The Highlander’s Awakening Lairds of Dunkeld Series)
The Highlander’s Awakening
Lairds of Dunkeld Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)
Emilia Ferguson
MOUNTAINSKY HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.
Contents
Copyright
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A Personal Note From Emilia Ferguson
Dedication
About The Author
The Highlander’s Awakening
CHARACTERS LIST
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PROLOGUE
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CHAPTER ONE
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CHAPTER TWO
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CHAPTER THREE
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CHAPTER FOUR
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CHAPTER FIVE
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CHAPTER SIX
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CHAPTER SEVEN
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CHAPTER EIGHT
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CHAPTER NINE
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CHAPTER TEN
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
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CHAPTER TWELVE
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
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CHAPTER TWENTY
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
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EPILOGUE
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Acknowledgement
If You Have Enjoyed This Book…
Publisher’s Notes
Copyright © 2017 & 2018 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
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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
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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 stories.
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:
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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.
THE HIGHLANDER’S AWAKENING
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 #6
Estate Name: Dunkeld castle
Laird: Broderick MacConnaway, thane of Lochlann
Mother: Amabel Lochlann
Aunt: Alina Lochlann
Uncle: Duncan MacConnaway
Son: Brodgar MacConnaway
Daughter: Joanna MacConnaway
Daughter: Amice MacConnaway
Aunt: Chrissie MacNeil
Uncle: Blaine MacNeil
Cousin: Alf MacNeil
Cousin: ConnMacNeil
Cousin: Leona MacConnaway
Head of household guard: Blaine MacNeil
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Estate name: Elmsmoor Castle
Family name: Fraser
Laird: Ewan Fraser, Baron of Elmsmoor
Mother: Lynette Fraser
Daughter: Henriette (Ettie) Fraser
Uncle: Heath Fraser, Knight of the Order of Saint Lazarus
* * *
Estate Name: Lochlann
Family name: Blackheath
Laird: Dougal Blackheath, his grace
the duke of Buccleigh
Mother: Joanna MacConnnaway
Daughter: Amabel Blackheath
* * *
Estate Name: Bronley Castle
Family name: McDonnell
Father: Adair McDonnell, thane of Bronley
Daughter: Ambeal McDonnell
* * *
PROLOGUE
PROLOGUE
“I can't bear saying goodbye.”
Ettie could barely get the words out around the lump in her throat. She was nineteen and for the first time in her life, she was going to be alone in a strange place. She ran a hand through her pale hair and tried to focus on something else.
“I know, dear,” her mother, Lady Lynette, said kindly. She stroked her daughter's cheek and then drew her into a fierce, rose-scented embrace. “But it may not be for long. Who knows?”
“I don't want to think about it.”
Lynette smiled, her green eyes creasing at the corners. “I know, dear. I don't want to, either.” Her voice cracked. “But you will be safe with Uncle Heath. And we will be safer away from this place.”
This place was their home – Elsmoor Castle. Right now, it was not a safe place for a man accused of treachery. Ettie knew her father was a good man. He had strong convictions, that was all. In addition, he had chosen sides unwisely in a recent feud. She understood the need for her parents to sail to France. She even understood why she could not go with them. Nevertheless, it didn't make it hurt any less.
“I know you're safer away,” Ettie said, forcing words round the growing lump in her throat. “It doesn't make it any easier.” Her mother drew her into her arms again.
“Well, it shall have to, my sweetheart.” She kissed her hair. “Uncle Heath is a difficult character, but I know you will manage well with him. No one could fail to love you, sweetling.”
Ettie felt a glow in her heart as her mother said that. “Thank you. Nor you either, Mother.”
Her mother, Ettie thought, was the most beautiful and sweetest woman in the whole world. The fact that people said they looked alike made her proud. Except, where her mother's face was long and solemn, she had a softer one, with a full mouth and slate-colored eyes instead of green. Now, those blue-gray eyes blinked furiously, trying to still her tears as her mother drew her into her arms one more time. The slow footsteps in the hallway outside hailed her father's arrival. She drew back as he appeared in the doorway behind Lady Lynette.
“My lady?” he asked. A tall, imposing figure with grave eyes and a serious face, Ettie felt her heart wrench with love for him, too. Must she leave both of them? It was too hard!
“Yes. I'm coming,” her mother said. She was crying too, now, blinking back tears that flowed from her big green eyes. “Wait a moment, Ewan.”
Lord Ewan Fraser, the baron of Elsmoor, stood in the doorway. Ettie saw his grim expression soften to a look of immense tenderness as he watched her and her mother.
