Chapter 1

Selkirk, Scottish Lowlands, August 1740
The Seat of Clan Mackie

“Ye are very bonny,” an older gentleman whispered into Ailsa MacAulay’s ear as they danced. She grimaced at the smell of his stale breath, but she was grateful for the compliment. It had been a blessed day thus far, and she wished that it could last forever.

It was a dream. She was finally engaged to the most handsome man in the world, and nothing could seem to quell her excitement.

Well, this lad’s breath might.

“Thank ye, sir. Ye are most kind,” she replied from her place in his arms as they danced.

“I ken that James Mackie is grateful tae have ye as his Lady. Ye shall do very well indeed.” His words were said with the kindness of an old man, but Ailsa could catch the measure of his speech. His eyes sparkled with flirtation. She wished that she could heave the contents of her meal onto the floor in reply, but instead, she smiled tightly in return.

“And I grateful that I shall be a part of this clan. My uncle is very proud that we are tae become allies.”

The old man opened his mouth to speak again, but someone tapped him on the shoulder. Ailsa grinned in relief at the sight of her uncle Rory. “May I, lass?”

“Of course, Uncle,” Ailsa said, almost too readily. The older man looked at Rory with a sort of narrowed gaze before he bumbled off, and her uncle stood before her, taking her into his embrace gently.

“So, are ye happy then, lass?” he asked.

“More than happy, Uncle.” Automatically, her eyes turned about the room in search of her betrothed. She found him by the feasting tables, a cup of ale in his hand. His smile was wide as he spoke to a group of English nobles, and his manner was excited.

“James will make a fine husband and a fine laird.”

“I ken it, Uncle. Ye have done well tae put us taegether.”

Her uncle cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable as he glanced Jame’s way. “I thought only of ye, lass, and I ken that ye have had eyes for him for a long time. Although, it helps our own clan tae unite. Yer father would have been proud. On both counts.”

Ailsa nodded her head, but she could barely hear her uncle. Since she’d fixed her eyes on James, she was in a dreamy state. James Mackie, laird of one of the most powerful lowland clans, was to be her husband. How had she become so lucky?

He and her uncle had done business together over the years, and from first glance, her heart had been stolen. James Mackie was thirty years old, only a handful of years older than herself at twenty-three. He was tall, brawny, with lovely brown hair that reminded her of honey and bright green eyes. His face was covered in a light beard, and everyone who knew him boasted of his skill with a blade.

He was feared but respected. At least her uncle had told her so, and she could believe it. She could understand how when anyone looked at him, they fell under his spell.

“Uncle, there are many Englishmen here,” she said suddenly, her eyes finally leaving James to wander further about the room. “Why so many on the feast of our engagement?”

Her uncle cleared his throat again and began to cough anew. “Och, we should get ye a bit of water, Uncle,” Ailsa said kindly, and she took his hand, pulling him away from the group of dancers to a wooden table.

“Whiskey will do me well enough, lass,” he said between wheezes, and she motioned to a servant who hastily filled a cup.

“Here,” she said, thrusting the glass into his hand.

He drank the dark liquid quickly, perhaps too quickly for whiskey, and Ailsa’s mouth pricked up at the corners.

A Scotsman has an appreciation for whiskey like nae other.

Once his glass was emptied, he sighed with contentment and placed the glass back down on the table, turning his gaze to the other members of the merry party. She followed his eyes. Unfortunately, the guests were mostly all James’ for she had no other family besides her uncle.

After her mother’s and father’s death some years ago, her uncle had taken charge of the MacAulay clan, and she had been an only child. He had lost his own wife and daughter to an illness many years before, and so they were together just the two of them. He had treated her just like a daughter and taken care of her as such. The guests ranged from warriors to villagers to a large number of English nobles. They were drinking wine, ale, and whiskey, feasting on chicken legs and venison. She could tell those that were wealthy, for their stomachs protruded slightly under their garments, and their lips were shiny with oil from all the meat they consumed.

Most of them had given their congratulations, and more than one gentleman was kind enough to ask her to dance. For that was what had happened all evening. James had been so consumed with his guests that after the announcement of the engagement at the beginning of the meal, he’d hardly had enough time to pay her any mind.

She was sad about it, but she knew he was an important man. Although, it was rather strange just how many Englishmen he had invited.

