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

  Making her way to the dining room in search of her breakfast, she paused at the door when she saw it was already occupied.

  Her Uncle Crodac, currently Laird of the McCayzer clan, turned his hated smirk on to her when he noticed her.

  “Good morning, niece,” he said with a sneer. “My, dinnae ye look bonnie today.”

  His eyes traveled the length of her body, and she shivered in disgust. Too late, she realized, he was alone in the room. Her aunt Deoiridh and cousin Artair were nowhere to be found.

  Her uncle was never so bold as to ogle her when they were around. Without them, she wasn’t safe from his lecherous gaze.

  For a hesitant moment, she considered turning and escaping the room, but then thought better of it. If he believed she was frightened of him, it would only spur on his behavior. Her uncle enjoyed women, but she had heard from the maids that he enjoyed taking a woman by force more than bedding a willing one.

  It was only one of many reasons she despised him.

  “Come, niece. Sit wi’ me. I hae seen tae little of ye as of late.”

  Because I avoid ye like a festering corpse.

  Miriel made every effort to avoid her uncle whenever she could. He made no secret of his unnatural desire for her, and his interest had only grown over the years as she’d matured into her womanhood. As of late, however, his attempts at catching her alone had grown more and more insistent, and she’d found herself in situations similar to this several times before.

  Head high, she moved around the table to a seat far from him and settled down. The table was laden with the morning fare; porridge, crusty bread with fresh butter, bacon, and a tanker of heather ale. Though she knew the McCayzer cook to be an expert at her craft, Miriel no longer had an appetite.

  Taking little onto her platter, she pretended to eat, picking at the food like a weary sparrow.

  “Did ye sleep well, me dear?” her uncle asked.

  “Aye,” she lied, keeping her eyes locked on her meal.

  He reached across the table as though to touch her, and she flinched away. She glanced up in time to see the anger flash through his eyes. He may not care if she were willing or not, but he always seemed furious when she rejected him outright.

  “Where is me aunt?” she asked pointedly.

  He scowled. “She is unwell and remains abed.”

  Likely from drowning in her cups aw night.

  Not that Miriel could blame her. Were she was forced to endure her uncle as her husband, she’d likely be legless most days as well.

  “Me cousin, then.” Perhaps Artair would join them shortly and relieve her. “Where aboots is he at this early hour?”

  Her uncle’s eyes narrowed, and it was clear he disliked her reminding him of his family.

  “I hae nae see the lad as of yet,” he answered curtly. “I imagine he has yet tae drag himself from his latest conquest’s bed.”

  Miriel wanted to yank at her hair in frustration. It seemed whenever she needed her cousin most, he was off stealing the virtue of some poor young lass who fell victim to his wicked grin and charm.

  Unlike his father, her cousin wasn’t a bad man. It was quite amazing how good he truly was, given the circumstances of his birth. Yet he was too easily distracted by a pretty face. Miriel prayed for the day he would meet a woman who could settle him down.

  It would do them all good for him to shed his wild, bachelor ways.

  “Ye should nae speak so of Artair,” she snapped, coming to her cousin’s defense.

  “Ach, hae I offend yer delicate female sensitives?” Her uncle chuckled in the cruel way she’d grown used to. He so enjoyed cutting down those around him so that he could feel more superior.

  Anger bloomed within her, but she held her tongue and returned her attention to her meal. It would do her no good to provoke him outright. Better to ignore him.

  Silence stretched between them, and with each moment that passed, it grew thicker and thicker with tension. She could sense his growing agitation at her dismissal, and knew he would force her attention back to him before long.

  “It is me hope that Artair quiets his wild ways soon enough,” he said at length. “A bride would calm him. Dinnae ye think?”

  With a frown, Miriel turned her eyes back to Crodac.

  “I dinnae ken whit ye mean, Uncle. Dae ye hae a lass in mind?”

  His grin was wide and victorious as he reclaimed her full attention. She hated that she’d let him win this time, but she cared deeply for her cousin and couldn’t help but be interested in hearing any plans being made for his future.

  “Aye, I dae,” Crodac nodded. “Though I dae admit that she is nae yet secured fer Artair.”

  “I dinnae understand? Whit dae ye mean, nae yet secured?”

  Casually spooning up his porridge, her uncle took a bite and chewed for several agonizing moments before designing to provide her an answer.

  “A Northern Laird is traveling along the border, gaeing fae clan tae clan in search of a respectable suitor fer his sister,” Crodac explained. There was a greedy glint in his eye that Miriel found concerning. “He is said to be verra powerful and wealthy.”

  “A Northern Laird? ‘ere? Why is he so determined tae marry her tae a border clan?”

  “It appears he wishes tae form an alliance so as tae grow his strength against the English. Connection tae a border clan wid prove strategic in his efforts.”

  A powerful Northern Laird wi’ enough might tae face the English. He could prove…useful.