“Goodbye, Father,” she said softly.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” he said, equally softly. He let his hand rest on her shoulder a moment, and then withdrew, turning away. Ettie was wise enough to understand it was not coldness, but a need to hide his tears.
“Well, then,” Lynette said, blinking rapidly. “We will go. Your uncle Heath has just arrived – I hear the servants opening the door downstairs. We will depart now. Fare well, daughter.”
“Fare well, Mama.”
“Farewell.” Her father's voice was gruff as they both turned in the doorway, heading down the stairs.
“Farewell.” Ettie whispered it as she heard their feet echo on the stairwell, raced to the window to watch them leave. She, too, could hear the scuffle and the scrape of the great doors on the flagstones as her uncle was admitted. She didn't want to know about it. All she had the strength for was to stay here at the long window and watch her parents roll away in the coach, heading toward the sea, and refuge.
And I will stay here. I wonder what the future holds?
Ettie knew her parents expected her to find a husband here. That was the main reason they had not taken her with them – they thought it unfair to reduce her prospects of finding a lord and home in Scotland. But why did they leave me with Uncle Heath?
Younger than her father by a few years, reclusive and almost-silent, Uncle Heath was hardly the place to start her search for a bridegroom. He probably doesn't know many people.
A returned Crusader, Uncle Heath was a bitter, silent man with a disciplined character. She could not imagine him smiling, never mind hosting balls. If Mama and Papa wanted me to meet eligible youths, they would have better left me here, or sent me to Edinburgh to stay with Mother's aunt. Even though her mother's aunt Mabel was considerably older than her uncle, she was more likely to have good connections than he.
At that moment, she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She looked up as a man appeared.
Tall, with a long, gaunt face and big brown eyes, the man was clearly handsome, though a little younger than her father. Ettie swallowed hard. Handsome he was, but he radiated at once a sort of sadness and a strict discipline. From his tightly-strapped boots to his close-cropped hair, this was a military man with no room for frivolity.
“Henriette?” he asked. He cleared his throat. His voice had a stiffness to it, as if rarely used. He looked at her wonderingly.
“Uncle?” She asked softly. “You are my Uncle Heath?”
“Yes, my niece.” He nodded gravely. “I'm here to take you to Grenleigh Castle, my home. If you'll follow me?”
“Yes, Uncle,” she said. Swallowing her tears, she took the hand that he offered her. His hand was warm and strong and holding it made her feel much more assured. She followed him out into the hallway.
Into an uncertain future in which she must find a husband, settle down and plan the rest of her life.
CHAPTER ONE
DEPARTURES AND JOURNEYS
DEPARTURES AND JOURNEYS
Brodgar looked up from the table. “Father?”
“Mm?” his father, Lord Broderick, asked lightly from his place opposite. The sun shone through the windows of the solar at Dunkeld Castle, making Brodgar blink.
“Do you have the salt cellar on your side?” he asked, a frown on his handsome, square-jawed face.
“Oh...yes.” Broderick, the thane, passed it across the table with an absent smile. “Sorry, son. I was miles away.” He ran a hand down his long, lean face wearily.
“Thanks,” Brodgar said, reaching for the salt and taking a pinch from the silver dish in strong fingers, then passing it back. “You still plan to go hunting later?”
Broderick rolled his shoulders. “That depends. My dear?” he added, turning sideways.
“Yes?” Lady Amabel, Brodgar's mother, raised a pale eyebrow carefully. A tall woman with pale auburn hair and a lovely oval face, Amabel blinked at him inquiringly. “Sorry, dear. I was distracted. What did you say?”
“You think it will rain later?” Brodgar inquired. “I wonder if it would be safer to give those forest paths a miss.”
They were all seated at the table for an extended luncheon. Christmastide had passed, and the new year had brought a soft, melancholic air along with rainy weather. It was the sort of day when no one wanted to move out of the warmth of the solar and away from friendly company.
“I think you could make it before the rain,” Amabel said, frowning out of the long, arched windows.
“Well, then,” Broderick said comfortably. “That’s decided. Alf?” He turned to a tall, sandy-haired youth who sat beside him.
“Yes, Uncle?”
“You coming on the ride?”
“I'd like to,” Alf agreed, swallowing a mouthful of oat bannock. Brodgar nodded at Alf, who grinned back. Only distantly related by blood, Alf was considered a cousin and was one of Brodgar's closest friends. His best friend besides Conn, who was now residing in France with Leona, Brodgar's true cousin.
“I'd keep away from the hilly ground, myself,”
Uncle Duncan, Leona's father, commented. He set aside his knife, which he'd been inspecting absently, and grinned at his brother, Broderick. “You don't want to go slipping down the path again.”
Broderick chuckled. “I'm never permitted to forget things.” He pulled a face.