Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1)

Praise for

Highlander's Bride

"A beautiful love
story!"

—USA TODAY Bestselling
Author, Delores Fossen

"Deborah Gafford
creates a memorable picture of courage and love in this captivating Scottish
romance."

—Leslie Garcia, author of
Unattainable

"Ms. Gafford’s
amazing ability to weave a story… kept this reader turning the pages into the
wee hours of the night."

—Angela Rose,
Satin
Sheets Romance

"Ms. Gafford paints a
beautiful, realistic picture of 16th century Scotland."

—Sophie Greyson, author of
Heaven Scent

CROWNED HEART AWARD

—
InD'Tale Magazine

Books by Deborah Gafford

Heart of the Highlander series

Highlander's Bride

The Talisman

Highland Betrayal *

Romantic Comedy

You're in Good Hands with Al Tate

Nest Egg Cowboy*

*Coming soon

Highlander's Bride

Deborah Gafford

Highlander's Bride

Copyright
© 2011 by Deborah Gafford

Revised Edition © 2012

Paperback Edition © 2013

Kindle Edition

Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, products, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or
distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the
author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted
materials in violation of the author's rights. Thank you for respecting the
hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

For John.
Mo anam cara
. My hero, husband,
and best friend. Thank you for always being there for me.

And for Delores Fossen, writer extraordinaire, and
my dearest friend. Thanks for all the encouragement and good times. Our next
author's lunch is on me.

PROLOGUE

Coast of France 1502

"You,
madam
, have the honor of being
the first pawn to fall."

Phillipe Ja Bier calmly watched the life fade from
the old midwife's eyes. He wiped her blood from his rapier and slipped it back
into the unassuming walking cane, then stepped over her lifeless body and
walked out of the wooded copse to his waiting coach. Now that he knew where to
search for Katherine, no one would stand in his way.

After dusting the coach seat with his lace-edged
handkerchief, Ja Bier climbed in and rapped the ceiling sharply with the head
of his cane. He sat back in comfort and stared out the window, a slight smile
on his lips. As the woods faded in the distance his smile distorted into a
twisted smirk as he planned his next move. He would bring Katherine back to
France, then take his leisure playing out the game that had begun so long ago.
A game he meant to win.

CHAPTER ONE

Scotland 1503

"I'd rather be skewered on a spit and roasted
alive!" Glowering at his brother, Alexander MacGregor brandished his
broadsword in the air to emphasize his point. "And you can tell that to Da
when you return.
Without me."

"Aye, brother, I could. But I will not. Da
sent me to bring you home and 'tis that I will do."

Turning in his saddle, Alexander viewed his men
waiting nearby. From their grins, it seemed they found the conversation
amusing. He called to his head man-at-arms. "Malcolm, lead the men to the
burn to water their mounts."

The rugged older man nodded. "Aye. All right,
lads, ye heard him. Dinna just sit there till yer arses grow roots."

Alexander waited impatiently till the men were out
of earshot and then turned back to his younger brother, William. "Now,
what is this nonsense you speak of?"

William shrugged. "I told you. Da sent me to
fetch you with all speed. He means for you to marry the daughter of an old
friend within the sennight."

"Bloody hell!" Alexander yanked sharply
on his reins causing his coal black stallion to rear and paw the air with its
front legs. Would his trouble with women never end? Clamping his thighs to his
horse's sides, Alexander eased his pull on the reins calming the stallion to
its former stance even as thoughts of his recent humiliation at court burned in
his gut increasing his anger.

Lady Beatrice's beauty and pleasant demeanor had
set her apart from the fickle, scheming women who frequented court looking to
snare a husband and a lover with equal abandon. The more time he spent with
her, the more confident he had become that she was the woman for him. When
she'd fair swooned from the one chaste kiss they'd shared, he was convinced.

Later, when old Laird Buccleuch had asked him to
take a message to his nephew, he had almost refused. The man's nephew was a
womanizing drunkard and Alexander wanted naught to do with him. But he had
agreed to do it out of friendship for the old man. In hindsight, he now
realized Lord Buccleuch had sent him deliberately. Some day, when his anger and
shame ceased to eat at him so, he would find it in him to thank the old man.

Alexander had knocked on the young Buccleuch's
chamber door and entered when bid to do so. Upon hearing sounds of heated
passion and a strumpet's lewd suggestions enticing the young man with further
pleasures, he immediately turned to leave when he realized he knew the woman's
voice.

He froze, unable to move, then damned himself for
his suspicions.
Nay!
'Twas not possible! Beatrice had been fair overcome
from their one chaste kiss. 'Twas unthinkable that she knew the bawdy pleasures
the whore had called out to the randy fool.

When young Buccleuch  groaned loudly as he
obviously reached his release, the woman laughed and spoke again.