Her uncle finally said, “Ye ken how much the lad does. He needs tae play both sides, for as a lowland clan, he is close tae the border with England. Edinburgh is only about fifty miles away, lass, and so ye ken how many Englishmen pass through these parts. We donnae have tae see them as much, tucked away in the Highlands.”

Ailsa nodded with a smile. “I understand, Uncle.”

“Good,” he said, passing her a fresh cup of wine from one of the tables. “I am glad.” Ailsa was used to listening to her uncle. She had been young but equally heartbroken at the loss of both her parents in a carriage accident ten years before. Without her parents, she felt like a boat without a rudder, and so she’d completely given herself to her uncle’s power and advice. She hadn’t wanted to think about anything for a long, long time. It hurt too much.

Her uncle had gotten used to that relationship, and so it had continued. He kept her best interests at heart, and so she wasn’t surprised that he’d chosen her betrothed, knowing she found James Mackie undeniably handsome.

Uncle Rory patted her hand. “My dear, I must go and speak tae a few men about some business matters. Ye understand, lass.”

“Of course, although I am a little sad that ye wish tae conduct business during my engagement feast.”

He chuckled throatily. “I ken it, but ye ken that it takes a long, long time tae travel down from our castle up north. I must take my opportunities where I can find them. Who kens how long it will be until we can return up north once more?”

Ailsa shook her head, laughing a little. Her uncle winked and left her on her own, clutching her glass of wine like a good luck charm. She had been so used to living with just her uncle that even though she was happy, the sight of such a large party with all the music, heat, and merriment made her a little dizzy. She hadn’t been to very many gatherings as large as this one. She didn’t consider herself the most skilled at social conversations, but tonight had proved that she had learned enough from her mother’s lessons as a child to do justice by her.

She looked at James longingly, but he was still in conversation, this time with a new set of people. He glanced her way, and her heart did a little flip when he winked in her direction before returning to his conversation. Ailsa had the great urge to faint dead away, but she knew that she knew it was a little ridiculous.

What would James think if I fainted at simply one glance? He willnae have any faith in me as a strong wife if I did that.

She took a slow sip of her wine and thought about the wedding. It was to take place in a few days, and then there would be the wedding night. Even though she had no older female relatives to tell her what would occur, she still felt a thrill when thinking about being in James’ arms, smelling his scent, and being kissed by his lovely pair of soft-looking lips.

“It would be heavenly,” she sighed in dreamy delight but colored when she realized she said it aloud. Over her wine glass, she suddenly spied the old man from earlier heading her way again. No doubt he would be looking for a second dance or chance at his misguided flirtations.

Anxiously, she looked about the room for the best exit, and clutching her skirt, left her wine behind, and hurried out of one of the side doors to the main hall. It led down a small passageway, with torches guiding her way until she made her way out the back of the castle and into the starry night. Soft grass sounded from underfoot as she made her way around the side of the castle, loving the feel of the cool night air on her skin.

She leaned up against the stone, feeling the cold, roughness under her palms. “Thank God,” she breathed as she looked up at the mass of stars winding and twisting their way across the periwinkle night sky. Torches lined the outside wall, but they hardly hampered her glorious view of the heavens.

“And what are you thanking our creator for?”

Ailsa turned with a start to see a young man exiting the castle the same way she did. At first, she thought he was a guard sent by James to ask her to return. There had been so many speckled throughout the castle, especially at the entrance. But luckily here, there were none that she could see, and she was grateful for the silence.

“Och, naethin’,” she replied, glad that the dim torchlight wouldn’t reveal her blushes. “Have ye left the throng of people as well?”

“Ay-Yes,” the man said. “Far too stuffy for us in there, you know. I needed fresh air.”

Ailsa frowned as she looked at him. These men were certainly dressed as English nobles in their fine clothes, but their accents seemed forced somehow. As if the words were like rocks in their mouths. By their ruddy faces and hair, they appeared Scottish to her, but what did she know? Scotland was the only country she’d ever been to. She was a little nervous. She had never spoken to an Englishman before, and this one was strangely friendly.

She took a breath and tried to remind herself that she was soon to be Lady Mackie. She would have to get used to speaking to all kinds of people as Lady of the castle. She tried her best to smile. “I understand. I was feeling a little woozy myself.”

“Are you the laird’s betrothed?”

“Aye,” she said, nodding and feeling her heart swell with pride as she smiled. “I am.”

