Highlander’s Trusted Traitor (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

  Highlander’s Trusted Traitor

  Alisa Adams

  Contents

  A Free Thank You Gift

  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

  Highlander’s Wounded Beast

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  A Free Thank You Gift

  Also by the author

  About the Author

  A Free Thank You Gift

  Thank you a lot for purchasing my book.

  As a thank you gift I wrote a full length novel for you called Rescuing The Highlander.

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  Click here to get you FREE book

  Or use this link directly in your browser.

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  alisaadams.com/free

  1

  Keith dodged a blow and whirled his sword around, trying to strike against Seamus’s leg. Seamus jumped back and narrowly avoided the blow. Keith, with all the vigor of youth, slashed his sword through the air so fast that it made whipping sounds. His gaze was deadly focused on his older opponent. Seamus twisted and moved his feet quickly. A grin appeared on his face, which was quite the contrast to the expression his younger foe wore. Sweat beaded on Keith’s forehead, and just at the moment when he thought he had the advantage, Seamus’s heavy sword came crashing down and deflected the blows.

  The sound of singing steel trilled through the air, and the witnesses gasped as Seamus took things to another level. His sword whirled and in one swift movement he had taken Keith’s legs out from under him. Panic flared in the young man’s eyes as his arms flailed and he landed flat on his back.

  The shadow of the Laird loomed over Keith. Some had said that Seamus had killed a bear once. Looking at him now, it was not difficult to imagine him wrestling a bear into submission. Keith blinked, embracing the aching pain that swept over his back, and then took Seamus’s hand.

  “Ye are improving all the time,” Seamus said. Keith dusted himself off.

  “It dinnae feel like it.”

  “Ah, this time ye almost got me.” Seamus pointed to his garment and showed a part that had been nipped by Keith’s sword. Keith beamed.

  “One day ye’ll be even better than me,” Seamus said.

  “How dae ye know?”

  “Because I dinnae hae me for a teacher!” Seamus slapped Keith on the back heartily and roared with laughter.

  “I hope I get a chance tae prove myself in battle just like ye did,” Keith said.

  “Ye time will come. It does for every man. Now, get along with ye chores else ye ma will be out here causing no end of chaos.”

  Keith nodded and handed the sword back to Seamus reluctantly. He was so grateful that Seamus was kind to him, and he would do anything for the Laird. He had stopped for a while there, as Keith’s house was on his way to the keep, and Keith felt so lucky that he was able to spend some time with Seamus once in a while and even practice in fight with him.

  “I wish I could practice all day.”

  “It’s always useful tae learn about the land. Ye hae many useful skills Keith, and ye should be proud.” Seamus tapped a finger against his chin. “You are a brave and clever lad. Come by the keep taemorrow, I‘ll try to find a task for ye.”

  There had been much turmoil in recent years, and as Keith strolled through the woodland he whistled and reflected on it. Keith was a young man who had just entered his prime. He had a shock of dark, thick hair and his beard was growing in. His eyes were sharp and were the color of the brightest sea. They twinkled as light from the sun caught them. His ma had always said that life and love danced in his eyes. But he didn’t just want life and love; he wanted war and glory, like his father before him, like Seamus and Angus, like all the other warriors in the clan.

  Keith bent down and plucked a plant from the ground, ripping its prickling stem up. He waved it before his nose and breathed in its sweet scent, placing it into a bag. The colorful flowers popped at him and swayed in the morning breeze.

  It was fascinating to him how some plants could be deadly and some could be sweet. Take berries, for example: if you ate a certain type of berry your stomach would turn itself inside and out. You’d be the victim of a terrible rotting feeling in your gut and everything would be emptied. Keith had unfortunately experienced that in his folly of youth, as a child, his stomach had rumbled and before his ma could stop him he’d thrust a fistful of dark berries into his mouth. He still remembered how the juice had run down his cheeks, as dark as blood.

  After hearing the stories about his cousins, Seamus and Angus, and the recent arrival of Bryan and Catherine, Keith was ready to see the world for himself. The adventures they went on were filled with excitement and danger, and the village had been filled with stories. Even now, months after the events, everyone still talked about them. These men were seen as heroes.

  All his life he had been wandering the same path. Every day blurred into one another as if they were all the same. He would rise, do some chores for his ma, and then walk the trail in the woods, collecting supplies for her. After some lunch he would spend the afternoon with his friends sparring, preparing for the day when he would join the ranks of the warriors and find some glory for himself. That day was yet to come. He’d pleaded with his parents to fight alongside the Highland warriors, but they had deemed him too young. He’d pouted as he’d watched the soldiers line up against the English from afar. He’d quailed as he heard about the battle with the bandits, and he was deeply envious of all of those who had returned with a story to tell. While he enjoyed listening to them, he wanted one of his own.

