Captivating A Highland Warrior (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Read online

  Captivating a Highland Warrior

  A Historical Scottish Romance Novel

  Maddie MacKenna

  Edited by

  Robin Spencer

  Contents

  A Gift from the Highlands

  Scottish Brogue Glossary

  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

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Preview: A Pledge of Passion to the Highlander

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Also by Maddie MacKenna

  About the Author

  A Gift from the Highlands

  Thank you very much for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me, because this is the best way to show me your love and support!

  As a way to show you my gratitude, I have written a full length novel for you, called Highlander’s Untamed Bride. It’s only available to people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get your free copy by tapping the image below or this link here.

  Once again, I can’t thank you enough for your support!

  Maddie MacKenna

  Scottish Brogue Glossary

  Here is a very useful glossary my good friend and fellow author Lydia Kendall sent to me, that will help you better understand the Scottish Brogue used:

  aboot - about

  ach - oh

  afore - before

  an' - and

  anythin - anything

  a'side - beside

  askin' - asking

  a'tween - between

  auld - old

  aye - yes

  bampot - a jerk

  bare bannock- a type of biscuit

  bearin' - bearing

  beddin' - bedding or sleeping with

  bellend - a vulgar slang word

  blethering - blabbing

  blootered - drunk

  bonnie - beautiful or pretty

  bonniest - prettiest

  cannae - cannot

  chargin' - charging

  cheesin' - happy

  clocked - noticed

  c'mon- come on

  couldn'ae - couldn't

  coupla - couple of

  crivens - hell

  cuddie - idiot

  dae - do

  dinin' - dining

  dinnae - didn't or don't

  disnae - doesn't

  dobber - idiot

  doesn'ae - doesn't

  dolton - idiot

  doon - down

  dram - a measure of whiskey

  efter - after

  eh' - right

  'ere - here

  fer - for

  frein - friend

  fey - from

  gae - get or give

  git - a contemptible person

  gonnae - going to

  greetin' - dying

  hae - have

  hald - hold

  haven'ae - haven't

  heed - head

  heedstart - head start

  hid - had

  hoovered - gobbled

  intoxicated - drunk

  kip - rest

  lass - young girl

  leavin - leaving

  legless - drunk

  me - my

  nae - not

  no' - not

  noo - now

  nothin' - nothing,

  oan - on

  o' - of

  Och - an Olympian spirit who rules the sun

  oot- out

  packin- packing

  pished - drunk

  scooby - clue

  scran - food

  shite - shit

  sittin' - sitting

  so's - so as

  somethin' - something

  soonds ' sounds

  stonking - stinking

  tae - to

  teasin' - teasing

  thrawn - perverse, ill-tempered

  tryin' - trying

  wallops - idiot

  wee -small

  wheest - talking

  whit's - what's

  wi'- with

  wid - would

  wisnae - was not

  withoot - without

  wouldnae - wouldn't

  ya - you

  ye - you

  yea - yes

  ye'll - you'll

  yer - your

  yerself - yourself

  ye're - you're

  ye've - you've

  About the Book

  A horrible secret became the shield of their love...

  Lady Marion Bewforest has been living a lie.

  When on her twenty-first birthday her parents confess that she was found in a barn as a babe, she vows to uncover the truth behind her identity. Even if it means embarking on a dangerous journey to the Highlands with no return.

  Trapped in a betrothal he never wanted, Fionnghall MacIosaig, Laird of Gille Chriost, longs to be free. When an English lady of unknown descent appears on his doorstep, he is forced to face his greatest foe yet: his own self-control.

  Desperately in love with a man she can't have and with no solid leads to aid her in her quest for answers, Marion is left with one choice: to flee.

  With more enemies than friends, Marion and Fionnghall's future hangs by the threads of the blanket her parents found her in all those years ago. Until a life-threatening accident opens their eyes to a clue right under their nose: a pair of woven initials and a secret ancestry...

  1

  Revelations

  Ackworth, England, 1522

  “I’m what?!” Lady Marion Bewforest gasped, unable to believe her own ears.

  “Ahem… Marion, dear, you are adopted, we’re not your real parents,” said the Earl of Ackworth, who was sitting at the breakfast table together with Marion and the Countess of Ackworth.

