A Highlander To Set Her Free (Scottish Highlander Romance) Read online

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 by Barbara Bard

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Be A Part of Barbara Bard’s Family

  Table of Contents

  A Highlander to Set Her Free

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  The Extended Epilogue

  Her Highland Defender – A Preview

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Be A Part of Barbara Bard’s Family

  Also by Barbara Bard

  A Highlander to Set Her Free

  Prologue

  The tunnel was dark, yet she navigated it with ease, knowing the route like the back of her little hand. Thunder shook the keep, spurring her on faster. It wasn’t that she was a cowardly child by any means, but the combination of the raging storm outside and the nightmare that had ripped her from sleep was a test of even her stalwart courage.

  As a proud member of the McCayzer clan and the daughter of their Laird, Miriel knew she had to grow to be strong. At eight years of age, the importance of her duty to the clan had already been instilled in her.

  One day, she would be a leader to her people. She would need to marry a great man who would becοme their Laird, and she would rule at his right hand.

  Her da had always told her, though, that experiencing fear wasn’t what made someone a coward. Everyone was afraid sometimes. Even him.

  He said the most terrifying day of his life was the day she was born. Her birth had not been easy, and her maw had almost died from the effort to bring her into the world. Her da had been out of his mind with worry for her and her maw, and overwhelmed with gratitude when they’d both made it through alive.

  No, it wasn’t fear itself that made people cowards. They became cowards when they let that fear control them. Miriel’s fear didn’t control her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t seek comfort from her maw and da on stormy, nightmare-riddled nights.

  Bare feet padding along the cold stone floor of the passage, Miriel came upon the secret door leading into her parents’ bedchamber. The hidden passages of the keep spread throughout the structure like a spider’s web, but Miriel had memorized every twist and turn, and used them frequently to sneak around without anyone noticing her.

  No one knew those tunnels quite so well as she did.

  Resting her hand on the metal door handle, Miriel moved to open it, but a strange sound on the other side of the door made her pause. It had sounded like the creaking of a floorboard, as though someone were moving about inside the room. The hour was late, however, and it would be unusual for her parents to be up and about.

  Has the storm woken ma and da as well?

  Something didn’t feel quite right, however. A strange sense of dread unfurled in Miriel’s gut, and she opened the door just a crack so she could peek into the room, careful to make no noise. The room was dark save for the flickering of the low fire in the hearth.

  Shadows danced along the floor and walls, obscuring her vision. She had to take a moment to let her eye adjust to the way the soft light played in the dark.

  When she could make out the details of the room, she slid her gaze toward her parents’ bed and froze. Alarm made her gasp, but she slapped her hand over her mouth to keep the noise from escaping her lips.

  A tall, hooded figure stood over her parents’ bed. Her maw and da were fast asleep, none the wiser to the intruder towering over them. Menace seemed to roll from the figure’s broad shoulders. His stance was tense and predatory.

  Dangerous.

  Deadly.

  Miriel watched as the intruder turned his gaze from her da to her maw, then back again. She caught a glimpse of what lay beneath the hood, but a dark covering obscured the person’s face and Miriel could make out no details of his identity.

  The man shifted and something flashed in his hand, catching her eye.

  The cloaked trespasser held a large knife, and as Miriel watched in horrified shock, he raised it above her da. She opened her mouth to try and scream, to warn her parents, but terror paralyzed her, stealing her voice.

  Move, ye coward! Stop him! Dae something!

  Yet, she was helpless. Her body simply wouldn’t budge, no matter how violently her mind demanded it to. She could do nothing but watch as the figure brought the knife down into her da’s sleeping form with a sickening thud.

  Blood spurted as her da woke with a gurgled cry, but the villain stabbed him again and again before he could gather his wits enough to fight back. He slaughtered her da with such brutality, Miriel could see the pure hatred behind his actions. This wasn’t simply the work of a rival hoping to undercut the McCayzer clan’s power by killing its Laird.

  Whoever this was, he despised her da with a frightening passion. He wanted him to suffer in death − to destroy him body and soul.

  The violence of the murder startled her maw awake. Lady McCayzer’s eyes went wide as she realized what was happening to her husband. She opened her mouth to scream, but the cloaked man pointed his bloody knife at her face. Miriel couldn’t hear what the killer was saying to her maw, but whatever it was, it alarmed the lady into silence.