  It was Miriel’s dream to escape her uncle’s hold. An unmarried orphan such as herself with no connections outside her own clan had little hope of running away and surviving, however. As it had become apparent her uncle had no interest in marrying her off anytime soon, she’d realized years back that she was likely stuck in her personal hell.

  Yet, now, a spark of hope lit up within her heart. If this Northern Laird proved a good, trustworthy man, perhaps she could plead her case to him and gain his help? If he were to steal her away from this place, her uncle’s small forces would not stand a chance against him.

  She could be free.

  Free of her uncle.

  Free of this keep with its blood-soaked memories.

  Free of her guilt at last.

  Her mind began to whirl as she plotted her possible escape.

  “When is the Laird expected tae arrive?” she asked as innocently as she could manage.

  “Within the week,” her uncle answered easily. “Wi’ luck, he will dub Artair a respectable suitor fer his sister during their stay. I pray me boy finds his happiness wi’ the lass.”

  Ye pray that ye’ll be able tae acquire her brother’s wealth and power.

  She knew her uncle too well to believe for a moment Artair’s wellbeing was his priority in this exchange. Still, the opportunity the Laird’s visit presented to her was too fortuitous to pass on. Though Artair’s happiness mattered to her, in this moment, it was not her first concern either.

  “Ye’ll, of course, be permitted tae introduce yerself tae the Laird and his sister,” her uncle said, sounding as though he were granting her a grand favor.

  His eyes darkened the next moment, however, as he continued, “Though I warn ye, should I suspect any behavior outside the bounds of propriety, I swear tae ye, there will be consequences tae pay.”

  She glared at him, affronted by his insinuations. Despite what he may not so secretly wish, Miriel was a proper young lady who took her noble birth seriously and protected her reputation fiercely. To even suggest she would compromise herself with the visiting Laird or any of his men was a gross slander of her character.

  “Fear nae, Uncle. I will maintain the utmost diligence in preserving me chastity. From any whae wid try tae dirty it.”

  He stared at her for long moments, and she could not read the thoughts playing out behind his eyes. At length, however, a sickening grin curled his lips and his gaze heated with an almost manic determination.

  “That is
such a relief, me dear,” he drawled, placing his elbows on the table and leaning toward her. “I wid so hate fer ye tae be spoiled afore yer wedding night.”

  The way he spoke made her stomach roil. He didn’t bother to mask the lust in his voice as his eyes dropped to her bosom. She felt suddenly naked and exposed despite the modest neckline of her gown.

  Shoving to her feet, she declared, “Me appetite has left me. I bid ye good day, Uncle.”

  She didn’t bother to wait for a response, turning sharply to flee the room.

  “A good day tae ye as well, niece,” he called after her. “I shall see ye verra soon, I am sure.”

  Miriel barely kept the contents of her stomach from escaping as she hurried out into the hall.

  Chapter 2

  Edan

  The road stretched out before him, seemingly endless and packed with perpetual disappointment. What he wouldn’t give to be able to return home. To end this exhausting charade and leave all the fools he had encountered so far well behind him.

  Another failed match. Another waste of me time.

  Edan, Laird of the Tosh clan, glanced back at the caravan trailing behind him like a long serpent sliding through the grass. Men on horseback guarded wagons of supplies and servants who had come all the way from the Highlands to follow him to the Scottish and English border.

  Though he was weary from travel and growing more hopeless his plans would come to fruition, his men didn’t appear to share his frustrations. They chatted happily among themselves, enjoying this journey as an entertaining adventure rather than a mission to garner strength and secure their future.

  Determined to solidify his clan’s defenses and shore up their resources should the English stir more trouble than they were worth, Edan had set out on this tour to find a suitable husband for his younger sister, Cairstine, in order to form a strong alliance. He wished to make a binding connection with a border clan, but so far, he had been left wanting in regards to acceptable suitors.

  His sister’s marriage would be of political benefit to their clan, but he wasn’t about to marry her to a complete fool who would embarrass their family name. The young Laird of Dubh Geal keep, from which Edan’s party was currently traveling, was just one in a long line of incapable cuddies he would not trust to provide for or defend his sister from harm.

  The lad had barely been sixteen years of age, and so green behind the ears in regards to leadership, his maw was the true power of their clan. While Edan could respect a woman of strength and bold character, he wasn’t about to put his sister into the lady’s path and risk the conflict and manipulation he was sure would follow the wedding.

  He had seen quickly enough that the lady of the keep intended to maintain her place of power. She was not willing to move aside for a younger replacement, no matter her son’s desires for a bride or her clan’s need for an heir. Cairstine would only have been miserable in that place, and so Edan had declined their offer of marriage and moved his entourage along.

  With a deep sigh, he turned back to face the road ahead. They would next stop at Cadwell keep, the stronghold of the McCayzer clan. He had some hesitant hope that this stop would prove worth the effort.