She cocked her head to the side as she looked at the man. He was vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him. It would be impossible as she knew no Englishmen personally. He was very handsome, with his auburn hair and deep brown eyes. James was obviously handsome with a bright smile, strong shoulders, and well-trimmed hair, but this man was attractive in a more understated and rugged way. His hair was slightly unkempt, and his chin was dark with facial hair. He was taller than James, and his shoulders were wider. He wasn’t dressed as a soldier, but she could imagine that he was, for his size betrayed his strength.

The intent look of his gaze made her feel strangely warm inside as if she’d consumed too much wine. Perhaps she had and hadn’t realized it. She shook her head to be rid of the strange, dream-like feeling.

I am tae be married, for God’s sake. I cannae think of other men in such a way, she chastised inwardly.

“Well, I congratulate you,” the handsome man said, in his forced accent. “Here, take a cup of wine with me.” He handed an empty glass to her.

“Och, ye donnae need tae do that. I can get me wine inside.”

“And return to that room as hot as hell?” He shook his head, a twinkle in his eye. “You are welcome to share with me, and I shall toast my congratulations.” He grinned, and Ailsa felt that warm tingle in her stomach again. “Besides, I could tell that ye wanted tae escape that old man. He seems tae have fondled his way through the feast.”

Ailsa laughed, feeling more relaxed, and reached out for the glass. The man was right. She wasn’t ready to return to the room yet, especially not when James was so busy, and she was being hunted by the amorous man with foul breath. Returning didn’t tempt her in the slightest. He poured part of his wine into her glass.

The man raised his glass. “To your betrothal,” he said with a smile. He had the type of smile that made one want to smile as well. Despite all her nerves, Ailsa smiled back at him genuinely. She lifted her wine.

“Thank ye, sir. Ye are most kind.” She took a long sip, savoring the sweet liquid as it sent warm tingles down her throat and into her belly. It was a sweet wine, one she hadn’t tried before. “Ye are most kind tae share. I donnae think I will be ready tae return tae that room any time soon.”

She smiled, and the gentleman smiled at her joke. She leaned back against the wall and looked up at the stars again. “Are they nae fine?” she asked him.

“Yes, indeed. Finer than what we see in busy London, for certain.” She blinked and noticed that the stars began to swim before her eyes. She blinked again, and they kept doing so, gliding in long streams in the sky.

She touched her head. “Och, I must have had too much this evenin’,” she said in a garbled tone, her own voice strange to her ears. Then, without another word, she fell forward into the man’s arms.

Chapter 2

Two hours earlier…

“Ye are going tae get us both killed, ye ken?” said Kieth Donahue, right-hand man to Laird of MacLean Clan. He and Niel, the laird, were nestled behind a low castle wall, watching as the guests for the gathering entered the castle.

“Nae if we do this right,” Niel said gruffly, putting a finger to his lips after he spoke to warn his friend to keep quiet. He turned back to the entrance. Kieth was right. There were too many guards. They seemed to be part of the castle walls, and they were stationed around the entrance and high up on the battlements. He and Kieth were well-hidden behind a wall, in the midst of brush, but still. They could be seen. He watched as the various guests, most of them English nobles, stood at the doorway, handing the guard a slip of paper.

He cursed under his breath, and Kieth turned to him. “What is it?”

“They need invitations, it seems.”

“Which we donnae have,” Kieth said stupidly.

Niel wanted to punch his friend hard in the arm, but that would have to wait. “Aye, so we donnae. We will have tae find another way tae get inside.”

“Are our lives worth all this, lad? Just tae speak tae Rory MacAulay about his niece?”

“Aye,” Niel said sharply, too sharply, for he thought he could hear guard movement on the far battlements. He lowered his voice and attempted to crouch even further below the wall and the brush. “I have told ye a thousand times. We need tae stop this marriage from happenin’. Every Highland clan kens that Mackie is a traitor tae his countrymen. He will stop at naethin’ tae gain power and wealth, but as a result, the English will find their way in and burn us all out of our land. Trouble has been brewin’ for a long time now. Ye ken it.”

“Aye, aye,” Kieth said, nodding along. “Ye have told me. But I didnae realize that it would be so dangerous.” His blue eyes looked out at a large number of guards. “The man fears somethin’. It is almost as if he kens that we were comin’. Or else he wouldnae have put up so many guards. It is nae normal.”

“Nae,” Niel said, chewing on the side of his mouth in thought. “But that’s why we brought our own men. He turned back towards the darkness where he could see the dark huddled shapes of his men, lining up against the trees in the thick forest just outside of Mackie Castle. They will wait for me signal if anythin’ goes wrong, but I think….”