  The man turned his blade back to Miriel’s da, slicing it through him several more times, though it was obvious he was already dead. Tears streamed down her face and her heart raced with despair and terror.

  How could this be happening? Here? In her home? How could her da be dead so easily?

  Her giant of a father, with his wild mop of hair and shaggy beard that made him look like a savage. Who wielded a great broadsword as tall as Miriel herself, and was feared by clans all across the Highlands. How could that beast of a man be slaughtered like this?

  Like an animal?

  Nausea
made Miriel’s stomach roil, but she still didn’t move. She was too afraid the killer would hear her and discover her hiding place. The thought of him turning that bloodied blade on her had her shivering like a beaten pup.

  Her maw was sobbing, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso as the killer finished his work. He pulled his knife from her da’s body, then slowly stalked around the bed to her maw’s side. Miriel’s maw shrank away from him, but he reached out and grabbed her arm.

  Panic overwhelmed Miriel, making her hand, which still held the door handle, jerk. The metal clattered softly against the wood, and she stilled, terrified she’d made her presence known by accident. The hooded man tensed and glanced around the room.

  Miriel held her breath. After a heartbeat of time that seemed to stretch for a lifetime, the man turned his attention back to her maw.

  Please, not her tae. Dinnae take me maw as well!

  Shaking her maw sharply, the killer appeared to speak to her again, but Miriel still could not hear his words. Her maw yanked on her arm to try and escape his hold, but he jerked his closer and held the knife at her throat.

  Her maw went deathly still and pale, her eyes wide with fear as she stared up into the covered face above her. Miriel trembled and held her breath, praying the man wouldn’t slaughter her maw along with her da.

  At length, the killer lowered the weapon and shoved her maw back down onto the bed and away from him. He sheathed his blade without bothering to clean it and cast one last, long look at her maw before turning for the doors that led out to a great stone balcony overlooking the courtyard.

  He slipped through the doors without a backward glance, disappearing into the stormy night. The room was quiet for several moments. Her maw sat up in the bed as though in a daze, her expression blank.

  Slowly, her maw reached across the bed and touched her da’s arm. Her lip trembled as tears slid silently down her cheeks.

  “Drostan? Love? Can ye…can ye hear me?”

  He’s dead, maw. It’s naw use…

  He’s dead. The thought repeated over and over in Miriel’s head. Her da was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

  Her maw was sobbing now over her husband’s body, and Miriel stayed hidden. She knew a good daughter would make her presence known and offer comfort to her grieving mother, but she couldn’t go out there.

  “Drostan!” he maw screamed, slashing at the bedcovers with her nails. As her sorrow grew, it pushed her to near madness. “Drostan! Drostan!” She yanked at her hair and thrashed about like a crazed animal.

  Then, she collapsed onto her husband’s corpse. Miriel whimpered as her maw’s nightgown was stained red with her da’s blood. It was a gruesome sight, and one she feared would be burned into her memory for the rest of her days.

  Yer da is dead, and yer maw is gaeing mad afore yer eyes…

  She heard the pounding of feet approaching the bedchamber, and Miriel shrunk back into the darkness of the passage, though she kept her eye locked on the crack in the door. The next moment, the chamber door burst open and a handful of clansmen entered with weapons drawn.

  They all came to a sudden halt when they took in the horrendous scene in the room. Their mistress, shrieking atop the body of their slain Laird. His blood soaking the bedding beneath him and his wife above him.

  When the first man overcame his initial shock, he let out a shout of alarm and rushed toward the bed to try and pull her maw away from her da. Miriel’s maw fought his hold, and two more men came forward to assist him.

  “Me Lady, please relent,” one of the men, who was named Alan, pleaded with her maw as he took hold of her arms. “Whit has happened ‘ere? Whit has happened tae our Laird?”

  Her maw was beyond capable of responding. She thrashed to escape the men as they dragged her away, shrieking and cursing them with a ferocity that could find its place on a battlefield.

  Miriel watched as her maw was dragged away, her screams echoing throughout the keep. The two men who were left moved toward her da’s body still laying on the bed.

  She recognized them both. They were young members of the clan; one named Brannon, and the other named Dolan.