  As his mind wandered, a lazy smile curled on his face. He pretended to be in battle, ducking and dodging, then striking with his sword, killing the evil threat to his fair maiden. Not that there was a fair maiden in his life. He was as much devoid of that as he was experienced at war.

  Keith became so lost in his fantasy that he almost picked out a horrible, ugly looking plant that was covered in spikes. He gulped as he caught himself. His mother called it Midnight Tears because it killed people in their sleep, numbing their tongues so they could not scream for help. They could only die in silence. Sometimes blood came out of their nose or eyes, looking like blood tears running down their cheeks.

  “I’m back Ma!” he cried when he entered their small home. His mother, Isolde, was hunched over a table, her shawl pulled over her head. Her black hair that was streaked with grey was pulled back by some twine into a ponytail. She snapped her fingers and gestured for him to bring the things he had gathered. She was sitting at a table, crunching things together. Keith turned up his nose at the acrid smell in the air, and he shook his head when he saw her crushing a beetle. He set the basket beside her and she pulled her attention away from what she was doing to look at it.

  “Thank ye lad. It seems as though we are blessed by nature; she keeps on giving us what we need,” Isolde said.

  “Aye, she does at that. But dae ye hae tae be taking from her? Why dae ye need tae crush the beetle?”

  Her eyes gleamed. “Trust me lad, I know what I’m daeing.”

  “Ma, I need tae talk with ye,” he said.

  “Gae on,” she replied without looking up. Keith sighed and looked down at the knobbly bit of bread he was holding, tossing it back onto the tabl
e.

  “I feel as though I hae missed out on all the excitement. I was tae young for the old days, and the things that are happening here hae passed me by. If I hae just been a few years older, I would hae fought alongside my kin and I would hae stories of my own tae tell, instead of listening tae the ones others hae tae share. I want tae know what it’s like tae achieve something, tae be part of something bigger than me. I want tae test my skills and make people see me. I know that is what I need to do.”

  “Ye dinnae need any of that,” Isolde replied quickly. “It’s nae as good as ye may think. Not all people have to prove themselves by killing. You are special Keith. You are the smartest lad I know and I am not saying that because you are my son.”

  “That’s embarrassing,” Keith spoke quietly, his head dipping. Smart was good for women and older men that had proved themselves in battle already. A young man had to be brave!

  Isolde turned to face him with her bright blue eyes. There was no doubting they were mother and son for they had the same azure eyes.

  “Aye, those Highlander heros, there are plenty of them.” She gestured with her arm outside. “All the stories they tell after they come back. But what about the ones who dinnae? What about the ones who never came back? Ye could just as easily be one of them.”

  Her words were harsh and her voice had risen to a near shriek. A few moments of silence passed between them. Isolde softened and spoke more gently. “Keith, ye are my only son. I dinnae want tae see ye hurt.”

  Keith was not afraid of death. He was afraid of a meaningless life. “I just hae this feeling that I could be more than I am, but I dinnae ken how tae dae it.”

  Isolde looked upon him with pity and her heart swelled as only a mother’s heart could. She turned her whole body away from her work and placed her hands in her lap. “As much as I love ye, I dinnae think I am the best person tae talk tae about this. I cannae help ye find the path ye seek. But ye kin can. Gae up tae the keep and talk with your cousin Seamus.”

  Keith’s eyes brightened. “He actually spoke tae me already. He stopped by today! He said he might find a task for me.”

  Seamus was so attentive to his clan. Whenever he was at home he made sure they all knew that he was always willing to talk with them about any of their concerns.

  So that is why Keith became so anxious about his future one day, Isolde thought. He wanted to bring the subject to Seamus!

  “Aye, well there ye gae then! There is nae need tae fret. Seamus has always been good tae his kin. If he can help ye, he will.”

  Keith jumped up, not wanting to waste any more time. He clapped his hands together out of excitement.

  “And ye will nae stop me?” Keith asked, his voice trembling with worry.

  “Who am I tae disagree with the Laird?”

  “Thank ye Ma,” he said.

  “Ye are welcome my son,” she replied.

  2

  “Are you ready Rose?” Ruth said in a quiet, undemanding way. Rose scowled in her chambers as she was still trying to adjust the flowers in her hair so they looked perfect.

  “Almost, Mother,” she snapped. Sometimes her parents could be so impatient. There was still plenty of time to leave, and it’s not as though she was performing some great sin. She’d heard that it was fashionable to be slightly late, and she wanted to make Edward Drake anticipate her arrival anyway. He was going to be her future husband and it was important for her to show that she wouldn’t simply be a submissive pet to be ordered around. If she started off strongly then she would show him that she could be his equal in the bedroom, in the court, and in life.

