedchamber, firelight illuminating the furs on the bed in soft orange, Broderick knew he would never love again. His heart had died with Aisling. He could not love his new bride, whoever she would be. Tomorrow, he might find out who that was.

  He had scheduled a meeting with the Earl of Cawley, the most powerful man in the region, who had three marriageable kinswomen – Amabel, Alina and Chrissie. If the earl agreed to accept his offer, he would have access to the entire force of men of Lochlann Castle.

  He would travel there tomorrow.

  CHAPTER ONE

  DRESSING FOR DINNER

  DRESSING FOR DINNER

  “Must I see another suitor?”

  Amabel du Mas rolled her eyes. She heard her younger sister laugh behind her and shot Alina an inquiring look.

  “What?” Alina said playfully. “It's going to have to be one of us. And frankly, I’d rather you than me.” She grinned and adjusted the silver fillet that held her dark hair off her brow.

  Amabel threw a roll of ribbon at her sister, but it missed. They both laughed, though for Amabel, at least, the merriment faded quickly.

  The two girls were in Amabel's chamber at the top of Lochlann Castle. They were dressing for dinner where, they had been informed that morning, they wou
ld be meeting another suitor. The fourth one in two weeks.

  Amabel hated it. They both did. But there was no escape. Their uncle Brien, Earl of Cawley, had said it would be so, and there was nothing they could do or say. Amabel looked out through the arched window over the castle courtyard. She could see the tile and thatch roofs of the town of Lochlann stretching beyond their castle's mighty walls. Up above the town, the sky was gray and she wished, not for the first time, she could take off and fly like the swifts and swallows, escaping this place forever. She sighed.