  “But sweetheart, it does not mean that we love you any less! You are as loved as if you were our own flesh and blood,” said the Countess, trying to hold in sobs that were rising from her throat.

  Marion couldn’t breathe. Her whole life, all 21 years to the day, had been a lie. She wasn’t what she thought she was. She wasn’t who she thought she was. Her head was spinning.

  “Who are my parents, then? And if you love me as your own flesh and blood, why have you been lying to me my whole life?” Marion said, after being finally able to inhale again.

  “We were only trying to protect you, dear. Your mother and I wanted to wait until your 21st birthday to tell you. Until you were old enough to understand,” the Earl said, resuming his breakfast.

  “When you were but a few months old, our stable boy, William, found you in our barn wrapped in a blue tartan which was clearly Scottish fabric. That’s all we know, honey,” the Countess said with a little sob let out of her lips when she reached out her hand to touch Marion’s. Marion pulled her hand away.<
br />
  “So, instead of being honest with me from the beginning, you chose to lie? How can you teach me about honesty, about sincerity and kindness, when you have knowingly told a lie?” Marion said slowly, as if she were picking each and every word carefully.

  “Dear daughter—” started the Earl, but Marion interrupted.

  “Clearly, I am not your daughter!” Marion said, her head spinning. “I want to go find them. I want to know why my parents abandoned me! And more than anything, since my entire life is based on nothing, I need to get some real answers.”

  The Earl gave her a sympathetic look over his morning porridge and scratched his head. The Countess had covered her face with her hands that were glimmering with rings.

  “Marion, darling, you know I would do anything for you. But I cannot abandon my seat to start a journey that is doomed to fail. There is no way of knowing where to start looking for them, or if they are even alive,” he finally said, apologetically.

  “Mother? You will come with me, won’t you? I deserve to know the truth!”

  “Sweetheart, I so very much wish that were possible. You know my health… A long journey would be the end of me,” she said hysterically, trying to keep the sobs down.

  “Very well. I will go by myself. William will come with me, I’m sure of it,” Marion said.

  “No, daughter. I simply must deny it. You are not allowed to go and that’s the end of it,” the Earl said, this time with a stern voice that he used when he gave orders to his men.

  * * *

  Marion rose up from her seat. Without a word, she turned around and headed up to her room, leaving her parents to glance at each other with worried looks.

  There was a ball in the manor in honor of her birthday in the evening, and she wanted to think before she had to head to the ballroom and be kind and full of smiles. If she wasn’t Lady Marion Bewforest, then who was she?

  And from Scotland, no less! I’ve heard the stories from Scotland. Can I really be one of them?

  She hurried through the dim corridors.

  She reached her room and threw herself on the bed. She buried her head into one of her silk pillows and let hot tears pour out of her eyes. She was sobbing from the bottom of her heart, while her entire life flashed in front of her eyes. All the birthdays, all the promises, all the loving words—all a big fat lie!

  If they could lie about something like this, what else are they hiding? And why would my parents abandon me? Why would they do that?

  Marion was muffling her cries into a pillow so Rose Keenan, her old governess, wouldn’t hear. Miss Keenan was like family, which is why she had stayed at the manor even years after Marion didn’t need a governess anymore.

  But Marion still preferred her not hearing her sobs. She would have asked too many questions.

  The sobs started to quiet down as the hot flush of anger became just plain old irritation. She wiped her face and thought about the ball. There was a brand new red gown with delicate slippers in her wardrobe, waiting for her to put them on and dazzle each and every person who looked at her. Marion’s warm complexion and dark brown, long hair matched perfectly with the tones of the gown.

  Her best friend, Edith Hall, would be arriving today. Marion looked forward to meeting her, as she would surely know what to do. She’d comfort her with understanding words and make everything better.

  Edith was the exact opposite of Marion in many ways. Marion may know how to hold an interesting conversation, how to bat her eyelashes to make men notice her, and how to keep her Ladylike grace wherever she went. But for Marion, it was all a learnt behavior. For Edith, on the other hand, it was in her nature.

  She was the sweetest young girl in England and her blonde curls and blue eyes attracted everyone. Men gravitated towards her and her shyness, and women loved her because she never said a bad word about anyone.

  A sharp knock on the door interrupted Marion’s thoughts. She quickly sat up and composed her face to cover any traces of sadness and anger.