  Brannon scrubbed his hand over his mouth as he stared at his Laird in despair, his face pale, and Dolan squeezed his eyes shut and turned away.

  “Savior above,” he bit out. “Whit kind of monster would dae such a thing?”

  “How could they?” Brannon murmured with a shake of his head. “How could anyone outside the clan get this far in tae the keep?”

  “Are ye sure it was someone outside the clan?” Dolan asked softly. The two exchanged a look that Miriel didn’t understand. She struggled to understand anything about their conversation.

  What did they mean by questioning if the killer was from outside the clan? Did they truly think someone within the clan could’ve done this?

  Isnae possible. Naw one would betray their Laird like this.

  Yet, even as the thought crawled through her mind, doubt followed in its wake. She had always believed her family’s keep the safest place in the world. No one could get in who wasn’t supposed to be there.

  So, how had her da’s murderer breached her home’s walls?

  Brannon and Dolan were moving closer to her da. One man stood at his head, and the other at his feet. Reaching out, they took hold of his ankles and shoulders, and with echoing grunts, lifted him from the bed.

  For the first time since Miriel had reached her parents’ bedchamber, she was given a full view of her da. His torso was ripped to shreds, and blood still dripped from his clothing and fingertips. As the two men jostled him to get a better hold, his head lolled so that his face turned toward her.

  His eyes were open.

  They stared at her, frozen forever in terror and pain.

  They bore into her as if in accusation.

  Why did ye dae nothing? they yelled. Why did ye nae stop them?

  She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t stop the terror that ripped through her at the sight of his lifeless eyes.

  Why, Miriel? Why, why, why?

  Clutching her head, she willed the voice to leave her alone and begged the eyes to look away.

  As her da’s bloody corpse stared at her in anger, Miriel opened her mouth and a scream tore from her throat.

  Chapter 1

  Miriel

  Miriel jerked away with a cry, the dream as vivid as if she had just relived that terrible night. Every detail remained clear in her mind, even twelve years later. It was her most constant nightmare.

  Sweat beaded her brow, but she shivered beneath her heavy bedding. Sitting up, she fought to catch her breath and calm her racing heart.

  Only a dream. Isnae real. Yer da has been dead fer years.

  Yet, she knew sleep would be impossible now. It always was once that nightmare disturbed her mind. With a frustrated sigh, she threw the covers away from her and slid out of her bed onto the thick wool rug covering the cold stone floor of her room.

  Padding to the bench beneath her large window, she sat and looked out in the night. From her place in the keep, she could see beyond the tall wall surrounding the whole castle. The Scottish countryside stretched out before her, bathed in moonlight.

  The rolling green hills, the lush forest stretching around her clan’s land, and the craggy mountains off in the distance called to her. Her da had always said the wildness of the Highlands was reflected in its people, who were born warriors that no one could contain. Not even the English.

  Her heart ached at the thought of her da. Too often when she remembered him, the image of his lifeless eyes staring at her shadowed any pleasant thoughts she might have. To this day, she remembered how they’d seemed to accuse her.

  She’d done nothing to stop her da’s murder, and the guilt haunted her.

  Shaking her head, Miriel tried to think of something else. Something more pleasant. Something less likely to stir bad dreams within her head.

  Resting her feet in front of her on the bench, she hugged
her knees to her chest and stared out at the moon. Nothing more pleasant came to mind. There was very little about her life that she could call pleasant.

  As the night passed by, she sank deeper and deeper into the gloom of her heavy thoughts. Her world had been shattered the day her da died, and she’d never been able to put the pieces back together. Her home was now her prison, her family her jailors.

  Resting her cheek upon her knee, she kept her eyes locked on the silver moon as her tears began to fall. Just as she had so many nights throughout the years, she let herself weep under the cover and security of darkness. No one would see her weakness now.

  No one would try to use it against her.

  * * *

  When the sunfinally came up, Miriel readied for the day. Her maid came to help her dress, and when she was presentable, she straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin. Donning her armor of stoicism, she made her way out into the corridor.

  Servants hurried past her as they woke the rest of the house and prepared for the work needed to be done that day. Miriel nodded her head and offered polite smiles as they passed, but she didn’t stop to speak with anyone. Her survival in this place depended on her ability to remain aloof from the goings-on around her.