His deep brown eyes saw a pair of English nobles looking already a bit drunk as they stumbled up the path toward the castle. Most of the guests had already gone in, and so it was just these sole wanderers coming towards them, moving in and out of shadows as they attempted to get their balance under control. And as if fate was handing him an opportunity, they moved into the shadows to relieve themselves. Niel looked at Kieth, and the two of them nodded at each other before rushing out and stealthily grabbing the two men and pulling them down hard behind the wall.

A few minutes later, Kieth and Niel were strutting up the path toward the castle, dressed in the clothes from the two drunken men. Kieth was practically swimming in his clothes, for one of the men was enormously fat. Niel tried not to laugh too hard to see Kieth struggle in the loose breeches.

The two Englishmen were sleeping peacefully behind the wall and under the brush, a little barer than they had been. Niel had thought about knocking them both unconscious, but when he offered them a swig from his flask, they took to it heartily, gulping down a sweet draught mixed with a little sleeping powder. Niel always brought it with him whenever he had missions to accomplish, just in case.

It was a harmless tool, and he’d used it in the past often enough. Now it swung in his jacket pocket, banging lightly upon his hard chest as they made their way to the door and produced their ill-gotten invitations. The guard took them in hand and nodded, allowing them entry. Once inside, the heat of the room struck both of them heavily. It was a good heat, with pleasant smells such as cooked meat and fire, but it was a sharp contrast to having been waiting out in the cold for as long as they had.

“But I could use a bloody drink,” Kieth mumbled under his breath as they passed through. Niel grabbed some cups from a side table and thrust one into Kieth’s hand.

“Drink up, lad.”

Kieth brightened. “Food too,” he said, and Niel grinned as his eyes searched across the room for Rory. He had known the man for many years, especially when he would come for talks with his father, and now, he needed to convince him that he was making a huge mistake with James. He was going to send them all straight to Hell if he went through with his plan. Niel had tried to send letters to him over the past few months, but there was no word in response. Now, he had to take matters into his own hands.

But he didn’t spy Rory right away, and they kept along the edge of one of the walls before he spotted James talking privately to what looked like an English soldier. Grabbing Kieth by the arm, he yanked him into a side passage off the hall, but they could still hear the conversation. He turned to Kieth, who was stuffing his mouth with fresh bread.

“Where in the bloody blazes did ye get that?” he asked. “And when did ye get that?”

Kieth shrugged and tried to smile. Niel had to try not to laugh at his friend’s bulging cheeks, and instead, they hung back, waiting. He couldn’t afford for James to catch sight of them in case he recognized them wearing English clothing. He had met James a few times and was a hard man, as hard as iron and just as cruel.

“She is a beautiful one, Mackie. I see that you have done well for yourself,” a sharp, proper English accent spoke, presumably the soldier.

He could hear James’ throaty chuckle. “Aye, so I have.” There was a pause, and Niel could hear the man take a step and lower his voice. “She is a bonny one tae be sure. That is the reason I agreed tae marry her. Well, that and many others. But ye ken that ye will be allowed tae make use of me bonny wife whenever ye need her. Consider it repayment for all ye’ve done for my clan and me. When ye come by.”

The other man laughed, and Niel felt sick. He looked at Kieth, who had for once stopped chewing, his mouth partially open in surprise. The bastard would marry a lass and then share her with anyone who wished? It took everything in Niel not to rush out and run the man through with a sword in the middle of his betrothal feast. His mouth twitched up at the corners at the thought of James dying with a look of surprise on his face, foiled in his attempts tae become the greatest Scottish traitor in history.

The men moved away, and when Niel leaned forward out of the passageway, he saw James approaching Rory and another gentleman. The three of them wore smiles on their faces as they discussed something Niel was too far away to hear. Apparently, her uncle was only happy to sell off his niece to a snake-like Mackie. Niel pulled on Kieth’s arm. “Come, lad. There is a change of plans.”

“What? Why?”

“Donnae be daft. We have got tae take this lass out of here for more reasons than just tae save the Highlands. My conscience wouldnae be clear kenning that I left her with such a man. I can see now that our persuasions tae Rory would be hopeless. Look at Rory there, smiling up at his future nephew-in-law like this is the happiest day of his life.”

“So what do ye suggest?”

Niel lifted up his flask, and Kieth tried to stifle a gasp. “Ye are going tae drug the lass?”

