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The Highlander's Defiant Captive: The Lairds Most Likely Book Four
Peace in the glens means war in the bedchamber!
Scotland. 1699. In a time of heroes, the greatest hero of all is Callum Mackinnon, Laird of Achnasheen. Brave, reckless, canny, and handsome enough to turn any lassie weak at the knees, Callum is a legend in the wild corner of the Highlands where he rules. Now the young laird is determined to choose a new path for his clan and end the violent feud with the Drummonds, a conflict that has painted the glens red with blood for centuries. This means taking Bonny Mhairi Drummond, the Rose of Bruard, as his wife. When negotiations with her pig-headed father break down, Callum seizes matters into his own hands and kidnaps the fairest maiden in Scotland, swearing to make her his own.
Bonny Mhairi is the adored only child of Clan Drummond’s doughty chieftain and she’s inherited all her father’s courage and stubbornness. Not to mention his undying hatred for anyone called Mackinnon. When the Mackinnon chieftain steals her away from her home and vows to woo her into accepting him as her husband, she swears that she’ll never consent to be his bride. But trapped inside her foe’s castle, Mhairi finds it hard to cling to old certainties. She detests her arrogant jailer, even as he sparks a fierce, forbidden hunger in her soul.
Loving the enemy…
As Callum and Mhairi wage their passionate war of hearts, danger, treachery and desire circle closer and closer. When her father’s army masses at the gates of Achnasheen, will Mhairi prove herself a Drummond now and forever? Or will new allegiances trump ancient hatred, as the desperate laird battles to win the lass he loves more than his life?
Chapter One
The Western Highlands, June, 1699
"Aye, she’s there, all right, just as Brian said she would be." Callum Mackinnon, Laird of Achnasheen, closed the pocket spyglass with a snap that expressed his satisfaction. His man inside the Drummond household had served him well.
"Shall we go down and snatch her?" his companion, One-Eyed Duff, whispered from where he crouched beside him.
"Aye, ye take the maid and leave the Drummond lassie to me. Once you’ve got the other girl, head for home. Dinna wait for me."
"Och, man, are ye up to the task? Ye might need some help with yon braw lassie."
The sly joke summoned a grunt of laughter from Callum. She was a mere slip of a thing, the redheaded girl who wandered through the sunny meadow below the bracken where they skulked. By God, she looked like a stiff Highland breeze could blow her away. He wasn’t expecting any trouble, apart perhaps from the odd scream. Not even that, with a bit of luck. At the first sight of the big, bad Mackinnon laird bearing down on her, she’d likely swoon away. All he’d need to do was toss her over his saddle and carry her away.
"Och, she’s a terrifying sight, laddie, but I reckon I can handle her."
"Keep your wits about ye, Mackinnon." This time, Duff’s voice held no amusement. "The lass might be wee, but she’s a Drummond for a’ that. They’re a gey sneaky breed. Even when they’re small and bonny."
Below them, his quarry crossed to kneel beside the burn running through the meadow. The maid had settled under a tree to watch her charge. The girls’ ponies were tethered under a tree at the far end of the field. He and Duff wouldn’t have a better opportunity.
"Let’s go," Callum said.
***
The drumming of horses barreling down the steep hillside made Mhairi raise her head. Two riders crashed through the bracken covering the brae. Even at this distance, she made out the red and black Mackinnon plaid.
Dear Lord above, what mischief was this? She scrambled to her feet, crying out to Flossie, her maid, and broke into a stumbling dash toward her horse.
"Flossie, run!" she shouted breathlessly, picking up her skirts as she flew across the green summer grass.
But a broken scream from under the trees behind her told her she wasted her warning to Flossie. Mhairi couldn’t help turning her head. What she saw made her stomach clench into a fist of terror.
The riders had split up. One already wrestled with Flossie, pulling the shrieking girl across the front of his saddle. Too late for Flossie, but not for her. Mhairi faced forward and ran on. Her speed increased until her breath sawed out in painful gasps. If she reached her mount, she might still get away.
A few yards short, a huge gray horse skidded in front of her to block her way. Even as she knew she’d never outrun a mounted man, she veered to the left. While she ran, she fumbled in her pocket.
She sobbed for breath, and there was a painful stitch in her side, but she kept running. The rider carrying Flossie had galloped away. Her maid’s screams faded over the distance. The beat of hooves pursuing her set up a horrid counterpoint to her frantic heartbeat.
When a strong hand slammed down to grab her shoulder, she responded as she’d been taught.
"A pox on ye!"
The man’s furious curse echoed in her ears. She kept running, slipping and stumbling on the thick grass as her strength failed. The gray horse passed her and drew to another juddering stop. She flung herself to the side as the man leaped to the ground and advanced.
Only then did she realize her mistake. He’d chased her the way a cowherd chased a runaway heifer, into a corner she couldn’t get out of. She been too frightened to see his strategy. Fool, fool, fool.