  He had heard that the McCayzers had once been a well-respected force to be reckoned with under their former Laird. Unfortunately, he had been brutally murdered in his own bed, and the clan had suffered as a result.

  Their current Laird was supposedly greedy and reckless in his rule. It was rumored his cruelty and predilections had driven his first wife to take her own life by throwing herself from one of the walls of Cadwell. Upon first hearing such talk, Edan had considered bypassing the McCayzers altogether to spare themselves further disenchantment.

  Thankfully, it was the man’s son that Edan sought for his sister, not the Laird himself. The lad was supposed to be a decent sort, quite the opposite of his father. Intelligent, brave, and kind, Artair of the McCayzers sounded as though he was an ideal candidate for his sister’s hand.

  The sound of an approaching horse stole Edan’s attention from the road and his musing. His right-hand man, Bhaic, rode up to his side with a grin.

  “Me Laird, the caravan is moving along smoothly. We should make decent time on our way tae Cadwell.”

  Edan nodded, pleased by the news. “Verra good, Bhaic. Keep the men alert and watchful of the wagons. We may still run in tae bandits this close tae the border.”

  “Yes, me Laird. The men ken to be diligent.”

  “Excellent.”

  They fell into a companionable silence for several moments as they continued on their way, swaying comfortably in their saddles. Bhaic had been with Edan since he’d first become Laird, and there were few men he trusted more. He allowed Bhaic to speak his mind and had come to know the signs when the man had something on his mind he wished to say.

  He was tensed, his hands clenched tightly around his reins. It was clear to Edan his friend wished to say something very badly indeed.

  At length, Bhaic finally turned back to Edan and asked in a careful tone, “Me Laird, I mean ye naw disrespect by me asking ye this, but the lads and I hae been wondering why it is ye seek a match fer ye sister and nae yerself? Wid ye nae hae mair control of yer alliance if it were ye tae wed and nae the lass?”

  It was a fair question, and one Edan had anticipated would be asked of him sooner than this moment. Still, the need to explain himself seemed a tiring feat, and not a task that he relished.

  “It is nae me who wishes to wed, Bhaic. Ever. Tae give up me freedom and be tied tae one lass fer the remainder of me life soonds like a prison sentence.” He glanced toward his right-hand with a wry grin. “Naw, it must be Cairstine. Besides, she is by far the mair amicable of us. She will make a strong alliance fer me, and a fine wife fer her husband.”

  “Should we ever find her one,” Bhaic mumbled beneath his breath.

  Ach, so I am naw the only one among us feeling frustrated.

  Still, the man’s tone was too close to accusatory for Edan’s liking, and he was toeing the line of anger as it was.

  He glared at Bhaic out of the corner of his eye. “Watch yerself, man. Me patience is running thin as it is.”

  “Apologies, me Laird,” Bhaic said hurriedly. “It’s just…the Lairds we hae come upon thus far hae been…”

  “Unacceptable,” Edan finished for him. “Aye. I ken. None hae been suitable fer Cairstine. ”

  None hae been deserving of her.

  His men had made their opinions clear of each and every candidate for his sister’s hand they had thus far come upon. Cairstine was beloved among their clan, and as protective as Edan was of the lass, his men were just as, if not more so.

  He turned in his saddle so he could look back into their entourage and find her. His sister rode amongst a group of his men, laughing and chattering as though she were surrounded by her closest friends and not hardened warriors.

  The men, in turn, were all smiles and raucous mirth as they jostled for her attention, joking and teasing her until she blushed and giggled. Though Cairstine was exceedingly beautiful, with a small figure, waxen hair, and large blue eyes, Edan didn’t worry about any of his men overstepping their bounds.

  For most, Cairstine was like a younger sister to the clansmen. To the rest, she was forbidden to them. They feared their Laird’s wrath enough that they didn’t even think to attempt to compromise her.

  The thought of parting with her was painful. It had been just the two of them for so long. He wasn’t sure how he would manage without her telling him what to do all the time.

  The pain was necessary, however. Edan just had to be certain the man he selected was the right one, for Cairstine’s sake. His alliance was important, but her happiness was vital.

  One of the men called out for Bhaic.

  “Pardon, me Laird,” he said, tugging on his reins to swing his mount around. “I’ll return presently.”

  Edan nodded his head as his right-hand rode off to see to his duties. Alone ag
ain, Edan relaxed into his saddle, resting his wrist over the pommel and letting his reins hang loose in his hands.

  He let his mind wander and the noise of his caravan faded into the background. Taking a deep breath, he savored the fresh, crisp fall air. His frustration began to fade, and he considered Bhaic’s words with a clearer head.

  Edan had determined years ago that he’d never wed, and his reasons were as he’d told his right-hand. He cherished his independence too much to bind himself to another person. His parents had had a loving and lasting marriage, but he simply didn’t believe he was capable of such a commitment.