"That should keep ye till I return this
eve."

"Nay, now I'll have the other pleasures ye
promised me."

"Ye will have them and more, but I must go
now and dress for dinner. Alexander will be pining to share his trencher with
me."

The young man laughed. "Ye share a trencher
with him and your quim with me. 'Tis a fine jest ye play on the besotted
fool."

Alexander crossed the room in three strides and
jerked back the bed curtains.
God!
It
was
her!

She gasped and tried to cover her breasts with her
arms. The color drained from Buccleuch's face and he stammered, "I… I
thought 'twas a servant who entered."

Blood pounded in Alexander's head and his eyes
narrowed to mere slits. "You should keep your door barred while you bed
your whore." Then he slammed his fist into the sod's face. He looked down
at the senseless fool, then turned to face Beatrice. He stared at her, his
glare raking her body. She cowered when he lifted his hand from his side but
then sat up and stared back defiantly as he merely reached into his sporran.

Alexander forced the words from his lips as he
pulled out three pieces of silver. "I do not know the price of a court
whore, but this should pay for your services." He tossed the coins in her
lap and strode from the room.

For the next several days, he trained
relentlessly, stopping only to eat with his men  in the garrison hall. But when
the king ordered him to attend to a matter during one of his feasts, Alexander
swallowed his pride and took his place at the high table in the great hall.

Determined not to look for Beatrice among the
crowd, he spoke with members of the king's counsel. The candid discussion had
eased his frustration until he heard a woman's laugh ring out from further down
the table. Despite his resolve, he glanced at the woman whose laugh he
remembered all too well.

Beatrice sat surrounded by men and women of the
court. She whispered to them, then pointed at him and laughed again. When her
companions joined in her mirth, he forced himself to look away, hardening his
heart against the pain she'd caused him. When her laughter rang out again,
obviously mocking him to anyone who would listen, he vowed never to let another
woman affect him so.

'Twould be a cold day in hell before he gave his
heart again.

Alexander shook his head, bringing his thoughts
back to the present. Unwilling to speak of his humiliation, he scowled at his
brother. "I tell you I won't do it. I'm no spineless puppet to be twisted
about because Da holds the strings. We've discussed this a hundred times. I've
told him when I found the right lass I would marry of my own choice. And not
before."

William leaned forward and patted his horse's
neck. "'Tis well I know it, but still he bid me find you quickly and bring
you home."

"God's bones!" Alexander cursed. With
his yearly service to the king complete, he was free to seek his fortune as he
chose. He had intended to enjoy his freedom before returning home to During
Castle to face the clan's many demands as next in line to become laird.

Leaning forward in the saddle, he surveyed the
land in front of him. The play of afternoon sunlight rippled across a pale
amber stream tinted by miles of peat as it meandered through the green valley.
Surrounded by silent hills and the towering rock clad heights of Ben Cleuch,
the quiet glen should have filled him with a sense of peace.

Instead, tales flooded his mind of the fierce
battles once waged there, staining the land with blood. Down there, near the
rocky outcrop on the edge of the forest, the MacGregor clan had fought boldly
to claim the land and built a fortress in the glen duly named Ironwood. One day
all this would belong to him. He'd assume his duty as laird and would have to
wed. But, by God, he hadn't planned on doing it now!

He clenched his hands around the saddle pommel and
shifted his glance back to William. "What brought on this foolish idea? Is
aught amiss?"

"Da bid me speak naught of it. You will have
to meet with him to hear his mind on the matter."

"Aye, so 'twould seem." Alexander spun
his horse around and shouted back to his brother. "Have my men break camp
and follow me. I will speak with Da and settle this once and for all."
Slapping the ends of his reins against his mount, he urged it into a brisk
canter down the hillside.

Alexander rode the rest of the day and throughout
the night, stopping to rest only once for a few hours. As the distance shrank
between Ironwood's peaceful valley and During Castle, he planned his argument
against the unwanted marriage. But would Da heed his words without knowing all?

And what of Fiona? Although he'd never spoken
words of love or commitment to the lass, the one and only time he'd become
blinding drunk, he had awoken with her in his bed seeming to prove he felt
otherwise. And damn his hazy memory; he couldn't even remember bedding the
lass.

Still worse, he'd always thought of her more as a
little sister than a mere member of his clan. He'd always taken his lusty
encounters with other women well beyond the castle gates. But seeing the
blood-stained sheet she'd nervously wrapped around her nakedness proved he had
taken her innocence whether he could remember it or not.