“Aye, and take her away from here. Out of these men’s clutches.”

“And what do ye propose tae do with her once we take her away? We cannae keep her like some animal.”

Niel sighed. “I havenae thought it all through yet, but we havenae much time. Come, we need tae find her. Ye want tae keep her here and let her succumb tae the fate of being “shared” with her new husband’s men?”

Kieth sighed in frustration. “Fine.”

“Good. But ye are tae tell nae one about that. Nae the lass, nae the men. It stays between us.”

Kieth nodded, and as they slipped back discreetly into the busy hall, he said, “Ye sure ye remember what she looks like? It has been some years.”

Niel nodded. “I think I can. I—” he stopped when he saw her walking across the hall, looking almost frightened. Her skirts were in her hand, and he rushed out of a doorway. He caught only a glimpse of her lovely face, but he knew it was she as soon as he saw her. The same brown hair, the same quickness of her eyes, the same lovely curves. Ailsa.

He pulled Kieth along again. “Let’s go.”

“Ouch! Ye ken that ye will receive a blade tae yer back if ye keep pulling on me.”

“I will consider those treasonous words against yer laird, lad,” Niel replied, and Kieth fell silent. “Ye will keep watch on us from the entrance tae outside.”

Kieth nodded. They picked up an empty wine glass on the way out, and Niel added the contents of the flask to his glass. Now it was just a matter of getting her to drink it.

***

A few hours later

Dreams. So many dreams. They were not all bad dreams either, but they were strange, curling around her mind as she slept. Ailsa wanted to wake up, but she couldn’t yet. Everything felt dense and heavy, and her limbs were useless. In these dreams, she saw things she hadn’t seen in a long time. Her uncle’s younger face, laughing with her father. Her dear mother smiling down at her as she taught Ailsa to sew. Dancing with a handsome man at a clan dance two years before, remembering the intent, honest look in his deep brown eyes.

She shifted and heard the crunch of grass. Grass? Why would there be grass inside a castle hall? She moved again, and the sound filled her ears once more, as well as the smell. It was fresh and damp but not the scent of morning dew. Ailsa’s mind pulled upward like she was coming out of water, desperate to take a breath. Suddenly, her eyes twitched until they opened, and she realized that she was on her back, staring up at an almost full moon. She blinked in surprise for a moment, trying to gather her bearings.

Where am I? She was still fatigued, and her mind was foggy, and for a second, she couldn’t remember what she had been doing before. Everything was a blank, and it was terrifying. She took a few breaths, slow and soft, and tried to sit up. It was a struggle to sit up, for her limbs ached like she had been put under some sort of a spell.

The wine. Her mind suddenly sparked into life, whirring to fill in the spaces of what she’d forgotten. “I was drinking wine at my engagement feast.”

She finally succeeded at sitting up and sat a fire crackling nearby. “Aye, so ye were,” a voice said, and Ailsa screamed, pulling back when she spotted a familiar face. She narrowed her eyes, and her breathing sped up as everything fell into place.

“Ye!” she said, nearly spitting the words, backing herself up along the ground until she hit against a tree trunk. “What have ye done?” She glanced around, spotting a few men lingering a distance away. Their eyes were turned towards her. “Why have ye taken me? Where is James?”

The man moved closer and reached out, trying to shush her. “Nae!” she screamed, and with the help of the tree behind her, she was able to stand, and she turned away, wanting to get out, go anywhere, but with these men. He caught her by the wrist and held her tight. She screamed again and swung around.

“Lass, I am sorry, but this is for the best, I promise ye.”

The cheek of him! She reached out a hand and went to slap him across the face, but he reached up and grabbed her other wrist.

“I wouldnae do that, lass.”

“Why should ye presume tae ken what is the best for me? I donnae even ken ye!”

He still held onto her wrists. She could see his face in the fire, and now with greater light, she realized that she recognized him. He was no Englishman at all. That much was clear, especially now that he was using his real accent. However, she remembered him from a dance two years before. That was the man from the dreams.

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, lass. I will explain everything in time.”

She snorted and tried desperately to pull against him and even attempted a kick at his soft parts. He moved away expertly and called, “Kieth!” A young man responded, rushing forward with rope in his hands.

“We will have tae tie her, lad,” the handsome man said, and she struggled and fought, bit and clawed her best, but it was to no avail. The man was far too strong, and in a few moments, she was bound against the very tree which had helped her to stand.

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