  “Come in, Rose,” Marion said.

  “Lady Marion, time to get ready for your ball! We must make sure you look absolutely dashing, of course, you always do. The Earl of Brookville is coming. I bet you will be happy to see him, won’t you?” Miss Keenan went on while she fetched a bowl of water and a hair brush.

  The Earl of Brookville was certainly a handsome man. He was young and wealthy, qualities to which Marion was not opposed. He had been wanting to court Marion for a long time and to Marion’s happy surprise, her father had given him Marion’s hand.

  “Why, of course I will,” Marion said. “Do make me the prettiest girl in the room, Rose, will you?” She spoke with a gentle smile and let Miss Keenan go on about the ball.

  I’d best push this out of my head until I’m alone.

  Marion egged Miss Keenan on by asking her questions to keep her talking.

  In a few hours’ time, Marion was ready and she was admiring her own image in the mirror. Her long, dark brown hair was combed and flowed like a waterfall over her shoulders. The dark eyebrows seemed to bend over her deep brown eyes like a bird’s wings. The red gown looked stunning on her, and she couldn’t help but feel a little bit better about herself.

  Marion waved Miss Keenan out the door and soon followed behind her. She was headed to the ballroom, where most of the guests would already be. The excitement of the ball cheered her up a notch—she couldn’t resist a nice ball with happy people and great food.

  The ballroom was on the first floor, so she descended down the cold stony spiral staircase, holding up the gown to keep herself from tripping. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard wonderful music coming from at the end of the corridor. People were chattering and laughing.

  She hurried towards the happy voices and entered the ballroom. As soon as she did, everyone turned to look at her. She felt her heart leap—she loved the attention.

  “Happy Birthday, Lady Marion!” everyone yelled in unison.

  “Thank you everyone, thank you very much for coming to celebrate my 21st birthday with me. Please, enjoy the music, dance, and of course, don’t leave here hungry!” Marion said and everyone applauded.

  The ballroom looked exceptionally beautiful this evening. It was filled with hundreds of candles and wild flowers. Dozens and dozens of different colored ribbons were hanging from the walls and the ceiling.

  Suddenly, she felt a tight squeeze around her, as a set of tiny white hands grabbed her waist.

  “Happy Birthday!” Edith wished and kissed Marion’s cheek.

  “Edith! I’m so glad to see you! I trust you are doing well?”

  “Very much so, darling, I have met the most interesting man here tonight, for which I should probably thank you,” she said and pinched her arm playfully. “Mr. Alby said you have spoken kind words about me!”

  Marion laughed and immersed herself into a conversation with her best friend. The uplifting feeling in the room made her push her worries aside and decide that she would think about them later.

  The eventful day had almost made Marion forget one of the main reasons she was so excited for the ball. Almost, but not quite. The Earl of Brookville, Albert Byron, was due to visit with his uncle and aunt, who were very good friends of the Earl and Countess of Ackworth.

  Marion would never forget the day she had been introduced to the Earl of Brookville by her father. He was to be her betrothed and the union was very welcome to the Earl of Ackworth, as it would make Lady Marion a Countess. Marion, on the other hand, didn’t so much care for the titles.

  She had seen some of her friends married off to old Barons and Counts who were the most boring people she had ever met. Secretly, she had been afraid that her marriage was going to be the same, married to an awfully boring old man with a boring and uneventful life.

  Fortunately, the Earl of Brookville was neither old nor boring. When he had met Marion at a wedding that took place in York, Marion had immediately thanked the Lord for her parents’ good taste.
The Earl of Brookville was a tall, well-dressed man with strawberry-blond hair and childlike eyes full of sparkle. He was polite and formal, and during the short talks Marion had with him, she had discovered him to be well-read and educated.

  What more could I hope for?

  Marion searched for him with her gaze wandering among the ballroom full of people.

  She didn’t have to wait long for him to appear. He was making his way through the crowd and as he reached Marion, he bowed deeply, sending Marion’s heart to flutter like a butterfly.

  “Why, Lady Marion, you look most wonderful tonight! May I have this dance?” he asked, his arm held out. Marion took his hand and flashed an excited smile over her shoulder to Edith, who was standing beside her, talking to the new beau of her own.