Vicious storms and foul weather had made the roads
impassable and delayed his journey to meet the king's army for several weeks.
In all that time, Fiona had shown no signs she carried a child from that night
he scarce remembered. Fearing the king's displeasure for his late arrival, he
had left as soon as the roads were fit to travel and hurriedly joined the
king's troops at Scone. What if he was mistaken? Did a bastard child wait to
claim his name when he returned? If so, he was honor bound to marry Fiona, but
'twould seem he was already pledged to some sight unseen wench known only to
his sire.

Arriving home the next morn, Alexander spurred his
horse through the gates, pulled to a sharp halt in front of the keep and
vaulted from the saddle. He tossed the reins to one of the castle grooms.
"Cool him down well, lad. I rode long and hard." 

With that, he strode up the steps of the keep, his
leather boots beating an angry tempo on the stone stairs. The iron hinges on
the massive oak doors screeched an eerie welcome as he stepped into the dim
corridor leading to the great hall. He hesitated just long enough for his eyes
to adjust to the light, then  continued.

His weariness faded at the possibility of a
nameless child awaiting him to do as duty bid, yet also uphold the MacGregor honor
by fulfilling the betrothal his sire had arranged in his absence. Resentment
rose once again as he silently questioned the motive for his summons.

He was no coward; he would seek Fiona as soon as
possible and learn the truth. Until then, he'd listen to what his father had to
say and protect Fiona's honor as best he could without telling all. Damn his
memory for not recalling more of the night. Even drunk, he never would have
thought he would bed Fiona. True, she was a beauty, but he had always thought
of her as a younger sister, growing up in the castle together as they had. But
knowing her as he did, he knew she wouldn't lie to him. Moreover, the proof had
been there for him to see.

Movement from across the great hall drew
Alexander's attention. His sire, Laird Ian MacGregor, sat in an ornately carved
high-backed chair by the hearth with one of his hunting dogs stretched out at
his feet.

Taking a deep breath, Alexander marched quickly
across the large room. The ends of his plaid slapped against his legs as he
came to a halt in front of his father. The muscles of his face clenched tightly
as he bowed in silent greeting.

Ian looked at Alexander, then back down at his
dog, absently rubbing its head. "He doesna seem pleased,
Cu
. Och,
well, it canna be helped."

Ian nodded and greeted him. "Ah, son, I see
William found you and relayed my request."

"Request? 'Twas a bloody command and absurd
at that." Alexander glanced around the room. Fiona wasn't there, nor was
any young child with familiar bearing being held in tow.  "We have spoken
of this matter many times and I've no wish to bandy words again. I will not wed
some strange lass on a whim to please one of your old friends. When I wed,
'twill be of my own choice and time. As the next laird, I claim that right."

Ian surged to his feet. His eyes narrowed and his
mouth shrank to a thin line among the fiery red bristles of his beard. "
I
am laird here! 'Tis
my
choice whom and when you wed. And as my heir, you
will do what I say. In five days time, you will wed Lady Katherine, daughter of
Laird and Lady Gordon, or I vow I will strike yer name from our clan and cast
you out as the disobedient and ungrateful son you show me now!"

"Surely you jest! You cannot be
serious."

"I ne'er make idle threats. Think well on this."

"God's blood, even if I agreed to such a
foolish idea 'tis no reason to do it so soon. Why such need for haste? What is
wrong with the lass that I am rushed to take her, sight unseen?"

"'Tis naught wrong with the lass. You will
wed her now because I have deemed it so. Settle this in your mind, for I have
given my word to Laird Gordon. I willna discuss this further."

Anger knotted in Alexander's chest at the
ultimatum and ricocheted through him in hot fiery sparks. For one tense moment,
he faced his father in grim silence. It had always been so. His independent
spirit had often rebelled against the rules of his father simply because they
were not his choice or in his power to do otherwise. With defiance gnawing in
his belly, he spun on his heel, strode out of the great hall and up the stairs
to his chamber.

Inside his room, his scowling glance raked the
large bed with his family crest carved in the headboard. Hanging on the rough
stone wall above it were a targe and broadsword. He stared at them, his hands
clenched, itching for action. "God's blood, but I can't believe
this!"

Yanking the MacGregor badge from his shirt, he
stared down at the symbol of his heritage, gripping it tightly in his palm
until his knuckles turned white. Then he flung it on the bed followed by his
kilt. Donning an old pair of breeks, Alexander grabbed the broadsword and
strode out of his chamber without looking back.

**

Katherine Gordon walked into the solar in search of
the list of herbs she'd left there earlier. The anxious sound of her mother's
voice immediately drew her attention.

"
Mon Dieu
, Angus! So soon? Must… must
we do it now?"

The tremor in her mother's voice stopped Katherine
in mid step. Upon seeing haggard expressions on both of her parents' faces, she
hurried over to them. "Mother, Da, what is wrong?"

Her mother darted a tear-filled glance at her,
then turned her gaze back to her husband. "Could it not wait for a
time?"