  Her lofty ambitions had been fed at a young age by effusive praise from her parents. They never refused an opportunity to tell her how special she was, and their great hope to climb the social ladder had been to groom Rose for marriage to an honorable and prosperous man. After a few years of searching they had finally found a match, and all that remained was a meeting to sort out the fine details, and then Rose would have a husband of her very own. She smiled as she thought about the prospect. She was a rosy-cheeked girl who had just come into the full flush of womanhood. Her hair was long and lustrous, falling in tresses to her shoulders. Her figure had developed into pleasing curves and she had a smile that could melt the heart of any man. Her eyes were bright and inquisitive, and she noticed a tendency for people to underestimate her intelligence. Whether this was because of her youth or her beauty, or perhaps a combination of the two, she was not sure. She was determined to use it to her advantage though.

  Her parents had given her the best education a girl could get, in every suitable subject. She was able to converse and had informed opinions on a range of subjects, and sometimes her mother warned Rose that she spoke too much. A woman’s job, as she had been taught, was to be pretty and charming and support a husband. Rose wasn’t entirely sure she agreed with that completely, but she was certainly prepared to be as charming as she could be for the sake of her husband. As her husband’s prospects increased, so would her own.

  Sitting at her dressing table, she opened a drawer and looked at her glittering array of necklaces. She looked at them all and considered which one was going to be the best. She picked up a lavish, opulent opal necklace that shimmered and sparkled as daylight poured in through the window. It was inset with a number of jewels, but she put it back, preferring something more demure and slender. There was no need for her to wear a captive piece of jewelry like that on this occasion. This wasn’t a ball where she had to contend with others for the attention of a desirable suitor. She had to conjure an air of mystery, and the way to do that was to not be aggressive in what she wore.

  Her outfit was a long gown that spread apart at her feet, flowing out like water. It was pale blue with a pattern embroidered on it in white lace. Just as she was rising she heard footsteps coming up the stairs and the door burst open.

  “Rose, we must not be late!” her father, Steven, said. He was a tall man whose hair had deserted his scalp, leaving it shiny and bald. He made up for this with a thick beard he shaped into a point.

  “I am ready Father,” Rose said sweetly, curtseying to him. The flustered frustration vanished from Steven’s expression and he clasped his hands together, his liquid eyes gleaming as he gazed upon his daughter’s beauty.

  “You are the most precious jewel,” he said. “There is no doubt in my mind that Edward will fall in love with you at first sight.”

  “I do hope so Father, and I apologize for delaying our departure. I wanted to make sure I look my best for Edward.”

  “I understand,” Steven said, and ushered her out of the room. “But we must not keep them waiting. They are proud people and we cannot offend them.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to charm them as much as I can charm Edward. I don’t understand why we cannot host them here.”

  “They are very traditional people. They believe that any arrangement should be conducted at the home of a neutral party. Lord Douglas is a highly reputable man and we should be honored that he has agreed to play host.”

  “Didn’t he have all that horrible business a while ago with his brothers and sister and the Highlanders?” Rose asked.

  Her parents glanced at one another. “It’s best if you don’t mention that,” Steven replied. “It would be rather impolite. I think Lord Douglas would prefer to forget about that particular period of his life.”

  “What happened anyway? I’ve only ever heard some vague rumors about it,” Rose said.

  Ruth sighed. “It’s really not a matter for polite conversation. Some things are best left forgotten.”

  Steven indulged her though. “As far as I understand it Sarina was sent there to marry this Highland lord and then something happened to cause conflict between them. Harold’s brother Matthew died, killed by bandits I think, and then Thomas ended up dying too. Sarina stayed in the Highlands with her new husband. The last I heard she was with child.”

  Rose’s face twisted in derision and disgust
. “I can’t imagine why she would do something like that. What cause would she have to marry a Highlander? I can’t imagine the prospects are good, and I'm not going to mention the smell!” She giggled to herself and then shook her head demurely.

  “It must have been the grief that made her lose her mind. Losing her brothers like that, and I don’t think it was long before that when she lost her father. It must have been devastating to have her family be torn apart by death so quickly,” Ruth said.

  “Well, she should have been stronger,” Rose said haughtily. “We only get blessed with one life and I can’t imagine why anyone would spend it up in the Highlands.”

  Part of her wondered if Sarina had had any choice in the matter at all. Perhaps the Highlander had simply taken her away; threw her over his shoulder and claimed her as his wife. Her cheeks flushed and she felt ashamed as heat prickled in the middle of her body. She squirmed and shifted in position, knowing that she should not have such forbidden thoughts, but they were rampant through her mind and she shocked herself with her imagination. Sometimes she was plagued with thoughts like this, although she kept them to herself. She couldn’t imagine that other people thought the same way. It wasn’t ladylike at all. They were a private indulgence and didn’t have any basis in reality, but it was fun to think about nevertheless.

  3

  The previous night was a sleepless one for Keith. He was so excited that he could not close his eyes at all.